tonight, my heart is foundering
but i can't let you see me floundering
because god forbid i show weakness
or ever be any kind of vulnerable
so i isolate myself in silence
and try to become more artful
in the lies i tell to convince you i'm fine
while i try to drown my sorrows in whiskey or wine
and numb all this pain whose source i can't fathom
all the while holding out hope that i might become
someone who is worth it
all this

this fighting and struggling just to make it one more day
this going from doing just fine to aggressively not okay
without warning or reason or trigger
and i know the root cause must be something bigger
than just the **** in my head, but somehow i can't figure
out what it is that causes me
to be like this, i just can't seem to see
what it is that this hole in my heart needs
what would make me feel complete and stop this bleed
of emotions and tears and words onto tear-stained pages
while i write down what has become my lament for ages

why
the ****
am i like this

i can't fight this feeling anymore
you've pushed me down so hard, so low
never thought that in my life i would come to know
a pain so real it makes your whole entire life feel cold

you've been telling me
in ways roundabout or directly
that i'm not good enough
and that you're confident i never will be
but you still won't let me go

it's like you get some sick thrill
out of my suffering and pain
as if you live to further break my will
and tell me lies about who i am
but are they lies? i used to know
now i fear you might be right and i might be ******
useless, a husk, too old
not smart or capable enough to keep this going

so you're finally going to get what it seems like you want
i'm giving up, giving in, going down
no swinging, no whimper or bang
just a quiet, emotional suicide because i've found
as far as you're concerned, my only worth is in you
and if that's true
i'm not going to risk feeling this anymore

your fingertips across my skin
the palm trees swaying in the wind
memories

you told me you would never lie
the sweetest sadness in your eyes
you never did

i truly want to see you happy
and i know you want the same for me

but it's hard when all i want is
your hand holding mine
and to hear you whisper softly
i love you and i'm glad you're mine
and it's getting harder these days
to pretend i'm over you
should have known you'd bring me heartache
boys like you always do

we walked along a crowded street
i took your arm and you smoked with me
memories

and when i left you held me tight
and said that you would never ever forget
our many nights

i truly want to see you happy
and i know you want the same for me

but it's hard when all i want is
your body entwined in mine
and to hear you whisper softly
my darling i'm so glad you're mine
and it's getting harder these days
to pretend that i'm just fine
should have known you'd bring me heartache
boys like you always do

i cannot walk by the beachfront
i cannot smoke beneath the moon
i've abandoned so many records
because your ghost still haunts their tunes
so now you're gone and i'm broken
and i bet you are just fine

i wish i knew a way to live
without you by my side

but it's hard when all i want is
your arms around me tight
and to tell you just this once that
i love you and i'm glad you're mine
and it's getting harder these days
to live life without you
should have known you'd bring me heartache
boys like you always do

"I slept with you to see if I would feel something,
because I wanted to,
and I didn't."

twenty-two syllables
and eighteen words
that was all it took for you to enter the annals
of all of the *******
who have used and abused my deeply wounded heart
further compounding the damage that has been there from the start

how am i meant to get closure from that
when there's no reason, or in fact,
any black box to recover
or mistake from which to learn
all that there is is a breaker
of hearts and worse of trust given, not earned

the conclusion, therefore, is to simply give up
and stop wasting my time looking for love
because, truth be told, my worry is
should this happen again
i'll be unable to mend

and left to live out the rest of my days
stuck with permanent overlays
of mistrust and suspicion
of any romantic intention
because ******* you knew
you knew, full well, that i loved you

i've never been so grateful
to lack the courage to be honest
than when we spoke at long last
and you revealed you'd been deceitful

to find out that to you
i was purely an experiment
to see if you would feel something
when i was in it for the sentiment
and loved you without reservation
unaware of your motivation
was like a reinforcement, yet again
that all my struggles are in vain
and that i'll wind up, in the end,
trying to excise my feelings
and my shattered heart to mend

but if these things you say are true
and it's pointless for me to go on wanting you
when you don't want me, too,
why is it that every time
your blood-alcohol balance is tipped
you seem to find me sublime
more than merely a pasttime
and, time after time,
into my arms - my bed - you've slipped

because i know you know the phrase
in a dead language, nevertheless
if "in vino veritas"
then maybe you need to reassess

or maybe that old saying
contains less truth than i had hoped
and now that your words have stopped ricocheting
like a bullet cavernating in my ribcage
it would appear that i haven't coped
and how could i after that level of stun
but now that the damage is done
those wounds should eventually fade
evaporate off my skin
like dew in the face of the rising sun

you and i
we hate cliches
just another thing we have in common
another amongst the many, niche
shared interests that broaden
the connection
between us two

i fancy myself a writer
you used to teach english
so both of us cringe when hearing advice
like "love is blind" given to someone in relationship anguish
and that's why it pains me to be the inciter
asking for communication so precise
having to risk looking foolish
or even losing you completely
as i look in your eyes and say to you
"so... what are we?"

