My body spun
From one side of my garage
to the other.

In between the pillars of poles
creating space between the cars
parked in the two car garage

perfect family, right?
not even close

I unlaced my skates
tossing them in a case,
unorganized as my chaotic brain

I leaned down to pick up
a mess of what looked
like plastic

like a broken water container
crushed by the weight
of a basketball tossed without looking

being the good girl I was
I picked up the charred plastic
placing it in my hand to
throw it in the trash

I dropped it in the can
letting the pieces fall
one
by
one.

As I wiped my hands
I found a piece I had forgotten
it had the label of Prego on the side
I realized then
It was a broken spaghetti jar

I ran upstairs
to help with dinner.

I asked my mom
what I could do to
She said
"You can run that blood
under a cold water faucet"

I looked at her confused, saying
"Where am I bleeding?"

She turned my arm over
showing me the cut
glazed over my forearm
I hadn't even felt it

I didn't know
that was the moment
I would find an advantage
to not feeling pain

and an interest
in the impure
realization
that bleeding
wasn't scary...

that it couldn't hurt me
as much as the rest
of my life could.

Summer nights are my favorite...

To be able to sit on a hammock
Or in a rocking chair
Feet bare, shorts barely peering through
The edges of my long tank top
And not have a worry in my mind

On a night like that
Some would have a beer
or wine by their side
But I am a southern girl
So sweet tea will do just fine

As I peer through a screened in porch
I see the sky on fire
Scorching red and orange and pink
As if to emphasize the condition
of the world around me

As I sit there
in the silence of the evening
I feel a slight breeze
Like a gentle smile
Or comforting arms around me
Reminding me there can be
Simplicity
Beauty
Peace

No matter how young I was
Or how old I will be
I will never forget the feeling attached
To the profound subtlety
Of a summer wind

It's the blend of black and white
The collapsing of good and evil
Like parallel universes becoming one
Like the pull of an angel to the dark side
Or of a devil redeemed
Or like two children at play
rolling down opposite sided hills
Until they meet in the middle of a valley
But gray is not just two colors combined
It is a feeling too
Like an uninvited dark cloud
Looming over head
Crowding you in an empty room
Gray can even be a sensation
A feeling of breathlessness
Despite knowing that your lungs work perfectly
It is the color of numbness
Of no personality and "I don't care"
Its the color of not having an appetite
And a lack of social interaction
Gray is the black and white feeling of a panic attack
When the lights start to blend together
But that slowly turn black as you start to disassociate from the world around you
And you only hear your ears ringing and your heart beat

Heart beat...

The one thing that makes us real
The one thing that we all have in common.

BUT we have more than just hearts
We have minds

Minds that make the human race diverse

Gray is the color of diversity
It represents the complete blend of black and white

To think of the world in black and white would be a crime
Not because there is never a right or a wrong
But because when you see the world in gray,
You witness a world of beauty, pain, error
Emotions that don't exist in clean margins

I love the world that I see in gray.

Can you see it too?

If you asked me when I was 5
If I was going to be a girl
Dressed head to toe in black
Driving myself into an abyss of isolation
I would have said you're crazy

But part of me thinks even when I was 5
I would understand why
I would become a boundary pushing
System breaking teen
Waiting on the rest of the world to catch up to me

Tender heart to broken heart
I was wrapped in the charge
of righting the wrongs
and wronging the rights
A perfect storm of opposition

I'm grown up now,
And I wear bright colored shirts
And Let the world take care of its own karma
But I still wear black on my well polished nails.

The truth is, once you're a rebel, you never really aren't one
You just fade into the monotony of life just like everyone else
But you know that when life sparks you

You're right back to a time where the world has done you wrong.

your Shadow splashed
across my wall
Like a real life version
of a monster under my bed

Against a dim lit chasm
your tall and feeble reflection
cast a menacing illustration
Except it wasn't an illusion

Holding my breath
I squeezed my eyes shut

Maybe if I was asleep
you wouldn't do anything

But closing my eyes
could've been dumb
Cause the only way to defend yourself
is to see what's coming, right?

