something drew you to me
as something drew me to you
an invisible thread
that i was afraid was too thin
to hold us together,
to keep you where i wanted you
so i cut it myself (like i used to cut my shell)
and i didn't know that
the rope was actually wire
and cutting it made it go slack,
and it hit me
r i g h t i n m y c h e s t
but i still loved you,
i loved you as i bled,
i loved you on my knees.
i loved you while you grabbed me by the waist
and kissed away the tears
saying 'hush now, butterfly, it's all okay'
but i didn't die, no.
i ended up in the ICU,
where I (had to) see you.
And then you admitted
you were into me,
but not like that (?)

r.c.

my feet quickly began to meld into the
rubber grips on the stairs descending (into hell, I promise)
and wasn't I supposed to ask him something?
or wait, maybe I was supposed to ask yesterday.
what if I see someone I know?
ohnonono don't look at him
don't-
yeah, yeah, I'm perfectly fine but if you don't mind,
I need to get this test done (so I can go home, but I don't say that)
there's a sword fight going on in my spine,
and a boxing match in my head.
somehow my tears manage to stay
on the bridge of my lips,
staying off of the paper
that will judge me.
and then I wipe them with
ever graying hands, hands that shake
as I pass him the booklet,
and hands that turn the doorknob
releasing me and flushing out
all the panic.

r.c.

I am a lost cause and they’re still waiting to grow old
if you heard me say that you’d be disgusted but
you’d say it right back
to you I am a flower on a broken stem it’s hard
to miss the grief in your eyes no matter how many times
I tell you I’m not dead
I can hear them in the other room their voices
tucked behind mourning veils
it’s like they’re circled around some abandoned chrysalis
like she quit while she’s ahead and
if lives were prophecies hers was not fulfilled
(oh isn’t she
isn’t she empty)
they have pictures of the time she raised butterflies
they still have the empty jar and she stopped missing their wings
a long time ago
they told me I died and I swallowed dirt to prove them wrong
(oh isn’t she
empty)
I cut myself open expecting a desert
and instead I found a waterfall

I wonder if
you're noticing me cringing because your voice
no longer soothes me into a state of serenity,
instead it manages to make my hands shake
and my head hurt.
And if you can see my hands shaking,
do I need to sit on them?
Because something about the days a h e a d
are twisting up my i n s i d e s.
And I'm at war with insanity,
I've lost my mind and any ounce of me that cared.
If you notice my frantic state,
how come you haven't asked me if I'm okay
like you usually do, and how come you
won't center me, pull me out of the tide,
because you're strong and I,
I am turning inside out, completely and utterly
broken.
My bones are where my skin should be, my hair
is blood, and I am made of skin and senses.
Except that I am numb,
so maybe I am blind, and deaf, and dead.
please, center me because I am off balance,
and I have fallen, and the world is tilted.
center me (please) because you're the center of my world.

r.c.