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.

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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.

nothIng

vibrant.

a primal need to blossom . life. so beautiful. eager. drowning in the presence of its loyal patrons. i craved interaction with their simultaneously occurring auroras. god the beauty in fostering one another’s creativity. im so in love that i cannot stop smiling. feeling the tremors, laughters, intimates of society gives me butterflies. i never want to go home.

realization.

but mistakes came easily to me. judgement comes easily to them. “odd.” a infinite circle of failing, refocusing and failing again. begging the world for peace. i ask god to remove their eyes from my wrist. i ask the universe to send me a single soul to understand me as i am. how can they when im not making sense? exhausted. begging for acceptance. cloaked in misery. kissed by hatred. every chain mail, and rail road track, and shooting star and lucky penny i beg the stars to make me less. make me like them. make me feel less. i will do anything to be less.

anything.

i sit delicately in front of the mirror with the wire in my lap. hours pass. i pull at the excess disgust swaddling my beloved brain. i quiet her screams. i cant explain the detachment we feel for each other. my mind drizzled with her remarkable intelligence; my soul plagued with immense hatred for my entirety. its time. pierce the skin. “if you cant control their actions, control your reaction” pull tight. “ugly females should say less.” drill through the jaw. “the world would be a better place if you werent in it.” i lace the wire between my jaw. promising myself the sheer pain is nothing compared to the greatness of being less. it takes me months to get it right. the lace is beautiful. before i know it, my voice leaves. the decadent cravings for socialization leave my body. there is no reason to leave my bedroom; i have nothing left to say.

empty.

hatred is such a passionate emotion. is that why so many people feel it for me? my mind shrivels without the nutrients she needs to survive. finally. their laughs echo around inside my empty skull. i carve their words into my bones; in case i ever try to forget. the knives in my back eventually pierce my soul. i encourage her to bleed out. i dont care if it ever gets better. my spirit decays. my emotions rot. finally i feel the ominous weight of

nothing.

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.

take these memories; give me back my moments 

do you think of me? 

do you think of me when you drive past a convertible as candy apple red as mine? how we used to drive around for hours; music blaring, clearing our minds, fingers intertwined. getting lost and pulling into abandon parking lots at 2am. do you see my seat covers and remember our arguments? over whether mcdonalds or burger kings fries are better. or whose turn it was to drive home. 

do you think of me? 

do you think of me when you hear my music? the songs i forced you to listen to? the songs you became familiar with as i became familiar with your body? do you stumble across an underground rapper and want to tell me about them? or miss me texting you lyrics at 7am? along with words of encouragement when you needed an extra push. do you ever look up to the stands and look for my smile? 

do you think of me? 

do you think of me when she whispers in your ear? or as she bites her lips and fulfills all my promises to you? can you still taste my lips and smell my perfume? i bet she does things that remind you of me, but i hope she doesnt  do them as well. when you lock yours with those chocolate eyes, do you ever see mine? my big brown eyes looking up at you, gleaming because youre mine. youd always be mine. or so we thought. 

do you think of me? 

do you think its me when you get a call at 3am? barely able to speak but clear enough to remind you how in love with you i am? do you ever get worried that i am lost again? or falling in parking lots on clear august nights? when you see a girl throwing back shots do you remember the times i tried to out drink you but ended up swaddled in your arms. does it bother you that you are no longer my midnight kiss? or the arms i run into? do you realize im no longer there? 

i think of you. 

i think of you when the lights turn down. i think of how calm your hands felt trying to steady mine. i think of your smell, even though i washed it away months ago. i think of you when he kisses my neck. and him. and him. i look for you in the drivers seat of every grey truck passing by. i think about our snapchats, our songs, our jokes, our words, our love. i think of you when people tell me im too much. i think of how many times you told me you didn’t hate me, that you never could.  i still think about texting you. i still think you were the best thing to ever happen to me. 

i think about trading all our memories for our moments back.