will words
set me
f        e
   r          e
or be the
death
of me?

and just like when a tree falls in the forest
it will make a sound regardless of who is there to hear it
and you, my dear, are still beautiful, even when he’s not around to see it

But I don't want you to come back.

You're back,
but I won't allow you to come back.

You're back,
but I deserve better.

You're back,
but not for me.

I want to move forward
so badly
but all this time
a spire
has stood in our way.
I love you as hard
as I could imagine
loving anyone
but still
it's not enough.

I am not allowed to live with you
because they would disagree.
And
we cannot
get married
because you are not free.

You say that you're sorry
and I surely believe you
but
it doesn't change things.

I still sleep
                      alone.
And we lie
                      perfectly.

I don't want to live this way.

I cannot keep doing this.

I need to
escape
escape
escape
escape

Doctor, my pen
is mighty as your scalpel. It cuts
as deep and broad.  Layer upon

layer it excavates ignorance and hate. Dare I say
my work’s as great? We both work with
our hands, minds, hearts

and thrones. For the greatness of ourselves,
the greatness of others, the greatness of
pen and scalpel

She asked “Did you take the trash out?”
How do I answer that?
I guess.
There’s still more here.
There are things waiting to be trash
There’s things that we think are things but they’re actually trash
There are things that I think are things but you think they’re thrash and vice versa
We’re eventually going to go out and buy things that will one day become trash
Then someone is going to take the trash and turn it back into a thing until no one wants that thing then it goes back to being trash
Perhaps it’s because we’re so used to handling trash
That sometimes we tend to treat each other the same way

And no, I didn’t take the trash out