but as much as it pains me
uttering a phrase so trite
what would pain me moreso
would undoubtedly be suffering through another night
of trying to suss out what's going on in your head
or falling asleep alone, again, and thinking that i would be better off dead
set against the notion of losing sleep
over a heart that simply is not mine to keep
so i take a breath and i steel my nerves
to summon the courage to ask for the love i deserve

seventy days of ambiguity
with just enough put forth to confuse me
as to the nature of your intentions
so fleeting your shows of affection
and so vague your reactions to my own
that it left me no better off
even after i let you read that first poem
trying to figure out if i had a chance with you or not
might as well have been trying to read a long dead language without the benefit of a rosetta stone
and surprising absolutely no one
the result is that i am once again on my own
the victim of an opportunist who saw
that my heart's capacity for love is my fatal flaw
and chose to exploit it with no thought or regard
to how it might effect me, how it might raise my guard
because trusting does not come easy to me
and vulnerability scares me more than anything
so for you to just use and abuse me
has caused more damage to my heart than just a sting
and i will recover, of that i am sure
but you, to me, you will always be
it is this simple and pure
nothing more than another one who hurt me
and someday, maybe, you'll be able to see
exactly what it was you did to me
and render something more than some half-assed apology
but i won't hold my breath
because i have a feeling i'd be waiting til long after my death

i keep trying to write about you
and so far all these poems have turned out terrible
i can't begin to fathom why
because the way you make me feel
should be providing me with great material
but no matter how i try
i just can't seem to find the right words
so i'm left staring at a blank page
frustration in my veins
just wishing i had the courage
to tell you how i feel

how i'm... addicted to the way you laugh
at all my jokes, even the terrible ones
how your eyes remind me of aquamarine some days
and the storm-tossed sea on others
but they always take my breath away
how your opinions mean so much to me
i'd change the universe for you if i could
because i think that highly of you
and hope someday, maybe, i'll be worthy of your notice

i don't know what it is about you
but you've brightened my worst days
and eased my heaviest burdens
just
by being
you

i hope that someday
i can do the same for you
because people like you are few
and far between
and life has taught me to appreciate
the qualities in you i've seen

you are my greatest weakness
at this moment in time and space
but i think there's a chance that if you just take my hand
you might become my greatest strength

i don't know if you see me that way
- you're, like, the one person i can't read -
but even if friends is all we're ever destined to be
i promise, i'm going to stay
you're worth so much more to me
than just a potential romantic fantasy
and that's what makes you so amazing
it's the fact that you're gazing
out at the same ocean that i am
underneath the same sky
because, for some reason,
you were meant
to be in
my life

a few simple words
ones that i have heard time and time again
but even still, i feel
like i've just been
force fed
shattered glass
its jagged edges
like mountain's ridges
tearing the back of my throat into ribbons
making my screams
into running streams
of crimson and carmine
except i'm not screaming out loud
because outbursts of emotion are not allowed
so i scream in the confines
of my own tortured mind
until i drown out everything else
until i am beyond help
until the only thing left behind
is the long, low-pitched kine
of an animal in pain
and i am living it again
because no matter how much i train
ptsd is still invasive
and my memories are still pervasive
it's just that they're usually dormant
not giving rise to this caliber of torment
when my own mind holds the .45
how the hell am i supposed to stay alive?

it has been in vain
all my efforts come to naught
because no matter how much i struggle
all it does is tighten the knot     in the noose that is looped 'round my neck
and further my development into this train wreck     of a person
who can barely manage
to get up and fake it through one more day
when all she wants is to sit down and say
i am done
i give up
i am clearly not enough
     i couldn't cut it
i didn't make it
i never thought it would be this tough
but failure has never been something that i handled well
and these events are to me nothing more than a bell
tone that signals the end of the death knell
that will sound for me at the end of my struggle

because no one will ever be as ******* me as i am
or as cruel as the thoughts in my own head
and as anxiety swarms, planning its next attack
i am still trying to recover from its first blow
the one that hit me like an all-star fullback
falling just short of a true death blow
because ending my misery is not in the nature
of the cruelest mental illness whose nomenclature
does not do justice to all its wicked wiles
nor explains truly how twisted and vile
it is to have the voices in your own head turn against you
and seek to break you down
no matter what you do

life is a constant state of entropy
but the erosion i experience turns me to misanthropy
purely for the sake of self-preservation
but i find myself suffering damnation
at the hands of my own emotions
because regardless of my notions
of protecting myself and refusing to feel
i find my brain asleep at the wheel
while my heart runs rampant
forcing me to be a participant
in yet another heartbreak

you and i both know this is a trap
and the pit's bottom is not shallow
we'll fall for what will seem like ages
controlled not by marionette strings
but by pre-written script, like players on stages
and when the curtain falls and we depart to the wings
a hand will turn the tear-soaked pages
leaving you unscathed, as per usual
while i die inside
and try my best to hide
my true feelings behind a fragile smile

