as I attempt to find a voice for rage
I can still feel your nails at my throat
stifling my breath with an empty threat
sorrynotsorry, I won't stay in this cage

Between us I hoped
there was a cavern of silence
begging to be touched
by the sound of sorry
falling from your lips

But instead there is a glass wall
devouring rage and hurt
hurled from my throat
While you stand still
A smile on your lips

swallowing honey won't make the glass shards go down easier
honey's still got a sting that sings
when it meets open sores
can't heal when honey drips from my lips
sugar can't make sweet what needs to be blunt

Is healing good for me?
but I'm intricately attached to these scabs and scars
I hold them so dearly, I don't want to let them go.
Is healing my current foe?
but these roots are dead. What will grow instead?
Uncertainty is a fright to me
And maybe the light is too harsh
Cause I love my shadows, from the tip of their nose down to their toes
They've been my constant comfort
Healing light is too blinding
and my vulnerabilities are intricacies only I and my shadows are minding

my healing won't be found
in the hollows of you heart
it won't slide down your cheeks like fake tears
my healing is a light
And you can't take it away

breathing silence into fragments
feeling incomplete perhaps
I should smash what’s left

lines intersecting
and connecting
like a red
thread following
shadows & ghosts
catching footsteps
and deflecting
deeper infection
testing tenacity
and sanity
tiptoeing around
each breath
until the end

got me creeping in between
the weeds
with grass stains on my knees
pulling teeth
from the flower
garden's mouth

I know what I am. I am a familiar to my faults.
I line them up each morning and sound them off at the top of my lungs. I hold them in my arms and rock them back to sleep every night. They cling to me as scars linger on the skin. They burst out during the most inopportune moments; breaking through silence like water through rust.

to you, I am categorically a conquest
a notch to your belt, a benchmark to measure against
to you, I am metaphorically an object
to be played with, to be gazed upon
never seen as whole, never seen as real
only parts and pieces for your pleasure
Sure, I'll dance for you, I'll stand still for you
but you can't make stay in a cage
Sure, I'll *******
but you can't make me love you

These scars are the *******
lace my body wears
They itch and crisscross my skin
These scars lock my feelings in
They wrap so tightly around me
I don’t know if I will breathe again

But let’s be ******* real here.
I did this to myself.

sometimes I miss feeling so deeply
the way it would blossom from my chest
And steal my breath
I feel empty without it
I can't tell if I feel now though not feeling is a bliss
but it's difficult not to miss
feeling so deeply

your honey sweet lips have me on my knees
begging, pleading for another taste
as if it could satiate this addiction