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Jun 2020 · 119
Selfless Love
Corra Hayre Jun 2020
She tore her ribs apart so you could
reach her heart and you called her selfish
for destroying herself to allow someone else
the ability to be filled with love by loving.
But what’s selfish about giving someone
the thing that she was deprived of,
because she knows how it feels to be without it?
Because she cared for you so deeply
that she didn’t want you to feel like that.
She is not selfish.
She is just someone with a soul so sad
she needs to fill the emptiness with love.
And darling,
there is nothing more selfless than that.
May 2020 · 124
In the Night
Corra Hayre May 2020
Maybe the night is associated with fear
because it thrives on vulnerability.
Because when the sky is dark
and the world is silent,
everyone wraps their blankets around
themselves to hide their fear,
they crawl further under the sheets to
ease their shivering.
I know the night makes me
feel vulnerable.
Every aspect of its being
constricts me in its cold embrace,
growing tighter with each poisoned
memory.
The smell of the blazing fire and the liquor
in the icy midnight air.
Each stars' glow only momentarily visible
behind the heavy and pounding rain.
The moon running behind the clouds as
the sky turns black from the absence of
its light.
The night is deadly and cold, so cold.
My lips are turning blue and my fingers
are shaking because the night sky is
getting exactly what it wants.
Don't you see? It thrives off of fear, it gains
power with the uneasiness it brings.
Monsters do not lurk in the night.
The night is the monster.
And it's killing me.
May 2020 · 266
Toxic
Corra Hayre May 2020
You were moon-drunk, speaking words
only uttered under the stars
because even you yourself feared
what left your swollen tongue.
You feared yourself more than I did
and that scared you.
But it scared me more knowing
that it would happen again, knowing
that your shadow would grow darker
every night until your star-sipped liquor
turned your fear into another monster
in the night; one that this time,
I couldn't run away from.
Apr 2020 · 141
People are Kerosene
Corra Hayre Apr 2020
There is healing and breaking
and at this point,
I’m not sure which one I am
the walls have been falling down
for quite some time now.

I’ve come to look at other people
as kerosene
turning my flickering flame
into a whole house fire

I wish I could burn this hearth
to the ground
and ignore the tugging and
snapping in my chest

I wonder if you would understand
how my organs are punctured
how I kiss bones rather than lips
because I don’t want soft
I want fragile
breakable

(snap)

This pain,
this anguish never
belonged to me
there’s another soul inside
of me
swallowing me whole.
— cmh

— The End —