it was so easy
falling back to our old habits
i dismissed your concerns so breezily
telling myself my heart was like granite
but even granite can crumble
given enough weathering, under pressure insatiate
and can wear away and leave behind
nothing more than a love consigned
to that fate worse than any pain a mortal has known
love unrequited, pain untouched by even methadone
because when the unrequited love was true
the lover knows they will die alone

there's a war inside my body
between my head and my heart
and with no end in sight
it threatens to tear me apart
because my heart says stay
love
endure
and hope
but my heart says cut
run
disconnect
and protect what is left of your heart

because being with you is a paradox
both endless bliss and torture
at once contentment and devastation
somehow heartache and perfect love
because my heart is a place you will always have a home
but i am cursed to be forever alone
a drifter
a bookbinder fixing broken hearts, rather than broken spines
somehow able to repair everyone
even the most devastated soul

everyone

except

myself

i am supposed to be letting go
moving on, getting over you, and so
tell me how it is that once again
i found myself this morning
rolling over when a phone alarm went off and then
realizing it was your alarm not mine
and that your duvet and sheets were the only things adorning
our bare-skinned bodies as we lay together
and that warmth on my back was your fingers tracing down my spine
while you pulled me closer to you and snoozed your alarm after briefly debating whether
you were ready to get up or needed a few more moments
of just us, bodies entwined
the lightest of touches received as encouragements
serving to once and over again spellbind
in the soft morning light drifting in your windows
as we once again play the parts of slaves to our libidos
choosing to stubbornly ignore our established credos
in favor of experiencing the lows and crescendos
that inevitably follow any amount of time spent with each other's favorite ******
because i am yours and you are mine
and it's gotten to the point that we really shouldn't bother to deny
that this is not some passing thing
and what we had - have - isn't just a fling
but i guess you need time to get your head straight
to sort out exactly what it is that you feel, perhaps
so i will try to be patient and not remonstrate
but it's hard when i'm the one still in love
just waiting, wishing, hoping that maybe you will relapse

if i didn't care
this whole thing would be easy
i'd be cool, detached, and distant
and we could so easily be coexistent

if i didn't care
trying to talk about my feelings
wouldn't leave me nauseated
and losing you wouldn't have felt like a limb being amputated

if i didn't care
i wouldn't keep trying so hard to make my heart colder
only to find myself once again crying in your arms, on your shoulder

if i didn't care
i wouldn't look at you like i still do
letting you see it in my eyes
how much i still love you

if i didn't care
this whole thing would be easy
if i didn't care
but i do

razor edges
soft layers part
carnelian blooms
a sigh of relief

because this time it is a pain of my own doing

the knife bites in
and tears burn behind tightly shut lids
as my life drips down my wrist
and the numbness recedes again

when i cut the back of my wrists
i was afraid to die
now
i cut the insides
because i

want

to die

you,
you were going to break my heart
and me?
i was definitely going to let you
i think i knew it from the start
but somehow that never stopped me
from falling for you hook, line, and sinker
letting you in past all my defenses
and then on that cold april morning
you spoke those words
free of all pretenses
but fully aware of the consequences

it broke our hearts in unison
your decision to jettison
what it was we'd found
this love beyond all comparison
and it was together that we mourned the loss of love on your part
and my inability to let go, to move on and let my heart be unadorned

i know in my heart you were it for me
i am never going to love again, not really
and now i have to learn to live with this pain
like an amputee learns to live with their phantom limb

i thought i already knew how it felt
to cope with depression when you're in love
but it turns out that what i had before wasn't really love
or at least he didn't know how to love me like you do
because
this time
things are different

the slightest shift in my mood
and you can feel it in the air
and you are reaching for me
making sure that i am okay
and me
so used to being pushed away
and told i'll be okay
i don't know what to do
but fall for you, just a little harder

when i break down and you're there to lift me up
to stick the broken pieces back together
never complaining when you cut yourself on a jagged edge
i find myself at a loss for words
to tell you how much it means to have you patiently reassemble me
and so when words fail i reach into chords
simple progressions and notes
that twine together into something beautiful
all this in the hopes
that somehow i can show you
what you've come to mean to me

it's the smell of old spice aftershave on my face in the morning
because you kissed me before you left for work
the feel of soft, worn-in flannel sheets under my bare skin
because i woke up in your bed today instead of my empty one
the gentle scratch of five o' clock shadow on my cheek when you hold me close to you
the green in your eyes when you smile at me
the lingering way you run your fingers down my bared back
raising goosebumps down my spine

and then the dopamine kicks in
and i think i'm addicted
to everything about the way that you're not like anyone else
and you look at me like i'm not, either

i wanted it to be you.
*******, i really did.

but i knew all along that you were too good for me
so to a life of forever friendship i resigned myself wistfully
watching the way you stared at her with lustful eyes
not wanting just her body, i have come to realize
but all of her - soul, mind, body, and heart
to claim for your own each and every part
of the amazing girl who has stolen your affections
and left me sitting broken, feeling in need of a resurrection
but not even voodoo could bring this zombie back to life
because in my heart i know she's the one who's bound to be your wife

