Please, love this broken body.

  Because no one else ever could.
    
     Bring me peace and quiet,

        When my ears scream in pain,

                    From the sounds deep inside,

                                      Residing in my broken brain.
      
                            Forgive me and all the things I've done

      Though I will never forgive myself.

         Just take me in my sleep,
  
                                                             ­                  Before I **** myself.

           Hell can't be hotter than the desert sun,

              Nor worse than the image of weeping children,
        
                                         Damaged by my hands.


          Help me, I will never be the same.

Hospital walls get tired
And colors
They become dry
After a while
The memories fade
But sometimes they crash and fall
Like tidal waves
Striking my heart
As if one blow
Wasn’t enough to impede
My hearts beating
Again and again
They hammer
Their words
Down my throat
And a girl can only swallow
So much
Before she breaks

your inky recall
   recoils under
        my skin
   took its toll
    in beastly
        violent shades
black & blue
       darkly drawn
    bad blood
    crimson oozing
       burnt scars
indelibly sunk
       into my psyche
encas'd my heart
      in ice temples
       glass'd apprehension
   left its mark
         upon the soul
marr'd of spiteful apathy
             bane of my existence
retreating behind
   secrets of
        closed doors
            remembrance's

Fed upon your metaphors
        like a zombie's lust for blood
howl'd at the moon in your
            verbose verbiage's alliteration
piece by piece, like Frankenstein's
              monster you conjur'd me whole
  ****** out the guts and laid me
         flat in ghostly passages twisted cravings
  dwelling 'tween light and darkness
         assimilated in your inky draft
   dancing amuck within your tangled webs
       just the other side of nightmare's exposure
drinking in the sea of your heaving tidal steamers
           punch drunk in phantasmal's obsession
high voltage flipped me over like an abstract
               Dali painting's w*e
  I come away ghastly satiated,
              macabre though it may seem
  thrills and spills in every tempting morsel
            of affecting poetry's sinful appetite

I woke up today
and I felt
extremely
out of place.

I looked around
and everything was the same,
leading me to believe
that I was out of my mind.

but I knew I wasn't.

I walked around my home slowly,
fingers gliding across the newly painted walls
and clasping onto frozen metal of door handles,
then drumming against the
darkened mahogany of the kitchen table
trying to figure out
what was missing.

What was missing?

I was there,
so that wasn't missing.

My wallet was there,
so that wasn't missing.

My coat was there,
so that wasn't missing.

My car was outside,
so that wasn't missing.

My keys were by the door,
so that wasn't missing.

I looked again.

Your keys weren't there,
so that was missing.

Your car wasn't there,
so that was missing.

Your coat wasn't there,
so that was missing.

Your wallet wasn't there,
so that was missing.

Ah, yes.
That's right.

You.

It was you.

You were missing.

It's funny, because every morning
I wake up feeling
extremely
out of place.

And every morning, I look around
and see that everything is the same,
leading me to believe
that I'm out of my mind.

And every morning, I tell myself
that I'm not.

But I know I am.

Because every morning, I walk around my home,
looking for you.

Even though I know
that you're what's missing.

Maybe I should just
leave some notes around the house
reminding myself
that you're what's missing.

Better yet, maybe I should just
leave some notes around the house
reminding myself
that you're never coming back.