“goodbye”
the words crawl from your mouth.
they sound like their on their knees,
begging to be let go.
you tell me there isn’t a point anymore,
but i cover my ears
and claim i’m not listening.
the pills you swallowed,
the calls you never answered,
“goodbye,” you croak again.
i answer no,
but goodbye isn’t a question.

peering out of my bedroom window,
i observe the golden autumn leaves
as they tumble through the air.
i watch in awe
as the wind licks them
from the honey coated trees,
and they gracefully settle into the grass.
in this moment of bliss,
i wonder how they are so unafraid to fall.

the sky is a surface of flesh
         with clouds like bruises
                      spread throughout.
             at night, her freckles of stars
form constellations
                       that only
                                  she
                                     ever sees,
for she hides them like silver secrets  
that spike up from tongues unknowingly.
                               she wishes
                                    to be beautiful,
but the clouds cover her body
         and she’s drowning in the rain.

i feel like a puppet
a ventriloquist taking control—
i move hopelessly as their fingers
tangle with the strings,

making me dance,

                                    
                    ­                      dance,

      
           dance.

i inhale the things you say.
the frozen words burn my lungs
as my knees reach the ground.
i’m incredibly tired.
                                        still,
i act as a servant,
a lamb to the slaughter.
but this time,
i, the lamb, know what i’m in for.

despite everything i’ve been told to think,
your words are simply more than sound.