*******, i wanted it to be you.
but true to form and just like all the others, you fail to want me, too.

you told me
"she bares her soul to me
like she's getting undressed"
and it took all of my self control
to keep my gut response repressed
because i know you
but i also know girls like her
and even though i know you would not concur...
she
is going
to **** you

not in the sense that a murderer kills their victim
taking a life like they are entitled
but in the sense that your heart and soul will need the post mortem
because her selfishness is unbridled

she has already wounded you
so deeply i'm amazed you've recovered
but still you defend her and insist to me
that you know truths about her i haven't yet discovered
so i hold my tongue and reserve my judgement
hoping and praying this young thing isn't keeping her true self dormant
hidden away from your eyes in the hopes
that you will buy her embodiment
of the manic pixie dream girl trope

and you've bought it - her act
fallen hook, line, and sinker
and i can't say a word
for fear of your anger incurred
so i sit by silently, plaster a smile on my face
and worry quietly
that it's not going to be pretty, your love's fate

there is no way i could have predicted
how life taking me away from you would leave me afflicted
i lie here in my bed and press my form against a "body" pillow - a cruel facsimile
because in truth i would give anything to have my cheek pressed to your chest
resting
blissfully

it gives new gravity to those words we know so well
"and i can't make it on my own
because my heart is in ohio"
because i have left europe behind but i seem to be missing a piece of myself
and i feel its absence like shrapnel

my dearest friend, what can i do?
because i am stuck here, and i am without you
so i rewatch our shows and listen to our songs and read your poetry
but it's still a hollow feeling, as though settling for a forgery
because finding a soul like yours, one who knows me so well, so effortlessly
is comparable to finding a fallen star earthbound
and you wield your empathy and intuition so guilelessly
that letting you in and letting you know me was easy and honestly left me spellbound
because even when i tried to shut you out, you persisted
no matter how stubbornly i resisted
you were gentle and steadfast
and i came to rely on that

so here without you, i am bereft
emotionally destroyed at this theft
of my platonic soul mate from my side
but i will persist holding on to this:
the knowledge that come hell, high water, or the zombie apocalypse
i will see you again

it never fails to blow my mind, how two years can change you
it's inevitable, i have come to find, but that doesn't mean that you grew
sometimes change is a negative thing
pushing you backwards, negating progress made
oftentimes even unearthing
aspects of yourself better left decayed
outweighed by the better qualities possessed

in two years, i have become someone of whom i cannot be proud
no matter how desperately i wish to look in the mirror and view myself without self-loathing
circumstances surrounding me and my own brain chemistry result in my being unallowed
to see myself without thinking in terms that are scathing
so i hang a shroud over the mirrors in my house that's not a home
let smoke do the rest of the disguising
and wander through the interior of my mind, a veritable catacomb
looking inward, introspecting, and overall despising
myself on every level for being who and where I am

and somehow the hardest part is recognizing
that i have no one but myself to blame for feeling no one understands
because my demons, they make letting people in agonizing
by constantly reminding me of how well that went for me last time
but if i don't try again and extend that trust
how will i ever know anything but this endless alienation
and i run the risk of letting my emotions rust

so i'll try to lower my walls for you and hope that i don't wind up regretting
this emotional oration
and hopefully the good will wind up offsetting
any consequences of the negative variety
and you won't consider my openness and impropriety
though i know you won't, because you're an expert at expressing
how it is you're feeling and whatever you're thinking
- even if you're not through processing
and i envy
that
about you

i find myself at a loss
when i try to explain the nature of executive dysfunction
because there's no simple way to explain how i can't bring myself to cross
the small space between my bed and my desk to get a drink of water because my brain is in a state of malfunction

it's not about laziness, nor procrastination
it's not won't, but rather can't and a feeling of self-damnation
because my depression turns me into this abomination
with a predisposition to uselessness and declination
filling me with a constant dread and worry that anyone around me is subject to contamination
that somehow what is wrong with me will either result in infecting them or leading them into ruination
much like how that bleak hallucination of a malformed machination pushed me steadily down this road whose culmination and fruition can only be
my
end

but in one aspect i am fortunate because i don't believe in predestination
so odds are that i can still change this outcome
refuse to give in to my executive dysfunction's attempts at *******
and maybe, just maybe, overcome

some days you wake up and the noise in your head
is so loud and so violent it cannot be ignored
a cacophony of voices and memories and thoughts all fighting to be heard as soon as you set foot out of bed
and no matter what you do, there's no way that the noise can be restrained, not even if you tried tying it down to a spineboard
so you push the noise to the back of your mind because it's tuesday and you have to go to work
but still you find yourself half-dressed and lost in your own mind
until you pull yourself out of your reverie with a ****
because holy hell, it's already seven fifteen and you're about to be late

again


so you make it to work and the torture ensues
of small talk and forcing a smile
all the while reaching out to that one person who understands, telling them that your brain is like a subdermal bruise today
where you can't see it but you can feel it
you are constantly aware of it
and you don't know what to do
and that's when you remember the only coping tool that's left to you
to simply
drown
the noise
out