I was 15 and caught in a choice
between acting like a child
or acting like an adult

My mind sensed the close proximity
as your weight made a dent in the bed beside me
My heart raced for answers
Of what you might do

But you would never hurt me

right?

although the air was completely still
my body quivers
as if a small wind were stimulating my nerve endings

I lay silently as I process the events of my past
grabbing me into a hole of darkness
where all my innocence was lost
and all my purity taken

as if it were occurring now
you were near me again
so real I start to push your phantom hands
off my legs as I kick the sheets to the edge of the bed

I toss and turn as my body rebels
again and again against the actions
that never should have taken place
but did...

your eyes piercing gray
and your breath hot on my neck
you watch me as you lean in to kiss me goodnight
the only thing missing was the smell of alcohol
staggered under the musty smell
of your unbrushed teeth of the day

as if every moment that had taken place
was occurring at once
I leap up from bed
attempting to silence
the screams in my head
screams I never screamed when I should have....

I dip my toes
Into the shore of the abyss
A rush of cold
As you greet my pink painted feet

I become bold as you draw me outward
Knees, hips, chest, head
My legs become non-existent, weightless
The power of your waves crash over me
One by one

Under, over, intensely still
I run as fast as I can
But am slowed by your hold
Sand becomes puddy
As it grasps at my feet

I stay out with you as long as I can
Until Mother says I have to come wash up
I float on my stomach
Allowing soley you to push me to shore
This is a large effort for you
As your body recoils like the fading sun.

I shed a tear of salty sea water as I leave you behind
But with a whisper you remind me
You’ll be right here
Watching over me and waiting
For my return in the morning.

Whether we realize it or not
We all use disguises.
We hide parts of ourselves
In fear
Or in scheme
We play tricks on people
Fooling them into believing
This part of us exists
Or doesn't
But the difference
Isn't that some people do it
And others don't

It's the question
Of whether or not
Any of us experience sadness
Of toying with peoples emotions
But some people are raised differently

Some are taught to keep their hearts
Close to their sleeve
While others are taught
That the imperfections of humanity
Are better left unseen on them.
Some people stand out
Unafraid to bear their soul that represents
Pain and Love and Bravery
While others masquerade themselves
Like spray paint on a brick wall
Of the intercity.

Neither one is right or wrong
It's just a personal choice
Some people choose not to blend
While others are terrified not to

11.22.18 - 2.22.19

This week marks
three months gone
of thousands of months
I plan to live

The day I gave myself
to the comfort of my True Father
instead of to the discomfort
Of a Blade.

I now ignore that sense of lust
for the sight of my own blood
the addiction I found
in spreading lies across my arms

I've given up the sense of calm
I found in watching my skin heal again
Reminding me that I was utterly human
yet somehow invincible

Except I wasn't...

Every time I glided a tool across my arms
or my thighs
or my stomach

I was shoveling myself
into a deeper hole
And while I was at the bottom
Someone was at the top
Filling it in,
not knowing that someone...
That I was inside of it.

As I cried tears of hurt
With the person who cared,
Someone handed me down a ladder.

But I had to choose to climb out
I had to decide if I wanted to stay in darkness
Or release myself to the light...
not the bad light that you see as you die
but the good light you see when you discover
that you are noticed and you are loved

Because isn't that why this whole thing started
Because I felt invisible
Because I was not just one of many
but I was the last of many

Self harm is a trap
That wraps you up in the cold
But you never get fully warmed
Because you're always losing blood.

I'm three months separated
From the act of self-hatred
But I'm always just three steps away
From being right there again.

Strength. Determination. Love. Self Love.
Those are the things that keep me in check.
Mother, Brothers, Friends, Students
Those are the people that keep me safe
And warm... the real warm
Not the fake warm that comes from being wrapped up
In a nice thick blanket.
But the real warm
That could make your heart swell
Even when you're alone.

I listen closely
as the sovereign wind pulls me
towards a need for significance

as my eyes follow the pattern
of the trees
watching the leaves slowly fall

I long for the restoration
of the morning sun
to strip away the darkness
of a cloudy night

A cloudy night that seems
to remain present
no matter what time of day

As I pick one foot up
placing it in front of the other
I walk the tedious line
of unconscious awareness

knowing that something is there
but not knowing what

like a flower petal whose weight
is too delicate to safely hold
my thoughts linger

just loud enough to let me know
they're there
and just quiet enough
to hide their meaning

as if filled with brittle bones
my body aches in restless disparity
for answers I may never receive

But... just as the wind blows gently
I will wait...

