there's nothing more pleasing
than looking at yourself in the mirror
and not crying because of what you see .

what is a mirror
when your eyes are repulsed
by your own reflection?
tiring mental games haunt me daily.
I'm afraid to develop thoughts -
they dig deep trying to penetrate my skull.
they want to swim down into my nerves.
they want to see me hurt
again.
A mismatched pattern of self-hate and envy,
loathing-stained skin.
my hair follicles have the sensual smell of the depression
I thought I overcame last week.
I'm drenched in my own mental hibernation,
and waking up means I might not make it to the next day.
so I sleep.
i sleep hard.
i shower myself with mental gifts and compliments
because i have some hope that I
can win this
battle.

splitting the coconut down the middle
to see what it has to offer.
partition the edges,
clear the debris the storm created,
wipe away the mess I cried,
and i'm still grappling towards the ground.
lonely strings only vibrate when i cannot speak,
and i'd rather dissipate into thin air than
circle the drain,
trying to find the strand of hair
that haunts me in my sleep.
there is a clear reservoir in the horizon
where the animals go to preserve their livelihood,
their essence,
and in the horizon,
there is a place where i go,
to heal,
to hurt,
to surrender
myself to shame.

my own little succubus,
deriding me at every intersection,
every curved point.
following me, my own personal stalker,
my little stain of happiness.
it's my friend, my mate,
my backbone -
who i lean on.
my own pocket of disdain.
my broken clock with a rhythmic tick.
it's my shadow,
peering out of the window
to stare - to ignite the flame.
i trust you.
turn my lights off.
my own sparkle of sunlight,
it's past your bedtime.

feel my breath
on your neck -
misty with an oxidized smile.
don't say no.
i cannot take more opposition
but across the universe,
my breath resonates like an unpitched percussive.
the sound is inaudible
but the sun in my mouth plays loudly
for no one to hear.

finally
after days of dark, threatening clouds
and anxious birds tracing signals into the air
and trees waving back at the lightning
while the thunder rolled around this valley-

finally
it rained

the sun fought against the sky and lost,
instead blazing behind the curtain
and turning the sky a dangerous yellow
while the trees accepted the sepia rain
with defeat

i stayed inside and watched their branches
waving lazily back and forth
as if to escape the rain, or maybe
just to dance beneath it, i don't know
but i knew
i didn't feel like dancing

i felt like dancing
when we were alone in an old building
whose walls echoed the tinny swing music
back at us and whose floors were already printed
with the patterns needed to teach you
the basic formation
and we fell out of place a million times
only to fall back in again

if you were here, i'd take you out
into this rain
and dance until the thunder came back
and celebrate the lightning's wrath
and fall out of formation a million times
only to fall back in again

with you, i always feel like dancing