so you slip in your headphones and you put on that song
- you know the one,
that always silences every voice and sound in your head,
replacing them with lyrics so familiar they're warm like rays of the sun -
and slowly, slowly dissipates that thunderhead
the brewing storm of chaos in your mind
and in its wake it leaves behind
nothing, except maybe peace and a melody line

if i told you i was striving to remember who i was
you might suspect that i had amnesia in retrograde
but the truth is much more dire than that, because
depression has this uncanny ability to degrade
your sense of self, and the effect is magnified over time
so if you were young when first you were afflicted
you're much more likely to have trouble sifting
through your memories and deciphering with success
who you were before this mess
of mental illness made it so that you couldn't recall if you even had a personality prior
or if depression is and always has been your only identifier

in retrospect "you broke my heart, you *******" may not have been the best conversation opener
but at that point it was just truth spilling out of me, like blood after the executioner
has done his job and my suffering has ended
even though we both know it hasn't and might not
and these wounds can't just be mended

i remind myself over and over
that, as a good friend, i should be happy that you've found your happiness
but it's hard when that disconnect between my brain and my heart still results in viewing you with love
even though we've both acknowledged my "unworthiness"

i remember the feeling
the pounding of my heart in my ears
the way you set me reeling
when you told me why you were pushing me aside, reinforcing all of my fears
that i was unwanted and would never be wanted
that i would never be loved or desired
and by these feelings i continue to be haunted

and now that you appear to have finished
ripping my heart into pieces
it pains me to confess that my feelings don't appear to have diminished
but i continue to hold out hope that this ******* eventually ceases

because i cannot continue to live like this
struggling to reclaim the pieces of my soul you've taken
hoping that some day my heart and soul will reawaken
because right now i'm not sure i'll ever love anyone again
at least not like i used to

not like i loved you

because words have power and they can cut so deeply
that no amount of gauze or direct pressure, no tourniquet can staunch the bleeding
so i smile and hope it hides the pain in my eyes
think "ow, my feelings"
and say aloud "i'm fine" because i've gotten so used to telling "socially acceptable" lies

i knew it from the first time i heard you say her name
that it was going to be curtains for us and whatever we had going on
i could tell it was a new dawn
it was something in your inflection
that sparked in me recognition and reflection
on the times in the past i had found myself erased
displaced
passed over - again - for whatever reason
as transient in others' lives as the changing of the seasons
because i am only kept around as long as i am needed
and when someone better enters the picture my usefulness is exceeded
so i fade into the background like a wallflower should
somehow feeling empty and misunderstood
because like everyone else i just long to be loved
but time and again i find myself shoved aside, passed over, rejected
trying to hold out hope that in the end i won't find myself neglected
but my track record thus far, it speaks for itself in my solitude
so i resign myself to a life at the longitude and latitude of loneliness and feelings unrequited
and tell myself that living this way isn't that bad, for inspiration is by emotional misery highlighted
so i channel the pain into my art, my poetry, my songs
and i just keep looking, hoping i'll eventually find someone who makes me feel like i belong
someone who won't pass me over because i'm not, perhaps, the feminine ideal, a struggle that's been lifelong
and it's not that i don't consider myself beautiful
but i know my beauty is unconventional
and you've expressed that it's not your cup of tea
(and i hope the wounding of my self esteem, feelings, and pride was unintentional)
but in the end i think i'd rather be someone's shot of whiskey
anyway

apodyopsis was definitely a factor
in what drew me to you in the first place
but more than just physical attractors
were what held my interest because you are anything but commonplace

it may be cliché to say
but you make me weak in the knees
and now that a few people know
(and have started to tease)
the mere mention of your name results in a decidedly crimson glow
creeping up my neck to my face and ears
so no matter how subtle i wish to be, it is painfully clear

that i've got it bad
i'm carrying a torch
i'm sweet on you
there's really no point
in trying to deny it
and this time, to my surprise,
it sounds like
maybe
you're sweet on me too

it's not unusual -
me dealing with this
thoughts of ending my life have become commonplace
an almost comforting constant in an otherwise ever-changing living space

i am in a constant state of flux
between okay
and not
and right now i am decidedly not

as i sit here and let the tears fall off my nose and wonder if this improvised prose conveys how deeply hurting my soul is
because right now i am just wondering
if the remaining sleeping pills on my bedside table are enough
for me to go to sleep and not have to wake back up
because that is where i am left
not wanting to do this anymore
feeling completely and utterly bereft

and i try so hard not to let people's words effect me
but it's hard when they harp on my failures repeatedly
and remind me of all the times and the ways i fall short
because they're judge, jury, and prosecutor in this court
never letting up or letting go
reminding me that i am useless and will never be enough and so
here we are and here i find myself again
where suicidal ideation is my only friend

