I take my fingers and lodge them into the skin barrier above my heart --
Tearing the skin and breaking the bones: a gateway to the kingdom of love.
And as I remove the king from its throne, fluttering and warm, I inspect him for damage;
Scars and healing;
A sign of progress and growth.
This is a ruler who has fought and braved the front lines, walked steadfast into battle and came out the other side.
Sometimes he was victorious, other times taking more damage than his enemies, a truce the only resolution to the fight--
But he is still beating and strong and guiding and ruling
And with his beats mimicking war drums, I am urged to march forward
steady.

Its heavy
Claustrophobic
A dry drowning
Each breath labouring and deliberate
And time moves slower
The metronome of my heartbeat just a little off
When I'm asked to explain I am choked by imaginary hands
There's a ghost over my shoulder clasping his hand over my mouth
Whispering in my ear that speaking wont help
So I keep quiet
More scared of your rejection than the possibility that I will be met with some understanding
But I'm telling you now it's heavy
And claustrophobic,
A dry drowning, each breath labouring and deliberate
And time moves slower, so much so that even the metronome of my heartbeat is just a little off.

I'm painting myself
Dipping the brush in neons of yellows and pinks
The greens swirling with the oranges
Gemometric streets lining my arms
Rolling hills winding up and down my stomach
Dots placed where I want on my face
Stripes and stars and hearts over blemishes
This is beauty
This is forgiveness to the harshness of my own opinions
I'm reclaiming my, me, mine
This body is a body that does good works and grows and moves me from place to place
It can run and jump and hold others tightly
It can make music and drive and sing and dance
And now even with the lights off
I will shine in the blacklight of my mind
I'm bringing these colors to my skin
I'm reclaiming what's mine again

His tongue felt too big for his mouth
A cotton plant growing in his throat, but he choked the words out around the dry leaves and the tears that threatened to fall and water it.
"I'm sorry too."

Sometimes you meet someone and later realize how much you should have remained strangers
But your paths have crossed and now you can never be the same
Tell me you feel the same
I'm begging

I'm stuck feeling for something that doesnt exsist
A dream I lost consciousness in too hard
The waking world doesnt feel the emotions I have
Words no language could begin to describe
They were artificial and simulated
But still the most I've felt in a long time

I had so much to say I wrote it on paper, folded it in a square until I couldnt anymore, and sealed it in a bottle
When I dropped it in the ocean I thought nothing of it--
Thought nothing of who would answer or where it would end up
A part of me believing it would break and sink to be unanswered forever
Theses bottles
These messages
My secret.
I can tell you, the ocean, the river, the stream
I can whisper my words into your waters.
Hope comforting that they will evaporate in time
And rain down again
An answer in their downpour

She asked why I loved the rain
I didnt know what to say

A part of me longs to be alone
A part of me fears to be sitting in my suffering
Clawing my hands through dirt
Nails ***** and filled with grime
I'm trying to reach the clay
I think if I dig far enough
Past all the heavily packed imperfections
I can break it up and move it enough to find the one thing that I can form and hold to my will
I can change myself into what I truly want to be
I'll spin the wheel and make something beautiful
When you use it please think of me

I stitched for years
Pricking my fingertips until they bled
A slow steady bead of red rising to the surface
Reminding me I'm human time again
But still I stitched
Thread into thread
Feather into feather
These wings supposed to make me fly
Taking much longer than I estimated
How large they needed to be to support me
To carry me into a place where I could break apart the universe and understand it better
But when that time came to jump I couldn't
The fear of falling so much more terrifying than the prospect of rising
And I guess if Icarus can walk then so can I

I dont like confrontation.
In fact I will do almost anything to avoid it if I can
Thats probably what makes me a good manager-- because I'm able to diffuse a situation before it becomes one
That's also probably why I let the trash pile up on the patio for weeks until we recieved an eviction notice
Because I'm scared of confrontation

