Have I become a vestige of memory?
Are words the only thing keeping me....

Alive?

I fear death; both literal and metaphorical.

These letters trickle from my veins-
Crimson rain
To let you know
I'm still up there
Pouring my all
Into whatever container
You need filled.

I am not dead.....

Still

I just found out after years
of light and loving laughter
that you've hated me all this time.
It's crazy the number
of masks in your collection,
happy and caring and loving masks
that were, in the end, too good to be true.
Just thinking about you makes me think
about the masks we all put up.
It's like every morning we wake up
to go to a huge masquerade party,
and instead of taking
our masks off at the end of the night,
we sleep with them on,
always lying, always deceiving
even when the party's over.

I feel like my world is ending,
like the earth just split in two
the same way my heart did.
But I'll be okay,
this isn't the first time
the stars stopped shining.
I may feel like I'm dying,
but I'll still be alive.
I'll be fine.

I didn't want you,
I wanted love
and I have realised
that they are not the same thing.

You were a mould
that I poured my insecurities in,
a computer I tried to program.

But you are a sky,
stormy and clear and rainy and warm.

You were so blue when I longed for red.

I didn't want you.
I wanted the thought.