i am in awe when i look at you
not at your flame and your feathers
but rather the way you choose to sever the tethers
people tried to use to bind you to the idea of who they thought you were
and rather than get caught up in their perceptions
you chose instead to rise from the ashes of those misconceptions
alight and alive with new purpose
without a trace or shadow of what you left behind
the old you was incinerated, turned to ashes in the fire of your passions
as you recreated yourself
a man of ambition
whose intelligence and tenacity
veracity
burn so bright you can't even look right at him

you remade yourself into who you wanted to be
did the thing that so many others strive and fail to
and somehow it's like you forget how far you've come
because the man i'm talking to, he has no idea how to be kind to himself
how to silence the voices within him that lie
and tell him that he is not enough, doesn't do enough, will never be enough

remember whenever those whispers start up
that say you're a loser, a disgrace, not enough
that when i look at you i am truly inspired
by the events in your past that i know have transpired
leading up to this transformation that begs the comparison
between you, my friend, and a mythical bird
both reborn from a ghost of who you were
into a fiery beacon of hope, inspiration
remember that it was all you and your ambition that led to this recreation

those words moved across my skin with a familiarity i could not (at first) pin down but i knew that i knew them so well
and you in your infinite wisdom and kindness
being wholly unafflicted with our generation's pervasive emotional purblindness
you realized the words had struck a chord within me
and that brought out in you your innate sensitivity

my silent tears were soaking into your t-shirt when your phone screen illuminated my face
so you attempted to get a read on my emotional state and headspace
but i reassured you because it was the furthest thing from your fault

it was just that that song had dredged up some feelings
that i had long since forgot
memories of a time and a place and a boy
that had caused me more pain than they'd ever brought me joy

you gave me a chance to talk if i wanted
and when i passed it up you just changed the subject
and held me a little bit closer
hugged me a little bit tighter
and didn't say a word

because you didn't need to
as we laid there in the dark and sang
our harmonies tangling
hanging in the still night air
until at last i fell asleep, still safely held in your arms
the last thing in my head the sound of us singing all my favorite songs

i still don't know how to feel
about what happened that night
but i know i will never forget
the way it felt to have you by my side
your warm skin beneath my fingertips
the feeling of your hand's grip on my hip
having you hold me so close to you
(your breath in my hair
your fingers brushing my neck
your arms wrapped around me like you were afraid if you let go -
even a little -
i would disappear)

i remember running my nails lightly over your skin
for what seemed like hours but was probably mere minutes
and your gentle touch as you caressed my back lightly, fingers beneath my t-shirt, raising goosebumps on my bare skin
i remember brushing my hand over your cheek and feeling that weekend stubble
resting my hand on your neck, on your shoulder
and feeling you reach for my chin
you tipped my face up to yours like you were going to kiss me
and then (just like that) the moment was over

it was like we woke up from a dream
and we realized where we were
who we were
and what had almost happened
what our body's autopilot modes had almost made us do
and you fled and burned down a few cigarettes
no doubt trying to process and make sense of your feelings
while i laid in your bed feeling colder and confused
two feelings that have yet to wane in me

i know that you don't love me
and i doubt that you ever will
but you need to figure out what you want from me
before this goes sideways irreparably

sometimes i spit these words in anger
like a fighter spitting blood and broken teeth
and they flicker like the flame of my lighter
when i indulge in the vice that's slowly killing me
but tonight my words fall softer
like the way the blood drips off the fingers of a slit wrist
my emotions and tears bleeding out of me beyond my control
while i try to act unbothered that i know that i'm not missed
even as i sit here with tears clogging my throat
and pain clawing in my lungs
from the times i've screamed
"someone,

please,

tell me why...

why i'm always the one who's left alone
and i'm always the one unwanted
why i am always there for everyone
but perpetually alone when i'm hurting
why i try so hard and come so close but they tell me "sorry, kiddo, close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades" and i know that because for ****'s sake i'm not stupid but i still have hope and i was hoping
maybe
this time
it would be different"

... but it's never different, is it?
just the same **** on a different day
and as i drag myself through the mud and barbed wire of the obstacle course of social interaction
i put on the mask that will serve as a detraction, a distraction from what lies beneath

there are two voices in my head
one is soothing and low and warm across my skin
and one is like a sudden bloom of thorns in my chest
poking holes in my lungs so i gasp for each breath
i try to only listen to the soothing voice
who tells me i am wise even though i am young
and eventually i'll make the right choice
but the voice like thorns is assertive and loud
and she doesn't let herself be drowned out

she tells me i'm worthless
i'm fat
stupid
unloveable
annoying

i'll never be as pretty as her
no one wants someone who looks like me
who's been tainted by ****
who is broken and incomplete

and she is LYING and i know she is lying
but she
is a VERY
good
liar

so i believe her
and her insidious lies
and i stare longingly at the razor sharp knives in my kitchen drawer and i updated my suicide note for the umpteenth time because this time like all times i am filled with sick, twisted hope

maybe
this time
i'll do it

maybe
this time
i won't get caught

maybe
this time
i will finally die
in peace

because my existence is this weird paradox
where i don't want to die
but to live is almost worse
it's so much work
it takes so much effort
just to get out of bed and survive
i can't even fathom what it would be like to thrive

before you even began to deliver
your unprepared and not thought through speech
i already felt my mind begin to wander
because history is wont to itself repeat
it's not the first time i've heard
"nothing's going to change, i promise"
and the words have started to ring hollow
but there's no sense in holding on to the past
even if it's a good indicator of what's to follow

but i never expected you would use your gift
for crafting words to express your feelings
to preemptively, arrogantly, confidently assume
that i had assigned to our friendship (and my interest in you)
such deep meaning

after the fact such words would have seemed
poignant and heartfelt and sweet
but being that it was anticipatory
it portrays nothing but conceit

because just who exactly do you think you are
and who or what gives you the right
to operate as though you know me
and assume the outcome of this was airtight?

