I don’t like being broken .
To be deconstructed and made into metaphors .
To be compared to the pretty things I simply can’t be for myself .
To sound like the waves of the oceans but exist only as a ripple in a random puddle .
To look like an early bloomer in a field of sunflowers but exist only as a dead seed .
But listen to me world , I may be **** .
I may be destruction bound to plead for nothing but attention .
I am bountiful in my presence yet lack so much affection .
I spread . Fields and fields of disregard .
I am unwanted . I am undesired . A penniless card .

But I am something .
And some things are beautiful.

You imprint your warm breath
On the edges of my neck ,
And like black soldiers rising in resilience
My skin forms goosebumps that trickle down in a pattern of frustration.
Like little obstacles placed to challenge your lustrous desire to taste me .
I am a textured canvas .
These dots are not there to map my body .
Not for your navigation .
Not for you to find pieces of me as if I had abandoned them.
Lost .
Find yourself.
Move swiftly along this artwork
like the sway of my hips captive in
Your arms.

Feel.

My body was once a
TEMPLE.
Semantic memories fade like
MISCONSTRUCTED.
sentences
Too many commas
Too many expressions
PAUSED.
Yet they go on and on

Full stops where
EMPTY.
promises should have been
Upper case convictions for lower case hearts
Filling gaps and leaving no space to breathe
CONFINED.
by suffocating vocabularies
UNFORGIVABLE.
utterances lingering on.

My body was once a temple .
My body was once bold .

My heart beats aren’t instrumental .
They’re painful .
And there’s no rhythm to remedy
the wreck that I am .
Every lub-dub is an alarm clock
waking me up to my reality.
A reminder that I’m still
broken .
That I’m still inhaling what kills me .

And so silence was my middle name.
Unabridged.
Alphabet hammered ,bruised and battered.
Letters chiseled to perfection with only a tinge of willingness.

For the brief chance I had to a whiff of fresh air ;the fresh air that briskly made love to the reality of my circumstance, I was willing .
Willing to endure what had tested me with no memorandum inked to attest to my hardships .

Til the very same fog that danced around the uncertain rhythms of my life, stagnated .
Still.
Stood anxiously awaiting a staggering movement from me .
Still.
A haze I never wished to intensify .
A blur that clogged the oceans of my eyes sailed by amateur emotions that were bound by unruly currents.
I found myself drowning all over again.
Gasping for that fresh air all over again . Holding on to that willingness all over again .

And then I suffocated .
Wriggled in my own imperfections.
Oxygen no longer felt like an element that gave me life .
Period.
It cringed in the air and allowed me to breathe in it’s uncertainty.
Breathe in it’s discomfort and displacement.
Still leaning left to right ,still attempting to comprehend where I stand because with a table of rusty , polluted contents , a girl like me could never be in her element.

Until silence was my middle name.
Birthed in the aftermath.
Words no longer strong enough to carry the emotion I filled them with .
No longer prepared to sway with heaviness .Unbalanced because I was stripped of a beauty that I created for myself and was left to feel less than nothing .

Allow me to reintroduce myself.
Silence is the name.
Daughter to Fear and adopted by Contentment.

Silence is the name.
Cousin to anxiety and befriended by Peace.

Still ,my name is silence .
And silence is still my name .

Sifted blends of bitter beauty
Removing fabricated purities of divine roots
Infertile seeds moulded into concoctions
Of casketed cruelties
Motions melting into stagnant figures .
Outnumbered by the numbness of silence .