Punctuation marks the hesitancy in this conversation and
I can't help but dwell on words resting unspoken between
commas, ellipses and apostrophes;the
Spaces between letters where sounds sleep, vibrations
strike empty chords and fall short of expression.

I can't
         Throw away
                      Unwanted thoughts,
             And
I can't
           Live with them
                                    Either.

I never knew what my braking self wanted, until nothing was left to break away.

You cut my heart deep.
I tried to repair it
But it's still broken
and bleeds at the seems.

They grab a leg
and shake...
and shake.
They grab a arm,
because I don't-
feel the harm.
They grab my hair,
my fingers,
my toes,
my eyes,
my ears,
my heart,
my nose.
One by one
each piece goes.
Before I can breathe
they've stolen my breath.
They pick apart all I have,
and I ask,"is this death?"
Death so empty,
yet I feel peace when alone.
All those years I cried for someone,
but I feel so shaken;
so happy on my own.
Let my sharing freeze over,
that someday it plop and rot,
to see their grand expressions,
will they still care or will they not?
I've given all I have,
I've said goodbye to all I love.
They've looted me entirely,
do they yet have enough?

I burnt the tip of my cigarette into my
Tumbler to **** two habits with one stone.
Though the **** coughed its last sigh and polluted a decently-priced
Rye, I don't trust that the addiction died.

Tipped my finger to the 'tender to fill a new glass,
Struck the flint to the tinder, a tobacco mask.
They poison slow, but the effects are fast.

You, like these habits, are in the past,
Waiting for me at the bottom of a flask, swearing always
"It'll be the last."

It was October
He was inside me
I was crying.