and as much as the words you wrote did ring true
i'm not sure i can ever bring myself to forgive you

and while i bear you no ill will
and write these words without a trace of outrage
rest assured that on that night
what was wrought was deep and immutable change

coffee and cigarettes
my daily analgesic
something to numb the pain
and get me through the day

but it's so much more than that or this
because with each sip or nicotine-laced hit
i am enveloped by waves of nostalgia
and taken back to better days
before depression hit me like a freight train and afflicted me with mental paraplegia

these two simple man-made things
remind me of so many good times in my life
like listening to jimmy eat world with my sister
or a morning ritual held in esteem with my "wife"
a late night relaxation on a back porch with family
or a distraction for me from the business end of a knife

for my turbulent soul
so often in need of soothing
nothing is more peaceful than the smooth roll
of paper-wrapped tobacco between my fingers
and the bittersweet taste of coffee lingering smoothly
as caffeine and nicotine
mix in my bloodstream
and i am finally home

i will never understand
what it is that drives man
to make some of the poorest choices
like having deep talks when sleep deprived
or listening to unreliable sources
and to say i've never dived
deep into misguided
conversation at inopportune time
well, that would be a lie
but at least i try
to be a bit more conscientious

... i wish you would, too

empathy
it's funny
something so necessary
for me to be
good at my job
can cause me so much pain

when you're an empath
so deeply connected
to those who you love
by virtue of your intuition
there are aspects that are
godly
a gift
a treasure

music drenches your senses
visual beauties are wild bliss
a sunset ocean is jewel-drenched ecstasy

but
there is a dark side
because we don't only feel the good
we feel it all
- sometimes too much

heartache, heartbreak, to us
it's like a visceral wound
something that causes a loved one pain
it leeches into you
with such voracious toxicity
like chemicals into groundwater
tension, conflict, and stress are like poison
straight down to the cells

so be careful what you wish for
because when it's out of your control
it gets real

love is like the smell of fresh-baked bread
and the crackling of the crust when it's torn
like cat fur drenched in sunlight
like fireflies in a starlit sky with the taste of wild strawberries **** and lingering on your tongue
the smell of a summer campfire
the crackle of fall leaves
it is everything

but heartbreak
is a wide, visceral, somatic wound
it is the veteran's phantom pains in a lost limb
it is walking into an invisible spiderweb
it is the sound of broken bones grinding together
waking up during surgery, suddenly able to feel everything
all the seconds leading up to a car crash, and then that terrible impact
seeing it coming
and not being able
to do
a **** thing
about it

The grey skies
Of a city not my own
But where I feel at home
Reminding me of you

I breathe in
And let the smoke burn in my lungs
Reminding me that I need to give it up :
This bad habit - these bad habits

Somebody once said
"you really ****** me up -
this time for good -
even though you didn't mean to"
And I feel like that's what happened to us
Because I don't think I'll ever
Love anyone again
At least not like I used to -
not like I loved you

I go out
And I'm alone, but in a crowd
Surrounded by the sounds
Of the city I call home
The neon
and nightlife in this place -
Raleigh's warm embrace -
is helping me move on

But there's a reason somebody once said
"you really ****** me up -
this time for good -
even though you didn't mean to"
And I feel like that's what happened to us
Because I don't think I'll ever
Love anyone again
At least not like I used to.


Not like I loved you.

my brain is a shooting range
where synapses and neurons
fire downrange
resulting in all these tear-soaked pages
where i chronicle
in great detail
the pain of my human condition

maybe that's angsty and over dramatic
i feel like that's one of my bad habits
but i try not to lie
(especially to myself)
and i don't want to glamorize
(that's good for no one's mental health)
so i slit the wrists of my emotions
and bleed out words and thoughts and notions
in the desperate hope that maybe
- just maybe -
someone out there who reads this will understand me

because my experiences are mine and mine alone
but that doesn't mean no one else has ever known
the way i feel and my innermost thoughts
and maybe even captured those feelings in snapshots
in the same way that i go about
putting pen to paper to chronicle this fallout

and there is something so magical about those connections
and knowing you're not alone, even in endless dimensions
so thank you, my darling, my friend,
for sharing your soul with me
and showing me how to truly live free
of the fetters and chains of societal expectations
so i can strive to be my best self and shrug off their predilections

