The food had no flavor to it.
There must've been a spice somewhere
But all it did was sting her tongue.

There's noise, talking and television
And dog snores that she can't tune out
Even if it all blends together
Incoherently.

There's static in her brain,
On her palate,
In her ears.

And all the while she's screaming
While sitting silent in her chair.
Screaming in third person.
Screaming pretty words
Like a diary entry,
Saying, "O me, O my!
Look at these woes!"

Scorning those who build crosses to bear
When she's in the assembly line.
Hypocritical martyrdom.
Closet elitist.

Walking contradiction in every way.

I took off my blinders today.

I saw around myself
The life I neglected
In my tunnel vision,
The inauthenticity
Of my behavior.
I saw the box I so happily
Dwelled in and
Make-believed that I was
Doing something
Important.

I saw my hypocrisy in
Looking at others
And make-believing
I was made of
Something different.

Maybe I can be, now.

Your skin wasn't so soft
Not the softness you'd find
In great love stories

You didn't always have the
Words to say something
You fumbled with them
While I babbled

You snored -
Only a little, I promise

Yet in ways I found
Them so endearing
Perhaps it was just you
And I find myself
Tripping and tumbling
And scrapping ideas
Of not needing love
Or just not being aware

Because I'm just yearning
To brush against that arm again

Stories be ******

She's a hurricane,
A billowing chaos.
Streets away, you'll hear
The howls at her presence.
For miles you'll feel the air
Choke up.

Girl's dynamic in ways
Unique to this world.
Prominent in a way
I'll never be.

She's a tense muscle
That never relaxes;
A gun with a hairline trigger.
Longs for affection
And intimate hands
But shrinks away
In times of crisis.

For her, everything's a crisis.

Found her on the floor one night,
Lips blue,
Arm belted,
And the voice beyond the veil
Gargling in her throat.
She told me it was nothingness.

Certainly sounded like nothing good.

I've never known a darkness like hers,
Not really.
I don't think she's ever known my peace.

Not really.

Chisel silver into your tongue
And let words babble from it
Like a stream

Weave them into tendrils
And let them pull you gently
Into a dream

Silly girl, your loneliness
Knows no bounds in its
Hypocrisy

You snip the threads and
Let them drift away

And away

And away

Ghost of a memory
And that's all you aim to be