that girl with blue eyes
ice-cold rays of rising flames
how gentle they seemed

those darkened clouds cried
and im a fool
for thinking the tears were real

(Sometimes) I hate you,
But the neediest parts of me still crave
the vague admiration you hid between pages of manipulation and abuse.

I tell myself that I’ve moved on.
I ignore the cold sweats and screams that interrupt my dreams.
I push the thought of you to the bottom left corner of my mind,
Stored with other trauma, like family dinners and math homework.

It takes all the strength left in me
Not to set your castle of comfort ablaze
With the months of lies and exploitation.
How easily I could send it all tumbling with the flick of a finger,
Yet I don’t.
Maybe its because I’m humane and lenient in the ways you never were,
Or maybe its because I’m a coward
Just like you.

your voice traces my lips
and collarbones
whispering empty promises
of endless possibilities

but i savor the taste of it
like bottled love
dripping down my throat
and burning
warm
in the hollow pit of my stomach

that girl with green eyes
hazel rays of rising flames
how gentle they seemed

who decided life is a gift?
whats the return policy?
and no i don't have a receipt.

im sick of people who think life is this
beautiful,
precious
thing
that should be preserved at all costs,
to the point of caring more greatly about someone being alive,
rather than their quality of life

tell me,
what so wonderful about being alive?
or are you biased because of
your life-long conditioned Stockholm syndrome?

we all return to dust eventually,
inevitably,
and that's the only good thing about our whole existence.

it comes to an end.

maybe im just depressed,
but anyone who has a positive outlook
is spewing garbage platitudes.

i imagine what its like to be other people
and cry.
its too much.
all i can do is starve myself
and purge
and obsess over my body
and food.

I wish none of this was real.

simply
being conscious and realizing my existence
is too much.