when introspection goes wrong:
i thought too much and now i'm sad
should be the name of my autobiography
though there will be nothing but your name in the bibliography
as i tell my life's story interspersed with your wisdom
and hope that sharing your thoughts might help others as a mechanism
to living their best life and knowing
the difference between someone holding them back and someone promoting
them reevaluating the weight they give society's expectations
and instead taking that energy and devoting
it to self improvement and things that matter connoting
that they should be their own priority
something i could stand to learn from you
or at least take to heart when you tell me yet again

i guess
if i'm being honest
my "tired" looks an awful lot like
depression
if you hold it up to the light

and i suppose if truth be told
my "insomnia" looks more like
introspection turned anxiety
from late night over-thinking

and honestly, it's not that i'm "not feeling well"
it's that my executive dysfunction is getting bad
and that means it's hard for me to even function
on the most basic level that there is
and as much as it scares me to tell you all this
i promised i would always be honest
so here's the truth

i am just a ****** up girl
standing in front of a ****** up guy
asking him to hold her hand and tell her it will be okay
because
for some reason
i believe you when you say it

i love the feeling of
stumbling across something
i didn't know i was looking for
like listening to spotify and hearing that one song
or finding out the word "alexithymia" exists

"alexithymia"
the inability to experience, express, or describe
an emotional response
if you want the psychiatrist's definition
to me
it is simply
the inability
to put my feelings into words

and even if i did, the crippling fear that they wouldn't be heard
or if they were, but by the wrong person
and then what might they think?
seeing my words here in indelible ink
presuming that perhaps now
somehow
they know me?

no
you don't know me any more than
jon snow knows what's going on in westeros
you could no sooner describe me
than a dog could describe a rainbow
i am foreign to you - alien, weird
and as i sit here
i am paralyzed by fear

because what if i've lost the words?
the one constant in my life
my unerring ability to write
about the world around me and process it on paper
but now i sit and stare at a blank page
while trying to cling to thoughts that are like fleeting vapors

what if
what if
what if...
what if i lost the words?

i am weak - weaker still than i want to admit - and terrified to show it
i am too jealous, and almost always awkward
i talk entirely too much
i am basically always afraid
and i shy away from painful truths like a horse from a snake
i am deeply, deeply flawed

the irony is
i tell you your flaws are why i like you
that they are what make you, you
and that is one hundred percent true
and yet here i sit
unable to forgive myself a single flaw
harping on myself for the smallest social faux pas
for not being completely open and honest with someone
for comparing myself to someone i aspire to be
falling short
and hating myself for it

god.

why am i
such a hypocrite?

i won't survive you

your touch sets me on fire
your laugh raises my sun
your voice is the clear bell tone that dispels the dark clouds that hover round my head
you dry my tears and speak to my soul and impart your wisdom
and, even if it's just for a second, you feel like home

but i lack the courage to tell you how i  feel
to explain that you have my unconditional love and understanding
that you have my love and are
the dearest to my heart
and i need you in my life
and i want you by my side

so i don't think i'll survive you
and i fear that this might be
a heartbreak
that i can't fake my way through

that first burn of nicotine-laced smoke hits my lungs
like a punch from a heavyweight fighter
i knew i should have told him no
but he offered me one and i reached for the lighter
human beings are addicted
to all the things that **** us
and if they're things that can **** us faster
hell, i think we'd call that a plus
i know i have more vices than virtues
ironic, when my dad is a pastor
but cigarettes are one thing i won't give up
because then i'll have to find a new vice to be my master
it's easy for me to get addicted
easy to form a bad habit
but it's all just a mask for my pain
because at the end of the day, if you map it
out from end to end there's this talent i have
for numbing myself
elegantly self-harming
when in reality all i'm doing is guarding
trying my hardest not to feel
anything that's real
because i'm not sure i could survive getting hurt again
so i dull the pain with the industrial-grade novocaine
of whiskey and cigarettes and sad songs on my guitar
because i know that this is never going to go any farther than where we already are
so sing with me
in sweet harmony
and **** me softly with your smile
as i fall to pieces inside and hide it
behind a beguiling smile

i knew i was in trouble
when i caught myself delivering a soliloquy
on the way your mouth moves all crooked when you smile
and the freckles on your nose

i knew i was in trouble
when your fingers just barely brushed mine
and that jolt of electricity raced up my arm
like your fingers were a live wire i bumped

i knew i was in trouble
when you started to show me pieces of your soul
through your music
your poetry
your stories
your history

i knew i was in trouble
when i realized you didn't break down my walls
you walked through them like they weren't even there
and your soothing voice quieted my tempestuous mind

i knew i was in trouble
when i found myself spending hours listening to you ramble
smiling every time you touched on something that excited you
because you lit up and got so animated
because your thirst for knowledge on those topics cannot be sated
you're like a **** sponge
soaking up knowledge and experiences
and ever growing as a person

i knew i was in love with you
when i showed you who i was
and you accepted me for me

and now I'm just hoping
that

maybe

you love me
too