If loneliness is a memory that tastes like
cigarette smoke and *** soaked ash
I have lived it a thousand times.
If the endless nothingness of being lonely swallows me again and again,
like waves on a beach,
Leaving me to drown again and again-
Leaving me gasping for breath in a moment of mercy.
If loneliness tastes like getting caught in a thunderstorm in an unfamiliar place
And there is no one to comfort you,
Then I have been left in the cold for what feels like an eternity

If my father could see me now
I hope that he would be disappointed in me.
It would be easier than knowing
I can make out a man underneath the smoke,
underneath the mountain of ash left on a burning man’s face.
It would be easier to hold water in my hands than accept
that his love would burn me to ash too

i saw a video on tiktok.
on a father wanting to spend time with his daughter-
something i couldn’t quite remember
the last time i heard the words fall from his mouth without meaning.
i saw my screen through half blurred eyes,
half burned with half shed tears
as he said i love you.
something i couldn’t remember
the last time i heard those words
without filled with a need to rip my skin new.

i hang my head over the cool white surface
gazing at last hours lunch.
my stomach hurts.

i hang my head over the cool white surface, washing away my pain
and remmenants i couldn’t flush away.
my teeth ache.  

i stare at my reflection:
short cropped hair,
almost beautifully defined cheekbones,
red eyes that feel hallowed.
my throat aches.

i turn to the cool white surface,
a colourful mosaic of food i can name
on all of my fingers
and notes from my daily logs.
i ache for the number on the scale
to drop once more.

my eyes burn with unshed tears
as i swallow the lump in my throat,
willing myself not to break down.
all because i heard your name in passing.

it's 3 am again;
and you're still not here.

the first time,
the last time,
i would like to sleep
in your arms again, darling