I was once a girl
Who played with her toys
I was once a girl who played
Baseball with boys

I was once a girl
who got ripped to shreds
so many times
I would one day need meds

I was once a girl
Small and fragile
slapped and grabbed
so I learned to be agile

I was once a girl
who let her guard down
So now I am the girl
who always has a frown

I was once a girl
happy and thin

But now I'm the girl
who always wonders

What could have been

Draw them with lines
Color them in
Listen to a story
Or write your own

Like individual squares
Of fabrics
Experiences come together
to create a masterpiece

one whole.

My quilt is incomplete
Memories file in
Few
and Far between.

Patches missing
from lines of patterns
Waiting for me
To sew them on

These patches come slow
But like thieves in the night
Candor uncensored
Pain disregarded

Broken frame
And baby bottle
a frantic cry
before a tottle

Flashes of memories
Pass like headlights
across blinds seeping in
But only in pieces

Fleeting
Yet strangely hanging in the air
My own life
Like a mystery novel

I wish someone could solve me
For myself
It's my job alone though
I just don't have the right tools yet.

Being abandoned is not the same
As being alone
You can be in a room of a thousand people
and feel more lonely than you would
on an island by yourself.
Being alone is a physical act
Abandonment is the feeling of utter aloneness
When you know the people beside you
But also know they have no interest in you
Not the fake you that pretends everything is okay
But the real you
The one that wants to scream
"Sick, in pain, helpless, unhappy!"
When someone cordially passes and asks how you are
So many minds think that people have abandonment issues
when a father neglects to come home
or a mother leaves her children with the nanny
But people don't realize that so many times
True abandonment comes from houses that sit on hill tops
And go to dinner parties
And have barbecues for their children's teammates
But then forget to tuck them into bed
Because they're drinking
Or working
Or both
"I'm good how are you?"
Offers the little girl inside a 30 year old
Who still feels that loneliness
Despite being in a room of people
Where she know's she supposed to feel love

Because that feeling of abandonment stay with you
Whether you're 15 or 50,
No matter how many people love you
It's so hard to forget the one that doesn't.

You are brilliant
In the purist form
Incredible
You imitate
You evaluate carefully
You watch
With you calculating eyes

Pure black pupils
Surrounded by the beauty
Of blue-green irises.
Your charm as cunning
As a cobra
But only those
Who live with your eyes
Know how it truly feels
To be a victim of them

They seem to strip away
Every defense I thought I had
How is it fair
That you can see straight through me
When you get to wear a mask
And disguise yourself
From the rest of the world?

But be careful to not
Wear your non-existent heart on your sleeve
Because I know exactly who you are

It was one thing
To see the back of your head
When I was toddling around
As a wee young tike
Because my little legs couldn't keep up  

But now I'm older
And I still watch the back of your head
Because you don't care to talk to me
You're a man on a mission
And I'm quiet enough
I'm certain you would almost forget I existed
Despite the fact that I'm your own daughter

How long would it take you
To notice I was gone,
if I tripped and fell
But couldn't cry out
Would you look back,
Or would you carry on?

I've learned to hate the back of your head
With that tuft of hair leading
To the bald spot in the center
Leading the way
Like a man should

But a man
Is supposed to protect his little girl
And care to know she's okay.
But you don't,
So I walk behind silently...

Sometimes it's hard
to find comfort in physicality
when the idea of physicality
has been abused since you were young

you're wrapped in the arms
of the person you love
but you feel like you still
don't exist in the same world as everyone else

it's okay, just act normal
you tell yourself
so he doesn't think you have
too many problems.

when you've been silent
for so many years
you forget that you're allowed
to speak up for yourself.

When you find your voice
you'll release a hold over your body

The hold that won't allow you
to fall into the arms of your significant other
with full abandon of fear
But until that day occurs

Keep trying...
Be honest...
and most importantly
live and love as openly as you can.

When I was 14, i began
to lose myself
it took awhile for me
to completely disappear
but eventually I did

I don't really know
when I started to search for me

Like a roller coaster
I found and lost myself
over and over again
It was like my mind was playing a game

Testing me on just how much
I wanted to find myself

As I searched
I found loopholes
Beginning to understand
That even those closest to me
Believed I was okay
If i didn't show my true self

So in secret, I found a dark side
The only part of me
At the time,
That made any sense

It was so easy to get stuck in that place

after a year, i wanted
To be pulled out from this world
I wanted to feel like I was normal
But I wasn't

And I don't know if I ever will be
But I keep trying

I still haven't found me
I feel like i'm in there
but I don't know how
to pursue normalcy just yet

But I keep trying

and one day I'll be able to say...