I'm scared to tell you it hurts me that I've done the dishes the last 3 times because you wont put in a maintenance request to fix the dishwasher but I can't because you want to be here when someone comes.
I'm scared to tell you I hate that I'm the only one who takes out the trash because you ***** and gag if you touch a trash bag
Well I'm gagging too, but it has to be done because we're adults.
I'm always so happy when I come home and find the trash to be gone only to open the pantry and find the bags there. Only to open the balcony door and find the trash there.
Now that I think about it, you always complain that you'll throw up if you do it and I think that's a form of gaslighting.
I'm scared to tell you that instead of buying supplies to make cobbler when we had no food in the house, you should have bought basic materials to eat or god forbid a plunger because your toilets been clogged for 3 weeks and you have to use mine.

I'm scared to tell you I hate your rabbit and the fact that it chewed up 4 of my phone chargers, my echo plug, my laptop cord, vaccum, and is now tearing up my carpet. Oh also the fact that it's YOUR rabbit and I had to buy you hay when you were running low, but you could buy another fish tank we dont have room for.

I'm scared to tell you these habits of yours are bothering me because you're no longer lucid and I think you're slightly addicted---but everytime your boyfriend brings that up you complain.

I'm scared of confrontation. So tonight I made 4 trips to the dumpster at 2am filling my car up with garbage bag after garbage bag because I was embarrassed of how much trash we had and I didn't want the neighbors to hear or see.

I told you I was doing it at that time expecting your help, but instead you told our guest you'd waited all day for me to do it and took a trazodone and fell asleep.

Tomorrow I can already tell I'll have to wear my braces and use my cane.

Tomorrow I'll wake with baggy eyes from a sleepless night of anger of frustration of worry of tears from the fear that comes with the confrontation of the text I sent you asking you to please take out the last of the 3 trash bags by the door.

I'm waiting for the excuses.

I'm no longer asked what I want to be when I grow up
That question has changed into what I wanted to be as if my young 21 year old self is out of time, is out of drive, is out of dreams because I work retail
Three time college dropout doesnt show much promise for dreams
Three time college dropout can't handle the pressure of school
If you just had a degree you'd be further in life
A lie my parents pounded into my head
My neighborhood white, and judging, and privileged,
And I'm not disregarding that or am denying my privilege, but it made me feel like I was supposed to be more than what I am
Never living up to the expectations of suburbia
Parents not understanding how someone who had so many opportunities could destroy them all and work retail
I destroyed them all but not by choice
It was a decision made a gunpoint, hands leaving fingerprints slowly bruising my throat, air choked out my answer with tears in my eyes that I would fail in yours
I had asked for help
But my privilege should have been all the help I needed
The opportunities and material items subsidizing serotonin
How could anyone with all this be depressed?
A counselor once asked me where I saw my future and I told her I didnt think I'd have one.
What's the point in planning for a future where that spot on the timeline was already ripped off the page
Life ending too soon
Too abruptly to allow for any success
My success is being here today, alive, and breathing, medicated for some feeling other than emptiness and my parents come and visit my bare apartment with judging eyes
I call them more often than not to ask for some help---pay for a doctor's appointment here, cover some rent there, my car insurance is coming up and I dont even know what agent we use and can you cover it because I'm still trying to get on my feet
Recently my body started to deteriorate
My right side joints failing with some unknown illness I had to walk with braces and a cane
I couldn't go to the doctor because I dont have insurance
But I'm not sure if what I'm seeking at this point is medical or emotional


I'm scared to talk to you because I work retail

It's been 6 days
My hair is in a greasy knot kept semi presentable with dry shampoo
My skin breaking out like I'm going through puberty
My legs and armpits constantly hidden because I dont trust myself enough with a blade to only shave.
It's been 6 days
My towels are hanging right where they should be
My toiletries glaring at me from the edge of the tub
I cant bring myself to step over that threshold
It's been 6 days
And I know if I attempt I wont be able to stand
Instead sitting in the dark while water too hot blasts this punishment into my back for abandoning it for too long
I can always pretend my life is together
Fridge full, makeup neat, bills paid
From the outside I look like I'm doing fine
But I know the truth
And it's been 6 days

