I looked
at my heart
asking it,

how is it possible
that I can love again?

and my heart's
only response
was a beat,

turns out that
all along
I had been breaking
because I was still alive,
my body was fighting
for me,
even when it felt
like I was dying.

I can't seem to
remember
how it felt
to spend
243 endless
days with you,

I guess that's
the best example (metaphor)
of dissociation
during trauma.

woke up
on a decision
that the day is
finally here,

today is the day
I take over this
body of mine,

today I make the decisions,
today I draw the line,
today I live the moment,
today I manifest my
aesthetic into a lifestyle,

today I will act
like the main character
I am in this
story of mine,

and that's that.

Do you ever wonder
if the painter
tires of his colors?

remember that when
your wavering soul
catches fire
for the second
or hundredth
time

when you call on me
once more
misery boiling over
a cascade of every
decision, you
never made

i will not be there
you are alone

You messed up my heart,
and yet when I look at it,
it's such a beautiful mess.

am I the love of your life
or am I one that qualifies
for your love in this life?