How much of me do you not need?

Because when I offered you accepted everything willingly.

You stuffed your face with frivolity.

Selfishly gulped down my heart and with it my insecurities.

When you were finished, you gave your compliments to the chef and told me you never wanted any of it.

You put your head on my leg, weighing it down. But weight doesn’t make you stay. Weight doesn’t anchor you to the bay. Weight can keep you afloat, lighter than the water. Heavier than the waves. It can keep you warm during a winters storm. Safe from frigid contrasts. You put your head on my leg, weighing it down.

I cut it off and crawled away

I wish your sincerity would reverberate through me, bounce back and clothe you

Count the stripes on your back, to equal out what your step dad thinks you lack. To make sure you never bleed out from those masses of granulation tissue. Fine lines to define your worth, girl. To feel the flames lick down your back, to wish for death, to only wake up again.

Isiah 53: 3-7 is *******

Genuinely here, one sees this
Beautiful reality everywhere; and then heals

Hum drum of hookups, silique symphony. A long line of history, bad timing and misery. One night stands and two night bands traveling along my hip bones. If you play me right you just might get an encore.

Something comforting about how the gears grinds and clicks. Like you’re in control of what happens next.

My servitude to calorie counting. Small bites and bitter ends. Weighed and tried and found guilty of a chocolate demise?

I’ll share the sunshine with you, even if it’s behind a windowpane.

I started writing but I stopped eating

If I could be on the brink, I’d be on the edge of you. ******* down from the high, height. Steepened with deepened strokes.

Meet me in the middle
Where the threads unwind and whittle
My spine weaves and squiggles
Symphony of sighs
You’re my relief