There is a first aid kit in my bathroom
Menagerie of cotton, disinfectant, plasters
Reaching for it I click the lid open and stare
Push aside some boxes never opened never needed
Push aside wrappers long since needing a trash can
And as I rummage I become frantic
        Not here!
           Not here!
            Where is it?
         Not here!
It seems this first aid kit cannot do much for my mental
It cannot do much for broken heart
It cannot do much for a frantic night of disallusions
But it can keep my paper cut covered and protected from unexpected assaults from overuse of hand sanitizer
And that will have to do...

It starts here with your hand gripping the bottle too tightly
It ends with stained hands
Impulse
Mania
Change
For now this will do.
A small semblance of control back over your life.
It will satisfy for a bit until it washes out
And the stains are slowly lifted from your hands
New skin cells replacing the old
And you'll be back here again in time
Gripping a bottle too tightly
Breathing in fumes too precariously
Listing to music too loudly
Chasing a minuscule sense of control and steadiness and power and change
And change

--Dying my hair

It stays, it stays, it stays this way--
Close in the dark; words huddling and wrapped in the eager cavity of your chest
Using ribs as lap bars hoping to keep this feeling there---
Trapped until it heals you
Too long has past since your heart felt love like this
And you fear if it leaves the ride prematurely, it will be to afraid to try again

--Your heartbeats are sounding over the roaring in your ears that this could fall apart again

I want to pack a bag, step outside, and walk
I don’t know where—I don’t have a destination,
Never have
I just want to walk and escape life for a little while
But I can’t do that
I have bills and jobs and people and animals depending on me
I was supposed to know who I was by this point
Instead my soul endlessly wanders without my body’s company
Reaching conclusions with flawed logic
And I know healing is not linear,
But all I’ve ever done is walk forward
and I’m still unsure of where I am and where to go from here

I have loved my name and I have hated it
Hidden it; buried it; burned it
Threw it back to my parents—I did not want it
I let it fly from my lips only as a toxic poison.
Do not call me it.
A nickname then name change and I renounced what identified me my entire life
Sick of the jokes how I was so ungraceful for someone who carried that title
Sick of the smiles from strangers telling me they always wanted a daughter with my name
Sick of the expectations a name like Grace held
As I renounced my faith
Renounced my upbringing
I renounced the name that kept me tied to a life I never wanted

But I have loved my name
In its fullest, truest meaning of the term
Love to the unlovely; peace to the restless;
Love that cares and stoops and rescues
A name with such a force to live up to
I realize even when running from and hating myself,
I loved so deeply for others that I began to learn to love myself again
And maybe expectations are frightening and thrilling all the same

--I’m trying to live up to my name

I didn’t call out of work today
I didn’t answer the voicemails from concerned coworkers asking if I was alright
I didn’t go into work late with a half-assed excuse of traffic or a mixed up schedule
Instead I went home and slept
Deleting any texts or history of calls as some illusion to myself that they never happened

I laid in my bed confused
This unfeeling-ness not new or unfamiliar just unwelcome and abrupt
Like housing an old friend I once knew too well
I’m unprepared for the visit though
Unsure of how to handle a guest without plans or food in the house to entertain with
It’s been a while since I’ve had to deal with her

     --I moved to the mountains and got stuck in a valley

Small but there--
I can acknowledge it in the least;
A dim glowing of a promise
That something is yet to come
And I feel like Gatsby staring at that green light across the lake
So certain his love is there,
But I know that my light is attainable
If only I should chose to be brave

--Im holding out hope that fear will not stop me from loving again.