I found me

Memories of you and me
Play in my head like a movie

People always blame a woman
For not leaving a bad relationship

"Can't you see what he's doing" they ask

"Yes of course I do, but it's more complicated than that!"

I get touched and I fight back and I raise my arms
in defense and push you away and run away.

"If he's hurting you, why don't you just leave?"

That's a brilliant question,
one I ask myself every night
as I curl into the smallest ball I can

Attempting to protect myself
from any exposure I may have
on my body

"Why don't I leave?"

It would seem like a simple decision

Just leave.

But being with you is like being in a room of darkness

And I keep running into cabinets and broken glass
that bruise and cut my body
Then someone turns the lights on,
And I realize that I'm in an empty room
One with a door just twenty feet from where I'm standing

So I run toward that simple door but then,
******* IT! You turn the lights off again
And you put your arms around me
As if you love me

So I hold my breath and I count to five
As I wait for you to release me
From you ever present grip,
Whether it's physical or not

So I scratch and slap at my body
Trying to relieve it
From the clinging feeling of disgust
that your "love and affection" haunts me with
Years after experiencing it

WHY DON'T YOU LEARN???

WHY DON'T YOU CARE???

Why does your internal understanding
of personal respect not exist?

These are questions that neither you nor I
Will ever be able to answer

So they linger...
Like a balloon

With it's string attached to my finger
as I walk away from you

Alarm clock, you ****!
I get angry and strike
the top of your head
as if you were a misbehaved child
and I was your grandmother
One, two, one more to go
I have to sleep more
Before I give you the time of day

Covers crinkled, stretching my toes
I roll my head to see my dresser.
It's not the clothes I need from inside it,
but rather the meds that lie on top of it.
Unscrew, pop, swallow, smile and nod
as I look at my reflection in the mirror
"Today is going to be a good day."

Smart and quick
You stole something from me so quietly
I wouldn't even notice it was gone
Until much later in life

Pain follows me because of you
Flashbacks creep in at inconvenient moments
Because of your talents

Yet you sit in your house like a prince
As the town honors you with awards and praise
But it's okay...

Because I get awards too.
I get awards for living, surviving,
breathing another breath
These are the standards that I get to live by

You are prideful, living and judging
On a success scale of one to ten

My question to you is this...
How many points do you give yourself
For stealing a young girl's innocence?

How do we leave a legacy?

At what age do we begin to create our destiny?

Do we start creating it the day we take our first breaths

or does is bloom over time, like a strong flower

overcoming a harsh winter?

Is legacy made by one man alone?

Or is it made by those of many who rally around each other?

Should we diverge from our paths to implement victory for others?

Or do we walk a singular path, making sure we are safe?

God may have the thorough and true plan masked,

But if you look close, each piece of truth

comes together like a puzzle.

We can't choose fate,

but we can choose our legacy!

I am not human

I am a doll

On one side of a coin
I was loved
By my owner

On the flip side
I was cut open
Like an experiment

Instead of being fixed
By having new fluff put in
And sewn back up kindly

I was left exposed
For years on end
With cold scalpels and loose change
Inserted into my stomach and legs

Out of the corner of my eye
I watched my owner
As he laughed

Enjoying the pain
He so maliciously inflicted

Once you're cut open
You're never perfectly whole again
You're buttons are always slightly off
Your stitched skin always has gaps

I am a human

I am not a doll

I have the choice to change my destiny
But I only have so much power

Such a scarred psyche
Paralyzes my steps
Of rehabilitation

For years, I've taken my own needle
Stitching myself from side to side
Without bactine to ward off infection
Without anesthetic to numb the pain

When people let you down
You begin to rely on yourself
for everything you shouldn't have to

I'm tired

So I've given the needle to someone else

To you who have been given a needle

Kindly stitch me together again

Like a rusted razor,

subtle words still cut.

The problem is, there's a greater chance for infection.

You can't just point to your cut and say,

"I got this from a nice clean blade,"

Instead

It comes from the truth that there were multiple cuts and

different days where it would heal and scab

but would then be picked open, or cut over, like you didn't

remember that it ever existed.

And just like the subtle manipulation of the man

who supposedly loved me,

he slowly changed my skin from alabaster and smooth

to darkened and rough.

