twIce

me

what a burden it is to breathe. sleeping is tiring. i watch in agony while my sanity climbs out the window. all night, my mind maintains conversations with herself. if only the emptiness found a home inside my head. my skin thickens. my blood pools along the flesh clinging to my bed. just move. just get up. i cant. my once primal need to control is shattered. lost amongst memories. anxiety feasts on my body. just let it consume me.

they

let me lay in the ashes of the bridges theyve burned. i envy their peace. as each day passes, wonder creeps up on me. what did i do wrong? whats wrong with me? why did i fail you? years of routines abandoned. without a single good bye. break the wall of silence if only to tell me how you recovered from my loss. tell me how worthless my presence in your life has ben. whisper in my ear the optimicéis of my friendship. burn me like the bridge between us. ill do anything for that peace of mind.

mine

my heart breaks into three. i buried a piece with each of you. the last of me is left to rot. the lonely chip of my soul aches to feel you. see you. have your presence acknowledged. when you were ripped from me the loneliness smothered me. i mourned you alone. begged god for peace alone. now i feel comfort in the void. im so sick of being bothered.

he

i-love-yous start to feel like routine smiles by polite strangers. i dont know whats wrong with me. my hope for us is fleeting. i wait for the next disappointment. booze seeps from your pores, resentment from mine. i tried so hard to understand. i no longer care to. when you come to me with your spiraling ideas twisted inside webs of anger and heart ache all that i have to offer is blank stares. why cant you just get better? i lay down in your bed of lies and attempt to justify your mistakes. i just want the discontent we feel for one another to end. there is no sustainability when i long to let go of the silence. i have never dreamt of falling out of love with you. instead i ache to crush the bones that hold this miserable body together. dare i reveal how often it crosses my mind that i hate myself for not hating the lies and manipulation and addiction and most importantly, you?

only a fool makes the same mistake twice.

only a fool makes the same mistake twice.

only a fool makes the same mistake t w i c e.

FEELiNGS

i like you.

appreciation. consumed by falsehoods. if the universe is real, she created me for you.

i fell right into your arms.

i encourage the world to melt around me. let this moment freeze in time. you drag me into your reality that i am no as bad as i seem. i reciprocate the pleasantry. the best of me radiates out of your skin. the warmth of your smile, like sunlight on my body. nourishing your seeds sewn into my soul.

i feel i could right you.

you spit poison into my mouth. i never considered not swallowing. i need to feel your clarity run through my veins. i rationalize each dose. if i can fix you, any pain is bearable. in my own deterioration, i ignore your pleas for anyone but me. how can i stop drowning in you? you carve my imperfections into my mind. you feel emptiness inside me. im too high to notice.

i feel cold in your arms.

my sanity rest with the sun. i have grown to despise the moon. in the darkness she reads aloud the story of us. as if the ending can be rewritten by the stars. betrayal. like clock work im surrounded by lies. each night, i desperately beg myself to fit into the shell youve created for me. each night, the plots plays out the same. messy. every cavity of my body that once danced in your adoration, now smothered by shame. humiliation buzzes around each time i open for you. my door. my body. my being. how cruel is the universe to bring me a lover who loves a feeling, instead of me.

i could die.

yours.

questIons

“after you hang up the phone, will you call 911?”

no.

the blood barrier of my mind is bricks of rational sealed together with sanity. but buried behind her madness exists. shackled. quietly. enticing me. an itch. thats driven by the reality that i cannot scratch it. this arrangement of normality no longer works for me. i need something more. the darkness creates elaborate schemes vivid enough to destroy the barrier that i once needed to survive. good. if you stop talking he will drive us into oncoming traffic.

“did you sleep well?”

no.

im so angry that i cannot stop shaking. its instinct. to destroy. the man who killed my sister is standing within arms length of me. the craving to make them hurt is unbearable. its hatred. i reach to grab them and i cant. paralyzed. like drowning inside an empty wave. no amount of clawing for the surface will bring it to you. the unescapable wave of hatred feasts on me. there is no relief from a nightmare when you carry that helplessness awake. please let me drowned.

