red torii gates separate the sacred
engraved with kana names
I step on the stone tiles
reinvent myself by praying
to every god I have never believed in
donating all the coins I have to shrines
the omamori will protect me
with pretty ribbons, silk, and wood
their birds guide to understanding
converting lies into truths before me
their paper songs a tender kindness
and there is courage within me
even as my voice turns to melody
my words spill out a tune
the temple walls hum
a chorus of veracity, louder
I have come to realize the importance
of moral authenticity within me
your gracious decency, divine
delicate gentleness with my fragility
from shattered pieces I rebuild
recollect myself and rise stronger
the sakura blossoms melt
the tide rises up the torii
compelled by a cold moon
wooden birds take flight away
and I return solid and true

listening to instrumental music alone
typing away at my mundane paper
cold, tired, depressed

this is my life
every day, I am lonely
I am alone

and someday I will die
this very same way
cold, tired, depressed, alone

but when I die
I do not wish you to think
I have always been like this

you made me happy
you made me feel whole
you warmed me up

let me nap nestled against you
thanks to you, I felt happiness
thanks to you, I was loved

I needed to hear these words today
and I thought,
maybe you need to hear them, too

sometimes you’ll put up a good fight
you will do everything right in life
and you will still lose
sometimes you’ll hold on really hard
and realize there is no choice
but to let go and walk away
this isn't failure, or weakness
this is part of being human
acceptance is a strength

you cannot convince anyone to love you
not your mother, nor partner, nor friends
those in your life will never give you love
just because you want them to give it
love can move freely
it ebbs and flows in every direction
and it graces people with it's presence
just as quickly as it leaves us bereft
and perhaps it's fleeting nature
makes it all the more beautiful
when people who love each other
connect

I think about time I've spent
moments in my life
watching ****** movies
eating bad food
working dead end job
after dead end job
staring at the blank wall
listening to ticking clocks
cheerfully counting down my demise
long walks I'd take at dusk
down the trails by the river
pretending I enjoy running
because the pounding of my heart
in my head made me feel alive
I'd think about life and death
and whether god exists
and whether love exists
about ***, philosophy, infinities
the hours I have spent writing
poetry and nonfiction
displaying myself for scrutiny
painting canvas that I hate
to make myself feel something
to hope it reaches someone
reading Nietzche and Foucault
as if my existence could matter
but along the way I found myself
and maybe all of these moments
have led up to something
consequential and meaningful
every moment is part of my journey
every experience is part of becoming
every hour has lead me to you
so not a single second
of my life has ever been wasted

no introductions required
I don't need to know your name
nor you, mine
I'm here to bind
your naked wrists together
behind your bare back
slender shoulders
skin spilling over rope
watch your bare chest hitch
shallow breaths
restricted by my tension
careful to avoid your *******
cross the pattern along ribs
observing the bruises along your neck
as I move your hair out of my way
I am busy working
observing patches of blue and black
on your sides and stomach
where he had his way with you
and I feel a pang of envy
somewhere deep in my stomach
because I wish anyone would want me
the way he wants you
but I'm here to learn
how to fold string
create red patterns
on your soft skin
hoping someday, someone
will want to be bound
the way you are now
mine for more than just the hour

Dear self,

Be brave enough to break your own heart.

You spent thirty minutes talking to your mother last night. She wasn't great to you growing up, and I know that. I think back about how she teased you for wearing long sleeve shirts over summer when you cut yourself. I think about the time she told you to **** yourself. I think about how she tried to cut out people from your life and still, to this day, doesn't know about some of your closest friends because you needed to protect them from her.

Do you realize how loud your unhappiness needs to scream for her to hear it? This may be the first time, in thirty years, that she listened to it. She took it seriously. She told you to go. That it would be okay. And she validated the thing you have known in the pit of your stomach and the bottom of your heart for years.

Go.

You aren't a bad person for leaving a situation that doesn't work for you. Leaving someone you love doesn't mean you never deserve love again. You aren't disgusting. You aren't a monster. You aren't being stupid. You aren't making a mistake. You have always told others that they don't need a reason to leave. You have always shown everyone else a kindness you could never show yourself.

Leave.

Just because you have everything others want doesn't mean it's what you want, or what you need. Right now, at this moment, this isn't good for you, and that's okay. You love him. He loves you. It was beautiful, and it was good. And ending this will destroy both of you in ways you won't even imagine right now. And no one will fix these holes inside of you. It takes courage to realize you need to rebuild yourself. It takes courage to become.

It takes courage to break your own heart. But just like the physical scars you've given yourself, the emotional ones will heal, too. And you will be okay. This is your permission to do what is right for you.

Love,

Yourself

I wait for the ground to reclaim me
organic tissue, clothing of cotton
biodegradable, degraded
metallic dirt with soot and wood
blood spills from my mouth
uncontrollable
I am injured and waiting
I gurgle through a deep reverie
where the ground swallows me whole

cold soil poured over flesh
artisanal grave keepers
bury me along the elms and oaks
and I become strong enough
to conquer my darkest self
to dig out of the night
and somehow, somewhere
find you with my last breath
in my final hour
to say the words I mean--
it is you
it has always been you
the answer
to the unasked question
the vision late at night
before my sweetest slumber
the craving when I don't know
what I want
has always been you

but I stare at the sky
feel cold, sticky blood
leave my body
and wait for the ground
to claim me