I haven't had my heart broken.
But I have thrown it against another person
and broke it myself.

He would've looked handsome in wedding photos,
but even more in a suit and tie
on the other side of the divorce court.

He would roll up his sleeves like a lawyer.
He would say things like:
You ruined my life when you got pregnant.

As if babies were something a woman conjured inside
herself out of lovesickness and desperation.
A snare in which to trap a man like him.

But instead I broke myself on him like surf on the ramparts.
I foamed and spat and washed myself right back
out to sea again.

And all I have is a notch on my map, marking
a shallow harbor,
a few torn sails
and an empty womb.

It breathes memories into my charcoaled lungs
The calluses on my palms
The ever lingering self doubt following my every step
Its heart beats in the herb garden on my balcony
Pulses through my broken alabaster skin
And quakes in the grooves of my cracked ribcage
It sleeps on the folded fitted sheets in my cabinet
Stirring restlessly at the smell of stale beer and fresh tobacco
It awakens with a jolt whenever it smells blood
Its stretching into my pinned back colony hair
Weaving its way through the secret stories
Into eardrums saying "you must **** yourself to get out"
This ghost of my family
Whispering commands into my ears
I am only now hearing it's voice
Because I always believed it was mine
This goodbye is not reconciliation with the voices
It is a resurrection of my own.

As long as I can remember
I had this friend
Only, I didn't see her
I only felt her touch

At first, no one else saw her
She blended in with me
We appeared as one
And maybe we were

Over time, she grew impatient
She got louder, stronger
She'd rage and throw fits
But they still didn't see her

She learned to scream from my lips
Shutting me down
She took control over me
And I hid beneath her

She told me she'd protect me
And I believed every word
She had always been there
So there she ought to stay

Until she grew so loud
Others began to see
She shoved me so far down inside
And told me she knew best

Every thought, feeling, action
Was under her control
She held a toy gun to my head
And convinced me it was real

When she grew too loud,
Everyone could see
I didn't know
What was wrong with me

When I finally had the power
To put her in her place
She begged, clawed, and fought
Using every bit of strength

But I won

Now she sits quietly
Able to offer advice
Only when I ask her
Does she ever take control

Slowly but surely
I've found my way out
Of the cage she created
Deep within my self

I'd rather cut the cord
Than hang myself with it.

Ever since you left
I’ve been wondering
what it’d be like if we
were just parallel lines
never destined to meet
instead of two rusted cars
with broken brakes at a
crossroad without signage.