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EL May 2015
the faces that i carry through the day
i can feel them sitting on top of my skin

like a wax figure,
my empty bravado

it carries me

at night
pain drips
into rage
and i lay awake

sinking into a pit of

i want you to
hold my soul

writhing in your palm
like a newborn

beat, burn, hurt me

until i feel tears wet and hot

and my soul is quiet
EL May 2015
waking me up
over and over again
in restless nights

nobody to look over at.
to see the warmth burning their skin
the same way it’s burning mine

love blossoms in the tree branches
the sweet scent of my childhood
floats through the air
its the flowers that were planted
in my elementary school garden

for a moment i have gone back in time
gone home
to the backyard filled with fireflies
the swing set where i could fly

i see people
between their eyes

i can’t touch this experience

there is no escape for the lonely
the weak or the forgotten
they are
scooped like pumpkins
with faces carved
into crooked smiles
EL May 2015
the hands around my throat
the circles around my eyes
the tired tears
that drip slowly

a hundred hours
spent staring at a wall

a hundred days
spent looking at the ground

tiny moments
where i stare at my hands
wondering when they developed lines

— The End —