Been a while since I took them, the little keys to sleep. Unlock codes for unconsciousness, cheat codes for non-committal death.

But tonight the pain is unbearable, the mental wounds are bleeding like they’re fresh. Scenes replaying in my mind constantly, mocking me mercilessly for believing that they’d left.

Time is supposed to be a healer, or so I’ve been told. Time must have missed me off it’s to-do list because  healing is a card I’ve never been dealt.

The pain is effervescent bubbling through my veins and laying heavy on my chest. Tramadol couldn’t even dull it, it demands to be felt.

My only recourse are these tiny promises of temporary respite; I take more than recommended, playing roulette with this life.

It’s been a while since I took them, the little keys to sleep, I wish I could leave them but I’m weak.

I was an innocent drawn to the broken and emotionally dead.
Like a moth to a flame I flew straight into my death.
The personification of fools rush in where angels fear to tread.

It seems like I’ve been stuck between sadness and insanity for an infinity, so much so that that three of us are bound for life; such is our bittersweet shared affinity

Empty because I feel so full.
Full of doubt, full of anxiety, full of self loathing.

Broke because I’m spent.
I’ve spent all my kindness, I’ve spent all my understanding, I’ve spent all my love.

Ignorant because I’m enlightened.
Enlightened to the true nature of the world, enlightened to the true nature of heartbreak, enlightened to the true nature of you.

She was made of something different; I could never shake the feeling that she was something else completely.

She loved so deeply that it would put oceans to shame, she was magic in every sense of the word. I could never understand why she chose me.

She was pure and sweet, her smile alone could wear the most bitter of men down, and the only way I could accept her love was by making her feel less than ordinary.

She loved me more than she loved herself, did more for me than I did for myself, but something inside me came alive each time she’d weep because of me.

She was an angel sent by God, his gift to me, but like a toddler with a toy, I tore off her wings and tossed her to Lucifer to keep as his plaything.

When I was a child I was the ugly duckling personified. My days and nights were filled with dreams of being breathtakingly beautiful, a sight for sore eyes.

When I became a woman, I realised that Tv, magazines and movies had lied. I’m breathtakingly beautiful yes, but there’s a hole in my soul I have to perpetually hide.

When I was a child I’d scoff at those who said beauty was pain. My conditioned brain found this notion absurdly insane. I maintained that if I was ever breathtakingly beautiful, I’d never have the audacity to complain!

When I became a woman, all my breathtaking beauty ever bought me was pain. Ironically with every heartbreak I became even more beautiful, but inside my soul I am tormented by demons bearing my ex lovers names.

You don’t love me.
You never did.
I stopped chasing.
We ceased to exist.

We pop prescription pills and chase them with spirits and hard liquor, desperate each time for the anaesthetic to set in quicker.

We employ a barrage of avoidance techniques like finding a new bed in which to sleep every day of the week, praying even for ten minutes to find the peace that we seek.

We show we don’t care, though we do. Act like feelings aren’t there, though they are. Hoping that pseudo-nonchalance will eventually become our real mind state, though it won’t.

We believe we’re enlightened and unique. Demigods favoured by the divine, we claw onto the narrative of martyrdom in a bid to justify the pain that tortures our minds.

We are lost, forever waiting to be found. Relentlessly pursuing this notion that finding the one will make you whole, when it won’t.

We are not two souls fated to meet by destiny. You are just you, and I am just me.

I set fire to his soul through my eyes alone. Without touching him I built inside him a permanent home.

Your beauty, your curves, your aesthetic perfection will never be enough, he will never be completely satiated with just lust.

You see, he has experienced my heart, my mind and my soul and for eternity now nobody else will ever come close.

If I could love anyone with all my soul again, I swear beautiful boy it would be you.

I’d tell you every day that your smile stops me in my steps every time I see it and it reverberates throughout my mind, body and soul.

I’d count the seconds until seeing you again every moment we’re apart and happily accept the longing stabbing my heart.

I’d sit with you in silence, grateful to be close to your aura’s beautiful glow, content in the feeling of finally being home.

I’d remain beside you even in a war zone, making beautiful music from the background of explosions and military drones.

I’d do this all and more beautiful boy, if I could. Oh how I wish I could. I wish I could.

You said you were enthralled by the fire in my eyes when I spoke of my distrust of the government and their lies

You smiled that infectious smile of wonderment when I would randomly quote Kafka and Nietzsche, your eyes gave away your admiration whenever you’d watch me speak

You were the first to acknowledge how my mind outshone my beauty, you spoke incessantly about how you’d never met anyone quite like me

And then you left.

I’m the queen of leaving you on seen
Even though I like you a lot
There’s a voice in my head saying leave him on read so he thinks you don’t give a ****

You see, I’m the queen of breaking my own heart by ending things before they even start
There’s a voice in my head telling me he’ll shatter your heart, so take that knife and be first to plunge it in

I’m the queen of the toxic kingdom I’ve created in my mind, my kingdom is a fortress for my vulnerable side. Theres a voice in my head commanding dragons and centaurs to relentlessly patrol my mind’s fortress, forever ensuring no access, even to hearts like yours