it repeats and returns and i run in circles around it
i'm faster now my legs are stronger but i still get tired
always repeating and repetitive and returning to rewrite the same words
over and over and over and over
broken out of cycles
of blood/ of hurt/ of being hurt/ of allowing hurt/ of scrubbing toilets/ of closed lips/ of poison
blame my lack of creativity on my meds
saw one comment on a forum saying that happened to them, just running with it
i think i'm just out of practice and don't want to admit it doesn't come easily anymore
but it can if i want it to
still repeating, still repetitive, still running in circles
waiting for the day i can slow down again
don't have to run as fast
because i'm not being chased anymore
Jan 28, 2021
Jan 28, 2021 at 2:01 PM UTC
wrote about the way the ghosts that used to haunt me convinced me to carve into my legs and purge my stomach of everything rotten
years later, i read it again. and again.
in every word i see you.
i see you and what you did to me and how you treated me.
you tried to ruin my soul, dehumanize every bit of me,
and i tried my best to help you with it by cutting it into smaller and smaller pieces.
was i complicit in my own destruction?
i made my decisions.
you dug my grave but i chose to lay in it
i took the drugs you supplied me and i thought that it gave me love.
you let xanax do the talking when you told me you loved.
you didn't you didn't you didn't.
and honestly! i didn't either! i tried to but i didn't.
but i cared when you didn't.
i'm tired of thinking about you.
i'm tired of trying to figure this out.
i didn't deserve that.
i was complicit in my own destruction
you dug my grave but i chose to lay in it
until i didn’t
Jan 28, 2021
Jan 28, 2021 at 1:59 PM UTC
i will never forgive you for what you did to me.
you blossomed weeds of anger and self-loathing inside of my lungs.
the flowers grew and grew until they infected my heart and my throat and my hands.
from this hatred, i have forged rivers and gorges into my legs.
forcing ***** in hopes that the memories would purge with the bile.
i shaved my head and cut my hair and sliced my soul into smaller pieces.
your hands linger and the scars still shine bright where you burned me.
i spent years trying to find a way to expel the vines slowly choking me,
poisoning myself and praying that it would be a sufficient **** killer.
it never was.
Jan 28, 2021
Jan 28, 2021 at 1:49 PM UTC
i didn't stop bleeding for a long time.
i gave away my blood to the tub more times than i remember
countless trickles soaked into cotton ***** and band-aids and pant-legs
i watched my life swirl down the drain in the form of pale pink water
i gave these pieces of myself away
and now as some sort of punishment, or maybe blessing
i have to keep these silvery lines across my skin as a reminder
to never take my blood and my life for granted again.
Jan 28, 2021
Jan 28, 2021 at 1:46 PM UTC
did you know that when you took your hands and ripped me apart that it would lead others to follow the trail of blood and prey upon me as well.
these wounds you opened never healed and my flesh has been rotting for many years and it's too late to lob it off and bandage myself up.
this disease is living in my bones in my heart in my brain it the core of who i am and to extricate it would mean to extricate my own identity
you cannot **** it without killing my mind
i can't understand why the world looked at me and decided that i didn't deserve the happiness she so willingly gave everyone else.
she chose me to be one of the rotten people that exist solely to be hurt by those who are evil.
the rot and the evil are bound and stuck together. always always always we will find each other and the rot grow again and again and again.
it's what we were born to do.
Jan 28, 2021
Jan 28, 2021 at 1:37 PM UTC
rats and poisons and rot sat in my stomach for years/body distended and painful/until it became too painful to bear/choking on the vomit/holding tight in my mouth/lips shut/finally e xpl ode and i spill/onto the floor/
the consequences i dealt with/cleaned the mess/scrubbed the tile / tub / carpet clean/and i am clean/clean/clean/stand from the ground/shakey legs/i feel clean/
Nov 5, 2019
Nov 5, 2019 at 3:28 PM UTC
a glimpse of the brightness i once saw radiate from you
shined for me one last time
as you laid on my floor
and told me how much you loved
your nine year-old brother.
after you left that night, i dreamt of you.
i was walking alone
and saw you standing in a snow covered field.
the real you.
in your purest form
you manifested as your father.
covered in gashes
bones piercing through skin
oozing with blood and pus and venom
you opened your mouth as if to speak
but anything you might've had to say
was drowned out as the poison poured
onto the sneakers
your mother bought you for christmas.
Feb 25, 2017
Feb 25, 2017 at 1:45 AM UTC
it was time for you to leave.
you veered off into the woods, into the brambles.
i stayed on the rabbit trail
and saw the holes you left through the brush from afar.
Feb 25, 2017
Feb 25, 2017 at 1:32 AM UTC
you are the antagonist in my story.
i do not expect you to understand this.
i know that you will never be brave enough
to admit; you're your father's son.
1. the phoenix flapped her wings and we were reborn.
2. when you met me
you had a lifetime supply of love.
3. you bathed me, your hands so gentle.
you stroked my hair and told me that i was beautiful.
you promised to never hurt me.
4. overcompensation got the best of you
and you wasted all of your love within a week.
you burned up your ability to care,
to be seen as soft and safe
5. you told that you thought i was a source of happiness,
and let me watch as you pumped me dry.
6. you bathed me with cold water.
soap slowly dripped down my face,
into my eyes and filling my mouth.
remember when you promised?
Feb 23, 2017
Feb 23, 2017 at 2:48 PM UTC
your quilts are long gone and the mattress is new.
this one doesn't sag in the middle.
we sleep on opposite edges, not touching.
we draw poems on each others skin with our finger tips,
telling stories and myths with closed eyes and the lights off.
on top of the sheets; i'm in your arms.
we've gotten good at pretending after all this time.
our skin is slick from sweat,
you stained your sleeve with red wine,
i ate earlier when i got coffee with my mom.
these are the facts we have been forced to accept.
it's easier than fighting.
Sep 27, 2016
Sep 27, 2016 at 5:19 PM UTC