My consciousness has been elusive—
Most thoughts are intrusive.
Subconscious stays refusive.
I breathe in and eat up nature,
hoping it’ll be my savior—
Turn all my bad memories into
Distorted visualizations and vapors.

i’d really love to thank her
for being so, so strong.
for not taking our life
when everything was wrong.
i don’t know how she did it,
the flashbacks paralyze me still.
must have been nothing
less than strength of will.
even sometimes now
i’d really like to back out
but i hear that small girl screaming,
“we can’t just give up now!”

Could it be
We
Are the Artificial Intelligence

i already miss flying
high above myself,
unaware of every ****
i should be giving.

i plant flowers in my
wounds instead,
fully aware—I feel them
grow from me
& bloom.

painful, beautiful.

and so powerful.

I used to find power in
deflecting
neglecting
rejecting &
subjecting myself.

healing is hurting.
healing is hurting.

hurt people hurt people.
but healed people heal people.
and maybe sometimes they’re the same person.

is this
what it feels like
to be a fossil
in the making?
to have pebbles,
sand and grit
swept slowly
on top of me.
not to mention
the crushing
and deafening
of miles of water
pressing it all down
to bury me.

but sometimes
sometimes there's
relief and light
when someone
digs through the
weight to reveal
the shadow of the
creature that once
lay there.
but then that husk
is reduced to
cinders in a mountain
of others.
and i guess you could say
that 'power station'
is adulthood.
or life.

I never realized
How easy it could be
To lose yourself-

I stopped taking time for myself,
Gave myself to others,
Piece by piece.

Every time I put the puzzle back together,
Another piece was missing.
Or perhaps stolen.

One day I will no longer exist.