I keep passing mirrors searching
Store windows hoping
for just a glimpse of who I am

I want someone to treat me the way I treat my poetry
With care--delibrately chosen words
I want someone to feel that rush of nostalgia and pride when they look at me,
The same way I feel when I read past font
I want someone to wonder what else I could mean to them, as if I am more than a passing fancy to be briefly admired and then forgotten
But then I think and remember
When I write my poetry I am enthralled, proud, captivated by it's words
I read it again until it's perfect and keep it close to my heart
And when it is finished it is done
Another page on my laptop
Another document to title and hide from the world
Another poem just like the rest
I go back and re read
More often than not forgetting the emotions that were once so strong I felt the need to make them physical
Forgetting what made that poem so special in that moment
Forgetting why I ever thought it was once one of my best now seeing that it was just okay
And it makes me wonder if I really want that at all

But she was there
Beautiful and intelligent
Strikingly so in both terms
The world couldnt begin to understand
And she wondered what it said about her that she always longed to outwit the detective rather than to catch the killer

I hope one day your lips will curl around your meager breakfast of coffee and cigarettes and acknowledge that despite what they've told you, you are not hard to love.

I've always been a liar. Compulsively, reluctantly, neededly, jokingly, egotistically a liar. Yet, the one I've told the most lies to is myself. I believe sometimes if you say a lie enough that sometimes it becomes the truth. I believed that if I said I'm fine enough that eventually it would come to pass. But it doesn't work. I can fool every other person on this earth, but the one person who can see through my lies is the only one I wish could believe them.

I fought with you the other night
the tears on my face trying desperately to wash
away the demeaning words you threw at me
an embarrassment to you
a *** who will never be anything more
I have to keep telling myself that this is gas lighting
this is abuse
this is you making yourself feel better
because I have to believe that I am so much
more than you limit me to be
after all
if I can't believe in myself
who could?

It took me a laughably long time to figure out that happiness isn't some pipe-dream want or a privilege

   ---You deserve to be happy

I keep waiting for the other foot to drop
waiting for someone to tell me that this
dream that I'm in is too good to be true
I know I should wake up but that would
mean facing a nightmare
I keep waiting for everything going
right in my life to laugh in my face in
disbelief that I fell for the joke that my life
could be anything worth living
I'm flicking my eyes to the corners and
shadows of rooms expecting the cameras
to come out any day now
Reality is so entertaining;
my failure and strife amusement to others
I'm waiting but nothing is coming
I haven't heard any hands on doors pounding
any car engines start running
any heavy breathing approaching to boast that this if fake
For once in my life things are going right

I am happy

I am living

I am happy that I'm living

   ---5 Years ago I wouldn't have believed you

I'm starting this new life
new town
new job
better fiends
I'm building myself up and you're still demanding a roof with no foundation
you're complaining about the lack of paintings but you don't have any walls to put them on
I've given you all the materials that I can
It hurts me to know that you wont be with me the same way on this journey anymore
seventeen years of growth has changed us both
and while I'm terrified to go without you
I know you will hold be back
I am excited to see how far I can go by only taking care of myself

I will always be your best friend

--I think you stopped being mine awhile ago

Its here again tonight like a cinder brick on my chest
In this grave I call a bed I'll surely die from no rest
The air is too thick milkshake through a narrow straw
And no matter how I gasp air will not provide my lungs
with what they need to survive

And I'm sweating and I'm turning
Well at least I am in my mind because I'm stuck in too warm sheets and the heat they trap inside
I can hear my heart beat like a bomb counting to my doom
And it keeps on beating faster and I dont know what to do

--Lately I can't sleep with the thought that I will die

I'm happy that you're happier than me
I really am
I'm not one of those people that wishes my life on others
I'm glad you have such a loving support system
That you are doing so well for yourself
Even if it means that you are alone
Even if it means that I am alone
I'm happy for you