There's a sensation
That surrounds my body
Like a mist
Looming in the air

It's an intelligence
That I struggle to understand
Disguised
As nothing more
Then mental insanity

Have you ever had butterflies
Like a knot
Fluttering around in your stomach?

Imagine walking around with that...
The constant feeling
That something bad is going to happen
Or already has happened.

Everyone says they wish
They could have a sixth sense
Something to provide them with clarity

I wish I didn't have one.

In response to “Torso of Air” by Ocean Voung

Scary, yet somehow tender
Black absorbs all light
Dark is comforting
To the person who is truly night
Herself
Bright. Light. Hurts.
Yet, it draws her
Light creates her shadow
But the reflection of her shape
Is not that of her body
But of the soul she had forgotten she had
As she looks closer
Connecting with the light
She knows
It’s waiting for her return
Because she, who is darkness
Is also light.

The moon’s light covers the long distance
Between my heart and yours
As bright a light as the prospect
Of burning our hearts together
Broken, then mended, now broken again

Tormenting passion causing friction
Broken plate, broken vase
Broken as the coffee table
Our bodies crashed into
The night passion took over our limbs
It’s ironic that the same passion that put us together
Tore us apart

We’re on two opposing sides of the moon
Just like we were on most matters
It’s devastating to begin breathing misery
When that miserable air used to be lovely
You ruined a part of my life
So please just stay
On the other side of the moon

We lie in bed quietly
Entangled in a sheet of heaviness
I roll over to greet you and ask
“Why do you have to leave today?”

Our meeting dates back to many years ago
When both of our lives were simple
And at ease
As we continued to chase happiness
The same way we chased lightening bugs

Glances from across the room
The connection of our hearts
Beating as loudly as the stereo
In my ’95 Camaro

Our teen years past quickly
Yet painstakingly slow
I went off to college
You went off to war
But we came back to find one another
“I love you”
“I love you too”
We said one night
As sunset melted into stars

We lie in bed quietly
Entangled in a sheet of heaviness
I roll over to greet you and ask
“Why do you have to leave today?”

I haven't written a poem
In a solid five months
I haven't sat down
to hear verses in my head
or feel a pen glide
across a piece of paper

My heart has been altered
My journey has been changed
The path not taken
Is the path that I am on

Intuition keeps me
From taking the wrong turn
When there's a fork in the road
Asking me to decide which path to take

Why have I not been able to write?
Sit down and write in the summer heat...
School, my job, my future
Tugging at my back reminding me
to be practical

Writing is creativity
Like the wine of Italy
Or the sand of the beach
It lives in me, waiting 'til I return

It may wonder where I've been
But it never doubts that I'll return

"Sugar and cream?"
"Yes, please" I reply to myself.
Wall paper, space heater, small round table.
There's a lot you can notice
When you're sitting by yourself

I wear a large yellow hat
so I blend in with the sun
Hoping it'll hide that I have no company

See, I don't mind being alone
As long as no one else notices

As I walk down a dim light path
Street lights shine on me
As if I'm the main star
In some slap stick comedy
about my own life.

The streets are filled with laughter
But is it laughter?
Perhaps I'm crazy...
Perhaps it's just the crickets
Chanting their song
As I pass by with a solemn step

I hear the drum roll of anticipation
As if the world were just waiting
For my next misstep
But then again
It could just be a skateboard
Rolling underneath an adolescent
Whose mind could not comprehend mine

Gravel crunches under my feet
Like the sound of someone
Taking an icepick to my skull
Trying to scrape out the inside
Of my fractured yet insightful mind.

But as I walk around in the dark
Hoping not to trip on an unexpected twig
I contemplate the rationale
Of my self absorbed thoughts

Because why in the world
Would nature care about me
And why would the lights of a street
Want to shine a light on my life

Unless it was to cast a shadow...

Her focus is beautiful
Her radiant light shining
beyond the spine of the book
her nose is buried in

With a cup of chai
and highlighter in hand
she blocks the noise
of the crowds around

She appreciates the warmth
of a bought cup of tea
but doesn't recognize the warmth
her simple smile brings to me.

As she looks up for a split second
her eyes connect with mine
So blue I can feel the chill of the arctic
rush through my unsuspecting veins

The pink of her scarf
Against the pink of her cheeks
Her pink framed glasses
Beckoning the beauty of her
Freshly rested face.

She is Beautiful.

But she has no idea just how much!

