tired of sending texts
the sentiments resemble
sorry i meant to hit you back
i guess i must have got distracted
lost track of hours
and days
and months
and lost the thought of what you last said
meds or death or coping strats
whatever just to get me back

i’m still stuck in a bad place
but sunlight crests across the skyline
in my mind
tendrils of hope stretch across my sky
the day presented itself in a new way
i think i’ll be okay

“i never meant to hurt you”
her words like a lit cigarette on my wrist
smiling into this crochet mask i knit

“it’s been far too long
since your knuckles bled”
she said with her actions instead

i will ice these bones
while you feel at home

even darkness is asleep beyond my window
everyone but me, **** of the joke
i felt warmth once
and maybe this will feel like that
every word in every poem
inside my mind is growing, swollen
my knuckles glowing white in anticipation
of the credits rolling

the frames sit uneven
on my face
on the wall
on the memories
fist fighting to feel nothing
everything is wrong
from every angle