You reminded me of a time when everything wasnt so balanced
When a step this way or that would throw my entire life out of line
And it forces me to realize I'm walking on a cliff without a steady handrail
A rusted culmination of metal and paint flakes the only life vest before I'm taken over by these waves that threaten to drag me under
You remind me that life is unpredictable
That happiness is not constant
That effort must be continuous for a payoff
I can't float in a sea forever without drowning
I cant stand at a cliff edge letting my eyes guide me instead of my feet and trust that the wind wont push me over the edge
You remind me that right now will change
And I'm still not sure how to feel about that

And I asked that you love me more than I hate myself
That's a tall order
A request that one may think is impossible
But you looked me in my eyes
With a fierceness that could set out forest fires
And through your parted lips
You whispered
I already do.

In this moment it all feels subdued
in the quiet light of the moon who has known me my whole life
The darkness that blankets me with comfort rather than fear
The knowledge that life
At least for right now
Is meaningless

I'm playing Uno with God
And they keep hitting me with a draw four.

There are very few times I bite my tounge
Constantly told I am too blunt and abrasive
My head slower than my mouth in most situations
But I bite my tounge around you
I swallow the words back into my lungs and hold them there until my lips are blue
I cannot tell you of these feelings I still have for you
I cannot jeopardize this again
I will hold my breath like I'm passing a graveyard hoping what used to be between us doesn't become one.

I don't want to exsist for awhile
But I'm told that's suicidal ideation
And I realize time again that yes I have depression
I want to call into work sad
Tell them I cant do this today
Or any day for that matter
That my brain is missing chemicals here and has too many chemicals there and it makes me exhausted physically, mentally, emotionally
But I can't call into work sad
I can't take a personal day to not exsist
There are jobs to be done and people counting on me
Ironic that anyone would when I cant even count on myself
How could I ever explain that I fight every day with a body that doesn't want me to exsist
How do I explain that showing up to work took more energy than my coffee fueled brain has
How do I explain that while I dont want to die,

I dont want to be.

Like you my muse has been lacking; distant
Like you
My muse went from lover to friend
Upbruptly and unexpected
Like you my muse is becoming less and less of someone I know very well and very fondly and more of a tense acquaintance I pass in the grocery store with heavy eyes and a forced smile
Grocery stores are the worst though
We're always forced to meet up in a different isle
And we continue this ruse of feigned "okayness"
And you take your handfull of items and emotions to self-checkout
While I'm drowning in a cart full of ingredients I can't feasibly make a meal out of
And check out with a clerk I pay a hundred dollars every visit
And meet a nutritionist to help me shop
And you
You just get on with your life

And it was an urge
An inkling of a whim
A hand between my shoulder blades lightly reassuring me
And that's all it was supposed to be
My impulsive behavior is not unusual
Many piercings and tattoos once an intrusive thought now permanently affixed on my body
You were the same
An impulse
A two year long impulse that brought me more happiness than I could have imagined and more pain than I care to admit


--Unlike my tattoos a small part of me regrets you

I painted my face today and did not seek your validation
I did not think of your words telling me that I look better without it
I did not argue back saying I wore it because I liked it
We did not end the fight with me wiping my art off my skin
I wish it was because you finally learned to accept my fondness of the result
Rather than the reality that you are no longer here.

It's incomplete and distanced
Like losing an old friend
Fondness and nostalgia burrowing in this empty space you've given me
Dissociation always takes hold here
The world a still life painting I'm not very fond of
I'd rather go back to your texts
Prolonging the words
Putting off that dreaded end
Until we meet again

I breathe in the calamity
the scent of chaos overwhelming my senses
and I sit in this musk
this odor of turmoil
this crawling feeling that comes tandem with disarray
my mind is never calm
in this moment I find myself agitated
eager to move to a motionless mindset
where everything makes sense
and nothing is clouded in a fog of uncertainty
but here I sit paralyzed physically by a mental block
in time it will pass
in time it will pass

And eventually your name will stop tasting like poison
and your picture will no longer stab like a knife
I will be able to face you without slowly dying
Finally able to continue on with my life