All of it is my fault
All of it is my doing
If I wasn’t constantly set in the thought that

I’m not worthy

If I wasn’t constantly in a state of fearing
You’d be with me
You’d be mine
Yet instead it’s half past nine
And I’m no longer blind
But I’ve run out of time

The memory of that feeling
is nothing but a phantom
Haunted and eerie
Elusive and weary

Always
Looming and creeping
Always
Leaving me weeping

She is not a project
She is not to be reconstructed
Don’t intrude
Don’t be disruptive
The home she has made within herself has been built with her best interests in mind
One wrong step
And one may end up on a land mine.
There’s a war waged against her but she is certain victory will come every time.
The opposition may believe that
they have an unbreakable spirit  
They may shoot their bullets of infatuation
And slice with their swords of optimism
But this is her territory
where the rivers flow on her command
and she can manipulate the wind
with only a wave of her hand.
Don’t try to perceive or assume.
The terrain is unpredictable
and one may find themselves,
not so formidable.

Yes, I’ve found comfort in the corner
where the shadows are thickest

I thrive in the loneliness of dawn
with my curtains drawn
I feel the most free
when darkness envelopes me

Many of these things that people fear,
have become what I hold most dear

I sleep soundly and weep for none
If there ever is one, I think I’d be undone.

Would I want to step away from my corner?
Could I keep the phantom of whom
I’ve built and found solace
or would I become a foreigner?
Could they love the darkest tones
or would they make me want to
brighten my world and clear all these bones?

What wondrous questions but the most important to be asked is:
Would I allow them in at all?

Anxiety sets in
Confusion triumphs
The mirror says
Sincerity
Authenticity
And
Beauty
Yet
The looking glass that is your eyes
Paint a different picture
Tell a different story
Your perception —
Shouldn’t mean this much to me.
Projection is a cruel tactic
I can’t take the theatrics
No longer will I be subjected to your contorted imagery
You must take a look into a mirror of your own and please I beg you to really see
You can still be loved
With all of your smears and scratches
Without dismantling all that another is
In which you wish
you saw in yourself
I promise you my friend
That is true bliss.

The silence
Deafening
The lack of touch
Excruciating
The air
Thickening

My eyes deceiving me
My feet failing me
My breath leaving me

I need you
My pillar
My strength
My stability

But

You’re nothing but a memory
Your voice is only
a sound that goes bump in the night
And
Your touch impossible.

A crippling realization hits me

When they look into my eyes
How do they not see?
That they are vacant behind?

She told me to keep
Writing
Fighting
Reaching
Reaching for my calling
My purpose
My impact
She made me believe
Oh I’m so ******* deserving
I will surpass expectations
I’m having major revelations
I have just begun
Everything before
Were the steps to access the door
I have turned the handle
I have stepped through the threshold
This is no gamble
But a true proclamation
An undying certainty of self.

Cheap bottles of red,
they seem to be

My

Only

Friend.

Yet another thing I’ve ruined
Another thing I allowed to slip through the cracks of my heart
Another thing she couldn’t sustain
due to her instability
What kind of home is that
Cracks in the foundation and leaks in the roof
It all could come crumbling down
within seconds
I think I would leave too
I can’t blame the previous tenants
for fleeing such a place
Hell if she didn’t reside inside me
If I could rip her out
I wouldn’t leave a ******* trace
I promise I’m doing you a favor
by not offering you to stay.

Why can’t I stop thinking of you?
When I know I don’t even cross that expansive mind nor am I a speckle in those green eyes.
You’re like a disease, a poison.
You came, you conquered and nothing is left besides the remnants of what you left me.
Some old cotton tee.
What the **** does this mean?
I’m not one to remember, reminisce or care.
No. I would never dare.
If that’s the case then how am I so afflicted.
You made one night feel like a lifetime —
How the **** did one encounter from a stranger leave me so contradicted?
It’s pathetic really,
I hate how I’m immortalizing you with these words but I need a release from this secret.
What else can I do?
I’m simply torn in two.