i freeze over
when i attempt to visualize giving myself
even an ounce of compassion

i would have to consider myself worthy
worthy of kindness
worthy of love
worthy of a home
worthy of life

i do not remember when i last felt i deserved compassion

it may have been when i was young
my foolish heart believed in the body for which it beat
until it broke
and broke
and broke

i am told i wear wisdom well
as if wisdom is a new coat that i tried on
instead of ancient scars under the fresh fabric

i did not choose
this

i plead with my reflection
even though we are both holding a knife
please
let me live
let me rest

but the villain lunges, slashing wildly, drawing blood
a hit
a palpable hit

i hold a shaky palmful of death
noting that it is surprisingly light

i swallow reflexively
feeling shocks through my hand

i could just do it
i could just do it right now and it would all be over

why don't i do it

my body, fighting to survive
my brain, begging to die
and i am no man's land

feeling small is sacred
when my head rests against Your warm chest
and i can hear Your heartbeat slow
as You begin to fall asleep in my arms

feeling small is sacred
when i feel Your lips against my forehead
Your warm hands cradling my face
Your smile against my cheek

feeling small is sacred
when i see Your eyes, illuminated by the warm morning sun coming in through Your bedroom window
not only the brilliant colors
but the depth of the soul within as well

feeling small is sacred
when i hear my own name in Your mouth
it sounds worthy of the warm love with which You pronounced it
and i almost want to ask You to say it again
just so i can hear it

when one is cared for
when one is held
when one is loved
the way You have me
feeling small is sacred

pale sickness
you're white as a sheet

draining illness
your clammy white skin
rots

deathly light
the diseased white sun will bleach your bones
after the doves pick them clean

sickly white
your cracked teeth clatter out of your skull
dominos in a dead white jar


trembling hands the color of spoiling milk
carefully cradle an almost translucent infant
mother and child
both far too weak to feed

the only thing that grows here is decay
white mold thrives on your hoarded white bread
while outside the safety of the white picket fence
there is not a single soul who does not
recognize the white of an unburied skeleton
under a full moon

the moon bares its jagged mouthful of tombstone teeth
but its fearsome snarl is lost to my eyes
for its sacrilegious white light cannot penetrate through the
looming canopy of gnarled old trees

i raise my rusted lantern high
green glass panels protect the flickering flame

glowing yellow eyes glare out, reflected in the rays of my lantern's light, but i do not fear or flee
i know now that beasts are ahead, in my path
and now that i am aware of their presence
they cannot ambush me from back the way i came

the howls echo through the mountains before me
the wolves expect an easy feast
but i will not be dinner

my hand around your throat
makes you melt against me
good boy
i purr
switch

your hand around my throat
makes my eyes flutter closed
and my mouth drop open
you release me and i open my eyes again
switch

all it takes this time is a look
i see your pupils dilate
and you open yourself to me once more
switch

when you bite my lip i can't bite back my moans
switch

you raise your arms above your head
switch

i love you
switch
i love you