When you hold me in your arms
It's like living in suspended animation
The feeling of my heaviness
Floating away
Like an unanchored boat
Chartering towards tomorrow.
Not a care in the world

As I feel the interlocking of your hand and mine
I embrace the sensation
The connection between us
Your body heat warming my skin
Like hot chocolate on a winter's day.

My anxiety of a day's work
Collapsing in your kindness
I embrace you
Your arms...
Your eyes...
Your lips...
As if in this moment
They existed just for us
A feeling, a connection
Only experiential
Between one you
And one me

An energy transfer
Designed in the universe
Just for our two souls

It's a peculiar thing...
Fire

It can represent many of heart's emotions
Rage, passion, survival, heat
Embers turned to flame
with just one ignited match

Fire can also be completely diminished
Embers grow cold
Or the rain comes
In an attempt to squelch
The last flames of a fire burning lowly

Some fires are dangerous
Spreading uncontrollably
like a wildfire amongst innocent trees
merely bystanders in an unlucky trick of fate

Some trees are barely ten feet
when they're forcibly engulfed
In a ring of fire.

Such a shame is the day
When you realize that fire
has burned you forever

You may not have died,
but you always live with those scars.

As I slowly opened my eyes
I saw a single ray of light
Bursting into my intentionally darkened room

As I turned to greet the day
I breathed in deeply
Letting my exhale
Penetrate the silent space

As I lay on my pillow
I saw a flutter of wings
Dance across my bed post
As if a Butterfly was waving

In a way she knew only I would see.

Two brothers, two different worlds
One comes home, one flies a million miles
Beyond our scope of understanding,
One safe, one at risk
Yet both in eminent danger

Two conflicting feelings
Blending and conspiring
Tearing my mind apart
With love and hate
Fear and trust
Insanity and reality

The current circumstances
Adding to the proclivity
of an already cautious heart
That this heart can not trust

But I trust my body, and I trust myself

Self: our greatest savior, if you choose so
Self: our worst enemy, if you allow it to be

to my future love:

If you buy a dozen roses
Include every color

Two roses should be WHITE
one to keep me pure of heart
one to return my innocence of mind

Two should be RED
one to remind me of the courage I've used
one to anticipate the passion of my future

One should be PINK
to determine my elegance
amongst a world of chaos

One should be CORAL
to designate my desire
be destined towards you

Two should be YELLOW
the color of friendship
One for the best friends
I presume we'll be
One for the joy
you'll see in my smile

One should be ORANGE
deemed to be the color of pride
Only one given
As a reminder to have pride
but to never be proud

Two should be PEACH
One to emphasize the sincerity of my heart
And one to remind me
That modesty is key

And one should be pure LAVENDER
to represent royalty
A rose to prove
I am the queen of your heart.

So a dozen roses isn't just flowers
It's a symbol to prove how well you know me

So pick wisely

No matter what generation you come from
There is a cruelness of men and women
Not all men and not all women
But some to many of both

In a search for connection
I showed him my art
Drawings of dreams
And of nightmares

The vulnerability of imperfect lines
Of raw pain mixed into streaked charcoal
Page after page I flipped
Through my inner most thoughts

I watched his eyes
As he scanned each design
He turned toward me
Looking in my eyes
And gently says...

"You should stick to poetry"

You are one man
Human
Your blood runs like mine
Your heart beats normally
Despite the fact it doesn't work at all

You have ten fingers and ten toes
Your one pair of eyes
placed perfectly on the sides
of your sunken in face.

As I relive the things you've done
You are more than one man
And your blood runs as cold as the arctic

Both of our hearts
beating too fast for either one of us to catch

But our hearts beat for different reasons entirely...

yours with the relished feeling of power and control

mine with the anticipation of entrapment and fear

Reliving trauma, everything multiplies.
You have 50 hands
One for each time
You assaulted me with them.
Your eyes multiply
Like spiders in the dark
Your face morphing
As if it was being drawn out by a dementor

I try and remind myself
that you are JUST ONE.
You have the same amount of strength
as someone who loves me.

We are both broken, like pieces of a smashed vase
The relieving thing is,
I can superglue myself back together
But you will always stay broken.

Like an animal,

Your instincts are self-serving

You want to eat, you find your prey and ****

No regard for the prey itself,

as long as you get fed,

to hell with the one you had to ****

It ***** to be the one who is killed...