“will you come back home?”

no.

i have no want to exist in this dimension. doesnt appeal to me. i dont care if you miss me anymore. when they released me from the hospital, my communication lacked missed calls. no one cared that my sanity lost. i am not willing to put forth more effort than the beloved. this life has nothing left for me. leave it.

“do you want to kiss me?”

no.

intimacy alleviates the pain. the addiction to touch erases the detrimental nightmares that im drowning in. for a moment my worth is plastered across the face of a stranger. validation. i dont feel so bad. the three minutes theyre dependent on my body i can leave it. the negative things they say about me when my clothes reappear are invalid. but only for a moment. theres comfort in any suggestion that i will no longer belong to me.

“are you okay?”

no.

this life appears like a dish of cake batter waiting for the oven to preheat. not finished. the tired cream colored mixture of aspirations and calculated decisions lies as a foundation. trustworthy. but along the way time has slopped in thick globs of rich dark chocolate. swirling the batter with madness. every series of misfortunate events adds more chocolate. more darkness. more deviation. stability relinquished in the void. just let me burn already.

jamestown

denial.

a seed. drenched in simplicity and cracked around the edges. swaddling my shell, you buried it into the uttermost of my core. i nurtured it. granted it permission to share the blood that my heart was pumping. allowed myself to be weak in the presence of something so pure. ignored its harmless burrows into my mind and the obscenities it carved into my skull. he needed to heal. engulfed by his simplicity, i grew softer, happier, more free. without warning, you ripped my seed from the humble home i had created for him. “i found it a new dwelling.” i feel insane without them.

anger.

i dont believe that a hatred more pure then that of a lover exist. because the knife in my back felt more at ease when i held it against your throat. and sublime when i held it against mine. my dreams of pulling your hair and the warmth of your breath replaced by sleepless nights of combing through every flaw that existed between us. i cannot decide who i hate more: you or myself? i desire the release of ripping out my soul and stomping on yours. ill do anything for it to end.

bargaining.

melancholy tapping. anxiety draining from my limbs. contemplating the extents of the sacrifice i’m willing to give to make this hatred for each other go away. removing my retinas seems like an even fate to reverse time. i do not think that i can exist without you. which set of lies is more believable? that you hate me or that you love me? for the latter, i promise to be quieter, kinder, less awake. for a split second i question if love is supposed to be this painful? darkness over comes me; this is not what they meant when they proclaimed love is blind.

depression.

i want to paint a picture of the misery festering inside me. but i dont believe there is a simile devastating enough to relate it to. i lied when i promised myself this separation was temporary. my phone still craves your call. i cannot bare to die for you any longer.

acceptance.

like the settlers, you colonized my heart for the first time. embellished in her resources. found a home. abandoned me for the unexplored territories in the horizon. it used to be bothersome to me that you replaced my adoration so hastily. now its refreshing. my heart healed someone else’s broken soul so efficiently, they were able to care for someone else. was what we had so special, if you could find it in anyone? there are still nights that i cannot help but ache for you. followed by mornings of realization that you decided to leave. it was never my burden to bare. i dont blame one another for our demise. i refuse to find fault or abandon my spirit like you did. she is so brilliant. my body was never a home for your love, your seed, your hatred. she was built to house my dreams of new beginnings. i apologize for the confusion.

BUSiE

buzzing. constantly. a stream of melancholy screams echo-o-oing inside my skull. like a patient mother to her pride and joy i hush each one, individually and by name. i reassure each memory will have their opportunity to be heard. felt. saturated. later. today i am busy.

its 5:34am. my seamless route to work tainted by the thoughts dripping from the corners of my eyes. gone. i needed the overwhelming calm that followed the serenity of opening my soul him. he took them both when he left. i cannot stop the stream of memories escaping from eyes; because they’re no longer mine to have. without warning my mind cycles through each interaction, combing out promises i refuse to recognize as broken. enough. today i am too busy.

