Does he really love these stretch marks as he kisses along the deep purple, jagged indents in my skin?

How can he stare at this body
When I cant be in front of the mirror for longer than 2 minutes?

My belly the size of a watermelon for the 2nd time by no plan by the two of us.

I can't understand how he smiles everytime I change
Or how he still likes to whisper my name
But I'm lucky
To still feel loved by someone
Even though right now
That someone isn't me.

Hot creaminess
And
Cold wilderness
Is all I'll ever need

You will only ever get slivers of people

Until we learn how to mesh souls.

I sometimes wonder if it was fated.

Maybe it is my job to be the evil one now.

Maybe we were meant to switch roles this way

And I was meant to experience this pain, this empty, this hatred

For everything for being nothing I ever wanted.

Lately I find myself stopping and wondering,

"Did you feel this way too? Behind closed doors and in your waking every day life, were you also consumed by this?
Have you wanted to be better but every day become
Jeckle and Hyde even though you didn't want to?
Did you experience the loneliness?
The distance? The fear? The panic?
The pure hell that is this existence?!"

Sometimes I really do wonder.
Sometimes I get curious enough to want to ask.
Sometimes I am really glad I can't ask when the moment sparks
because that means opening a whole new door,

Building a whole new bridge again
And DEAR GOD how it hurt growing up and watching the ones
I put so much work into get blown apart, repeatedly set ablaze by the dynamite you set off again and again and I just watched.
Like a child who just had their tower of blocks pushed over
I watched my bridge constantly decimated by fire, as each piece fell into the moat you built around your castle that you built around yourself to continue to waste away like the skeleton King you are
as you whisper your last breath, "You never really loved me."

Now look at you.
King of Nothing.

Who had a skeleton princess who swiped away her father's ashes from the gold laced throne and she took his place.
She dies waiting for her Prince that will never come
because she simply won't let down the draw bridge.

I am only made up
Of all the residue left behind
From every soul who has come and gone.

On the days that I say,
"You are not enough,"
I am truly saying that I
Still have not loved myself
Enough.

I have ink on endless pages
Waiting to be read.
They scream and stretch across the paper,
Peeking out of the edges to find a reader.

I am an open book
Begging to be understood,
Turning library shelves black with ink dripping of despair,
Leaking in a shout that says,
"See me,"
Desperate to be known.

And if all you can manage is to rip
Off a page and fold it in your pocket
For another day then at least I can say I had a chance, even as little as it was,
To maybe stir something inside you.

I said, "go **** yourself,"
But really my soul was trying to say, "go find yourself."

I've always let people close the blinds when I was too bright.

I am like opening the curtains right as the sun is rising,

Lighting up a room,
Filling in every corner.
Giving warmth and
Shining in.

I won't let anyone else stay around
If all they are looking for
is a windowless existence.

Life didn't conspire enough
To bring us together.

It only brought us halfway there.

And as I stare into the distance,
Waving, I whisper,
"Until we meet again."

Passion.
Constantly looking for that outlet.
The lonely plug looking for somewhere to fit.
For some kind of energy to be connected with.

I've tried to explain
That my lungs
No longer inflate.

I don't have enough air
To even try to resuscitate.
I'm on oxygen support now
And you don't even care.

I'm sick of desperately gasping for just one breath of fresh air
Because I have nothing left.
All because I breathed life into someone else.
All because I was sacrificing my health.
Sacrificing myself.

I call you love

But not as an endearment.

I call you love

Because that is what you are.

We are all love

Walking around in a human form;

And one day we will return to love.

There is green in the world again
And it feels as though a sprout has risen from beneath all my turmoil.
I did not realize my seclusion until I felt the warmth today.
I hope with all the new life coming into the world
That it is also time for my life to blossom into something better.

My heart and mind
Need peace and quiet.

Complete silence.
Stillness.

You throw rock after rock
In my pond
And muddy up the water.

All the while
Wondering why you're still not
Seeing clearly.

Sometimes it feels like I am claustrophobic but not because I am in a tiny room with walls caving in
but more like I am suffocating inside my own mind,
and in that predicament,
there is no escape from my own brain.

I still am not entirely sure if free will or fate exists
or
if somehow in this chaoticly ordered universe that they overlap randomly in time.

There is light that keeps shining off me

and I'm dimming out

from the constant darkness you surround me with

just to reassure that you won't go blind.

I drop them in the footsteps I am leaving behind as I walk my path.

The untruths I have carried inside me for so long.

Little to big stones, I press them between my thumb and fore finger,

Feeling the edges and smoothness as they slide through and drop.

I leave the things no longer serving me

And walk towards something better

With lighter step.

I envy the stars and moon
Because everyone admires them.

Humans have a pull
and keep them company.
I must admit I do too,
But
Why am I
Just the wind during the night
You barely recognize?

The world acts like I am the crazy one for loving without restraint.
As if it is some rare currency that they will run out of and they hide and bury it.
Spending it on only those they deem have enough value.

A soul purge so deep

That no one could be there to hold me in it.

A fire so englufing,
that if anyone had tried they'd have just been burned.
I lose control and only love the ones I have hurt.
How does that work?

The surrounding sounds muffle out as my chest caves in.
The kind of silence you endure as your surroundings completely disappear.

All you can feel is your chest pain burning like a thousand suns about to incinerate you alive.

You fight the urge to become a rage-induced animal
Because the pain is unbearable and no one gives a ****
and even if they do they CAN'T do anything about it.

I have to swallow it all and digest it.
I have to fight to not be overcome by it all.

But what do you do when you feel like your soul
is being filleted alive, soul stripped in all directions,
Bare, and ******* raw now..

The shedded lining burnt to a crisp in tatters across the floor around me and the pieces charred flying through the air.

Another phoenix stage of rising through the ashes
But where the **** does the sky take me?

I have been here before.

There is no where to go.

I give up.

I cut off my new wings.

He had those sweet lips that drizzled honey on your tongue,

Sugar coated lies,

Yet they go down smooth

Even though the taste doesn't last long.

Take my heart like a tea bag

And steep it in Apathy.

Drink up the dull emotions

Of the day.

The indifference to it all

Warming your belly.

And that's all that you'll feel for a while before returning to
the empty inside;

Just like your dry barren tea cup.