They say the grass isn’t greener on the other side
but it has been raining for 3 months straight and
it looks dew blessed to me

sometimes staring at you through windowpane hurts
like there is something in the way the glass glares
in this seemingly ever beating sun

one day you will leave me,
this I know already.
I am already preparing myself for the inevitable to happen.

Hurts my soul and sets my organs on a slow burning roast
acid washing my heart and
pinpricks in my jugular

I try to see you in the darkness
in the light
in the way your brow crunches when you think
in the scar on your dimple.

I tell myself you do not love me like I love you,
regardless of if that is true.

I have sharpened my teeth ready to rip and tear
like soldiers and their swords

I am listening to the sound of the rain on the roof
while you fold your clothes to sad song about madness and memories and it is quiet in the house with the same kind of finality of
a lock clicking of
a door slamming of
a finished book

like a knife slicing through a teen on a Chicago city street at 1 am
no streetlights
no police
no gunshots

just this skin
this blood on asphalt
on sidewalk
on boy
on knife

just blood on the roof of this house like a warning
something wicked resides here do not come near
something that says dangerdangerdangerdanger

Never look back.
Never look here again,
there is something about you that keeps me coming back for more
like you are selling crack ******* on the street corners and
I am an addict panhandling

I know you will leave me when I am hopelessly in love
I know I will not be able to breathe without you.

Without the weight of your body and breath on mine
you will leave me peeled and gutted, spineless.
Every dream crushed like a body thrown from the 40th floor.

You will leave me like tsunamis leave islands,
like hurricanes leave cities,
like tornadoes leave houses

utterly destroyed from the core out,
and you?

You will leave like a bird from a nest.


Weightless.

Don't you think I want to be able to
have a drink with him
without the panic setting in.

Don't you see that when I say
my ex was an abusive alcoholic,
I mean that I'm still recovering.

Don't you feel my panic rising
with every sip of liquor
that flows down past his lips.

Don't you realize that when you
downplay my worry
your words are a vicious slap.

Don't you think that I do want
to get over it, but that I just
can't help but remember.

Don't you see the impact
I still feel from the squeezing
of his fingers around my neck.

Don't you feel any sympathy,
or are they just words to you,
"abusive ex."

Don't you realize that to me,
that was years of expecting death
at the hands of the one I loved.

So please, just. Don't.

The first was a neighbor
I fell fast into friendship with
Until he betrayed my innocent trust.

The second was a cousin,
Someone admired and adored
Until he twisted my adoration
Into something I didn't recognize
Or ask for.

The third was an uncle,
A partner in crime
Kept close to my heart
Until he bent the rules
And my will.

My view of the world
Was shaped
Changed
Shattered
By these three men.

Men I knew. Cared for.
Looked up to in awe.
And they used that
Toddler fascination
To their sick advantage.

Until I learned that
Love is shown in funny ways.
A secret meeting
Shh, don't tell your parents
Threats only barely veiled
Or something bad might happen
To your little sister.
And bruises left as reminders
You asked for it.

They showed me the love I was worth.

I've been
saddled with a loneliness,
that only clarity controls.
With a subtly of insanity,
where a sane man takes his tolls.
Because someone like a jester,
with no royal, hateful, crown
has pinned me with a series of
unspeakable, lazy, downs.
If someone has ever viewed me,
they might laugh and smirk in my face,
because someone, like that jester,
has controlled me with their fate.
I didn't try to make a duty,
of the things I couldn't do,
when fear was binding me at my wrists,
and telling me that I wasn't there.
But the loneliness came crawling,
and it settled upon my back,
because for some reason that
horrible jester,
deems it funny to throw me
off my track.

I have lost sight of you,
Of myself, probably in the process.
I have traveled through caves,
Carved my way through valleys,
Carried myself through currents with
Hope that seeing your face will bring me back.
You didn’t bring me back.
When I reached for my hand you let me go.
“I gave that to you years ago. How could I again?”
I spit the word “love” and “attachment,”
Thinking they mean the same thing.
I spit the word “hate,” because
That's the synonym you use for my name.
What color are my eyes?
Do you remember- I forgot.
You let me drown; you gave her your hand.
“I have that connection with her, not you.
I gave you all I could, how could I again?”
Her eyes must be a better color than mine.
She tried to kick dust in my face;
She couldn’t reach me.
I was underneath the water,
Choking on words like “love.”
You didn’t say goodbye, but
I guess you left me there to die.
She grabbed your hand before anyone else could.
She wore the necklace that made you hers.
She won the poison this time.
I won’t mumble how you crumble,
She can figure it out on her own.
So, when you let go of her hand,
She can’t blame me, or utter my name.
Because she watched you bury me faster than
The storm that brought me in.

fangs dripping
poison—dripping with
death.
yellow eyes slither stalking,
so hypnotic in their convincing;
in pursuit, our every step
pressured into flight’s direction.

a nightmare’s seed
planted beneath pillow,
following into dream.
the serpent’s coil riding
headrest’s rooting *******—
even slumber thought safety
infected.

a viper of self-consciousness, the
familiar of societal impositions
fuelling reflection’s hostility;
its venom—an injection of insecurity.
fangs dripping poison—
fangs dripping with
dishonesty.

To the boy who almost bought me flowers... But the store was closed.
Or he forgot,
or he couldn't choose,
because he couldn't remember my favourite flowers,
or he didn't care.

To the boy who almost loved me well.
The boy who almost made me a wife.
The boy who almost loved my flaws, but just couldn't quite grip them.
The boy who I almost lost myself in.
The boy who almost took everything I had, everything I believed.

The boy who almost killed me.

The boy who almost won the lottery,
until he lost his beautiful winning ticket.

To the boy who hurt the girl who cared so much that she almost forgot
to love herself more.
The boy who didn't think she could wake up and realize
that she deserved more than being
"almost" happy.

Sincerely,
The girl who is almost healed,
almost clean,
almost okay,
completely done.

Those that lack compassion will never
utilize their second chances
and I am not saying this to be romantic
I am just letting you know what is true;

the only difference between

love &
        hate
                is

what you see inside of you.