sharp teeth stained
dripping with disdain
blood from my brain
hubris soaked in shame
I am my own glass ceiling
being weighed down
with stones of good intentions

Staring
at the empty word document on my screen
Waiting
for a jolt of poetic words that can express
everything inside of me I've been avoiding
But I'm coming up with nothing
empty hands
empty mind
empty heart
I feel censored in my art  
and I don't know how to remove the static

Perceiving and being
are two very different things
And I never know from which view you're seeing
I'm still trying to figure it all out
I don't feel like there's any direction I'm facing
it's making me feel dizzy
and a little ******* crazy
Losing grip; dreaming
where I only see silhouettes
that resemble memories  
Some that I recognize
and others that I don't
Like cigarette stained walls
that I can't scrub clean, it lingers
There's evidence of you existing everywhere
in my habits, in the weather
Today it feels like a boulder on my chest
and other days, like a feather

paisley prints and ripped tights
early mornings and late nights
small pockets of the world
that feel like they partly belong to me
from how often I'm frequenting,
arriving, and even after departing
I've got the muscle memory
but there's some streets
I'll never go down again
unless I'm transported against my will
with a sharp scent that rushes nostalgia
and transports me back to the trauma
or just the melancholy
of a time in life I'll never get back
time has fallen off it's tracks
and I'm somewhere in the middle of the crash
between the beginning and the end
sometimes I feel like I'm playing pretend
looking at myself from the outside in

Been working so hard
at keeping my vulnerability from escaping
I can feel my resistance pitching tents in my chest
sighing, "we're not doing this again"
Because it still doesn't feel safe
there's canyons of heartache in my memories
that I wish I could fill with cement
still writing so many poems of lament
and it just doesn't feel fair
I'm a lover girl turned ice cold
once had passion that burned
so hot it could make you blister
The girl who loved bravely--I miss her
And maybe I'm just not as naive
back then all I did was believe
falling in love was always so easy
there was no way you'd hurt me
And maybe I just miss the naivety
required to fall in love so easily
Heartache feels like pollution on my psyche
that never brings climate change
I'm tired of this ice age

Layer after layer
I'm scraping away at you
I've got blankets of my good intentions
soaked in paint remover
Every day I lay them over
your thick coats of shame and fear
that suffocates all your thoughts
that you continuously refuse to share
They've eventually gotta go some place...
but where?
They get buried under your growing resentment
that's coated over all your shame
which then floats in insecurities
that always have someone else to blame
And arguing, for you, is like a sport
that you'll do anything to win
I can't ever find a way out of this
when there's not even a way in
I keep running away
but only in circles
that lead right back to you
cause I'm not ready to choose
I'm not ready to lose
so I'll grab another blanket
and soak it