3:56am. still i rise has less meaning when i continuously rise with a panic to disappear. my brain took her time with this one. sometimes i can still smell the thick black sharpie she used to strike through the images. breaths. heart beats. seconds. erased. i can still see the feeling. driving. disgust for my helplessness. my lungs inflating to the tune of screams: “i want to go home.” “i want my mommy.” “please stop hurting me.” quiet. i rock myself back to sleep. i am too busy tomorrow.

4:36pm. the middle of my sentence is halted by the self hatred radiating out of my nerves. not enough. not there enough. not nice enough. not skinny enough. not patient enough. not smart enough. not strong enough. the various voices of the souls i’ve let down seeping through each pore on my body. quiet now. not today. today i cannot be enough. this evening i am too busy.

12:34am. my room floods with the darkness of your absence. i can’t scratch the itch to save you; and its driving me mad. my soul attempts to find peace with-in the memories that haunt us. every time she fails. every time she is reminded that apart of your burden is mine to bare. you erase the trauma with toxic powders, while i’m forced to consume them plain. the weight of my memories accompanied by your mistakes is too much to bare. and tonight i am too busy.

6:95pm. exhaustion paints the face of the girl radiating out of my skin. unrecognizable. dark sacks of misfortunate events crowd under the skin surrounding her retinas. today we release them. today we have time. without hesitation i drive an axe though the crowning mold of my mind.

i just want to find what i’m looking for.

they say that no one knows exactly where memories are stored in the human brain. its humbling watching my nightmares buzz out of my cracked skull. i listen to each one. acknowledge each by name. ask the universe, god, the vision itself how i can make peace with its existence. all answer the same:

you can’t.

i cannot bare to be busy any more. respectfully, i decline the offer to return my soul to her shell.

it is too heavy.

and while my mind is plagued with the daunting reality of my troublesome encounters within this lifetime; she is wise enough to know my soul did not deserve any of this.

erosIon

-man.

like a god, no ending and no beginning existed with him. ominous; a separated beauty. when he comes to visit me i am less awake. allowing the collapse of my better judgement. politely, i step out of my body; its his problem to occupy now. in the darkness of night he glides his vices across lifeless limbs. the mutilation of this body is humbling. she deserves it. carefully he packs the shell with sand.

-the sand-

i beg him to stay. he smiles, refuses, closes the door kindly. like a dammed soul dragged to hell im forced to return to the corpse. the sand thickens like cement. walking is tiresome. exhaust swallows me. i try to call out for help, instead droplets of grain spew from my lips. words no longer have meaning. my soul is suffocating in, my brain is drowning in, my hope is evading in these weightless bits of erosion. my only solace is the thought of his return. loneliness evades me, his presence appears in every infamous down fall i find myself existing in.

-am-

im not sure where we are going anymore. he bathes me until the screams bellowing out of my core cease. swaddles me in forgiveness. makes me feel able. petrified of my reality without him, i follow him blindly into the darkness. his whispers are rich, comforting, wholesome. “jump.” its agonizing telling him no. my rationals screams are drowned out by his thoughts echoing inside me. my want to answer her calls is nothing compared to my need to please him. i give up.

I-

as i fall a lifetime of malpractices burrow through my skull. in each of them, i sit alone. its amazing how eroded the mind becomes when it goes mad.

burnIng

my body is not a temple.

its a prison.

a hallowed out sanctuary. no one worships here. hatred. jealousy. loneliness. despair. nestled between the bars. all the while hope remains wrongly shackled in a cell of her own. she dreams in black and white. swallowed by the layout of her brilliant escape. refusing to let go of the ideology that she is bigger than this institution. her stories of appeals and tunnels and maps grow fainter as the years pass. time after time, the guards beat her with failure. strip her dignity. laugh at her perseverance. broken. its been three days since her cell was vacated. i dont know what to do without her.

its a shelter.

