Poetry isn’t only pain
Poetry is a cup
you can fill it
with whatever you like

you've left me in sickness
and you've left me in health
you've left me in droughts
and you've left me in rain
you've left me while dying
and you've left me crying

You've left me again and again
and I've stuck by you in times
that you left and those when your
need was a hand to hold and cry
or when you wanted to rip that same skin
in your anxiety & pain

I saw what he did to you
I saw the blackmail
I saw the false pain he painted
I heard his fake screams
and your real ones
and so I wondered

I wondered why
you painted the same pain
with blood and heartbreak
and called me a monster all night
while asking me to help you
these were the same words he used

This was the same pain he gave you
in different ways
with different doses
for different incentives
yet still
the same pain

You'd come back
and I'd believe you to stay
I believed that you would stay
at least for the time you had promised
and its not my fault
if you had promised forever

You'd leave again
like everytime
but I knew you'd come back
like everytime
but this time you say is different
like everytime
and I'm left knowing nothing
like everytime

I had believed my first kiss (you)
would also always be my last
I fought for it to be
maybe I still might
but then how are you so comfortable
kissing lips that aren't mine

You hated your name
perhaps because he told you
that it meant "mine" (his)
But I made you love it
because I showed you its real meaning
The gift from God

Hence I wonder
what makes you hurt me
the way he hurt you
what makes you leave
around every corner
when what is needed is a fight

I am no saint no savior no medic
but I stuck through your nightmares
and I bared the pain you caused
only to sit you down
and stop you from killing
what I had in me for you

But you are My Killer
finding reasons to leave me
ways to hurt me
procedures to rip open
my chest and cut through my heart
that beat with your two syllable name

I still wonder why
and the one reason you offer
is just not strong enough
or good enough
to leave someone in the ways
you left me

I'm no saint
but I've never left you in pain
the way you've always left me

"I can see my door, my bed, my window, my chair, and my table.

"I can feel my spine against the wall, my feet against the floor, my jaw tightly shut, and my fingernails buried in my arms.

"I can hear the wind coming in from the open window, my heartbeat rapidly thumping, and that familiar voice in my head, shouting once again.

"I can smell the dampness of the ground outside as the breeze carries it to my room, and the sickly sweet odor from the soap used on my hands.

"I can ******* blood spilling from the bite in my lip; my last harsh reminder that
        I
        am      
        still
        alive.

You broke me so you
wouldn't have to suffocate.
You tore me apart so you
could remain in one piece.
You stole my compassion so
you could be kind.

You were nothing short of a monster,
nothing short of a being
who fed off of sorrow my
and depression.

You fed such incorrigible
desires with your actions,
and I didn't see it.

   I was far too engraved
  in the very transgressions of my
illusions; the offense
of your brilliantly covert mind.

So manipulative you were,
yet I was so willing to listen to
your words, to anything
around me that involved you,
but you were a
monster.

   Nothing less.

   Nothing more

You dug your claws into my flesh;
you pierced your teeth into the warm fabric,
lapping away at the life force I had.

You did what monsters did.
You broke me.
You stole what you could from me.
You made me weak.
You made me small.
You kept me around for your own
persuasions and manipulations.

I was your means to an end,
just as any monster's victim is.

You chose me.
   I let you in.
I kept you closest to me, revealing
that of my darkest secrets and
fears,
but you used that against me.

Such intimate details were wasted
on a monster, and they only fed
Into your rough agenda.

Fear, pain, and anguish
that's what you
craved, and that's what you
received from me.

A monster you are.
A monster you will always be.

Nothing less.

Nothing more.

To be totally honest I forgot this website existed, until for some reason I started cleaning out my old email, last checked circa 2015.

Along the way, I forgot about these words that used to fill my head. I grew up, apparently. I was so caught up in being everything, I forgot that I'm me. No amount of resumes or friends or post on Instagram determines who I am, only I do. I forgot that I steer my fate.

I completely forgot about the unruly delight of letting words dissipate from my mind into thin air, and trapping them in my laptop screen. There's some unequivocal satisfaction in being able to take a foggy thought, and make it clear by wrapping it in pretty adjective and metaphors. For some reason, my shoulders relax in a way that's different, even special.
I never did this for you, this was always for me.. I forgot that I do this for me.

I forgot what it was like to pick words like the petals of a flower, delicately, because being delicate creatures makes our feelings just as frail and vulnerable.
I forgot to pick words delicately.
I realize now that my words are like bubbles, floating with ease through the air eventually making their point with a subtle 'pop'. My words have been more like lumps of hail, uncontrollably destructive to everything in their way. I forgot what it was like to choke up on emotions that I didn't know I had, that only this simple thing can reveal.

Most importantly, I forgot who I was. This young girl, lost and confused and trying her best to know herself. To be honest I still don't know myself. Sometimes I get mad at myself for that but then I remember, that this, this simple thing, saved me from consuming myself for years. Maybe it still can.

I realize now, that my undying anger can be tamed. That no, I am not some evil beast cursed to live in angsty distress. I am human, I will always struggle to live with my imperfections. I no longer need to try and teeter between the balance of good and evil inside me, because I'm human. I teeter regardless.

I had forgotten the eternal weight of words, how they create and destroy the world around me. That words are everything when you feel like you have nothing. That words can save lives, can save my life. That there can never be enough no matter how hard I try. That's not my fault. I realize now that life is not determined by my words but rather that my words should seek to give life, to enhance.
I forgot that there's no need to hate myself for being human, that if this life needs anything it's more love. I forgot that it's okay to slow down, to speak softly and to question everything. I forgot this for so long, but I think I'm starting to remember.