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Not enough to say it.
Not enough to feel it.
Not enough to numb it.
Not enough.
Period.
Calliope Feb 1
My skin remained untarnished for 81 days.
But last night, it became too much.
5 cuts on my wrist;

One for every year I let you abuse me
Calliope Jan 29
I wish I didn’t have to get better.
I wish I didn’t have anything to get better from.
I wish I could want it all to end.

But I don’t.
I love and I feel and I scream and I sob,
And deep down I want all of that.
But right now it hurts so bad.
The deep dark sad has enveloped me like gasoline,
And I’m going to ******* burn everything that dares to get too close.
Calliope Jan 20
In the midst of our passion,
I tried to make you show your hand.
You were losing your poker face,
I thought your inhibitions were gone.

But when I said “tell me what you want”
You replied “for you to be happy and healthy”.

And that shattered the dam.
The wall that held back the sea splintered.
And I let you see me drown in my pain.

I told you how letting you gorge on me
Made me the kind of sad I could control.
It was a shallow kind of sad, one that could be fixed with scotch tape.
I ripped the adhesive off  of the shallow sad
When the deep dark sad became too much.

I told you how letting you gorge on me
Made me feel useful, even if it validated everything he told me.
I don’t care that my body is nothing more than something to be ******,
At least I’m doing my friend a favor.

So even if I can’t be happy and healthy right now,
And even if you know that,
At least we can see each other for what we are
As I let you feed his desires for me,
And you let me feed my desire for pain.
Calliope Jan 20
I have been feeling too much
So I can’t feel anything at all.
I’ve been so full,
But the pain became invisible.
I know it is there, but I can’t see it.

Sometimes I have to remind myself
That the reason I’m feeling light headed
Is because I haven’t taken a breath in almost 2 minutes.
Why I haven’t been writing
Calliope Jan 7
The lilacs of our love are dying and getting crushed by the fists of circumstance.
The aroma is sickly sweet, just like your embrace.
The backbone is snapped, just like mine was absent.

But I still wish it would continue to bloom
Calliope Jan 7
What has happened here?
Why is everything broken?
Who have we become?
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