occupied by the lonely, the dirty, the desperate. i welcome them inside; tormented by the obviousness in their eyes that they would rather be anywhere but here. misery dances along the halls stained by a lifetime of regret. i watch in silence as methamphetamine rots a brittle man from the inside out. i watch in silence as undernourishment devours the once pink faced infant. i watch in silence while a brown eyed beauty finds comfort in tearing at her own flesh. they crowd my soul. begging, pleading, needing for me to save them. i cant.

its a tomb.

surrounded by the souls of the brilliant. i watch in envy as loyal patrons decorate their graves with colors of love, gratefulness, appreciation. awaiting my judgement, i maliciously calculate the severity of a every mistake that i have ever made throughout the course of my time. picking apart a life time of interactions in an attempt to justify them. i cant. its been three years since i accepted that no one is coming for me. i never once questioned why. the silence of rotting alone is too much to bare. every night i wish that my body was a temple.

so that i could burn it to the fucking ground.

irratIonal

tar.
her burn is unimaginable. a sharp pain so gruesome that i wonder why i couldnt stop smiling. inviting. invigorating. intense. i feel at peace, knowing that i will die in her grasps. but again rationality acts like the jaws of life, freeing me from the crushing salvation of my own tomb. nevertheless, black tar sticks to my skin. wedged into delicate places and draped across the obvious canvas of my entirety. i cannot stand the feeling. i bathe in bleach. i bathe in vodka. i bathe in tears. i bathe in blood. but nothing can wash away the scars she left on my body.  i wish theyd stop staring at me.
creatures.
anxiety and hatred sit besides me while i wait for my name to be called. every time i lift the cigarette to my lips i bridge the gap between hypothetical and harmful. i think its better than a gun. but anxiety pulls a trigger of his own, leading my mind splattered into a frenzy of uncertainty. i ask him to leave. hatred follows me inside. closes the door behind us. exhausted. she tucks my hair behind my ears and holds my head still in front of the mirror. i watch as disgust drips from the corners of my eyes and runs down my cheeks, finally to puddle itself into a knot in my stomach. nothing can describe the sickness that overcomes me when i realize that i don’t want to be me anymore. i ask them to stay. im so tired of being alone. while the anesthesia rocks rationality to sleep, they whisper in my ears.
enough.
the fountains are running. water is pacing. splashing. racing. swirling around my head as i pick apart every interaction i had with him. i wonder what drove him from smothering my hands to smothering my soul. i wonder why i spend so much time alone. i wonder why i break myself to pick up the pieces of everyone elses broken heart, before i pick up my own. i wonder why everyone i trust to put me back together destroys me in the end. i wonder why i do this to myself. my rational aches. i toss my coin in after i  realize the simplicity of the situation. everything is my fault.
i envy the quarters opportunity to drowned in the fountain.

paradIse

i have often thought

of the person i would be 

if i didnt resonate such passionate hate 

for the person that i am. 

Sincerely- B,

**We had to write this type of poem for my english class, about and exhibit in a museum! I chose to write about the “Bee Tree.” Really my first attempt at using this kind of stanza structure. Hope yall like it. Love you, happy Wednesday**

Black. Like the earth smothered
by nighttime. A never ending
infinity of wide open sky. But the heavens cant
be reached without the air stealing my breath.

Yellow. Like the marriage between
the rich sunlight and my primal need
keeping the flowers alive. But, still, they would
be nothing with out the rain.

Queen. Cloaked in warmth and dignity.
The love between us as beautiful and
pure as the honey drizzling down my jar.
Here she left me,

Alone. This hive is crowded,
the constant hums altering the
natural rhythm of my own broken heart.
I don’t know who I am without her.

Flowers. I nursed my infatuation for
you. Allowed it to blossom, cradled in
tightly. Close to my heart as we melted into one.
Now the flowers are dead.

Buzzing. Monotone screams,
reminding me this is home.
Drowning in the cries of mirror images
of things I no longer want to be.

Open. This space is overwhelmed
by freedom. However the constraints of
the ghost of my infatuation keep
me coming home.

Fly. She is no longer my home. I just want
this humming to stop. Buzzing to stop.
Heartbreak to stop. This hive has nothing
more to offer me. I think that its time for me to fly.

Good-bye.