area of infection is stretching its tongue-like limbs out, a yellow and fleshy door blocking the hallway
so we all arrive at the same time, on the same night with a handful of solutions, then get tired by the next day
to, on occasion, try the same thing for the next two weeks, until we can do nothing but imagine that time before the cancer door did not exist

the words that keep coming to mind are "dead life"

i tried to live a life so many times in the ways I could with everything against me. dissociating and clinging to anything all of my teen years and up until recently. yes it wasn't real or material but there was life there. life that i couldn't reach but life nonetheless that i wanted so bad and kept trying to preserve. but i can't beat the dead horse anymore. the dead horse that is my ideal body, my hope for a comfortable life, my dreams. i havent looked in the mirror and meant it in over half a year. ive done it so many times. thinking that one day it would be how i want it to be. and id dream about it, and make plans that i knew i couldn't see through.

"if you just do stuff and nothing happens, whats it all mean? whats the point?"

i still live a life as everybody else does, but the one life ive wanted more than anything is a dead life

the type of love that gives you lungs in place of a heart that
gives you aches and pains in places you've never thought before
the type of love that we're all tired of talking about
some more than others
the floor is a maze, it's a tricky walk to the door but i
love you
enough to dig these nails right into
my skin, and tear open everything enough to dive six feet into the watery grave of an old wanderer, who's seen more than one could ever want to confess
i am a mess but i
i love you

cut, cut, cut
two weeks and still i have no nerve, it's what I heard
dig a hole for every word, i kept the thirst when i spit dirt
cause it felt good until it hurt, got crushed and ****** until it whirled into the earth
and all your ***** get seen not heard so take it as a risk of birth

my blueish face with a smile on it, for the first time
and if you cant wait, you can grab my waist, make it last this time

in case you bought it, it's happy, gladly,
just cut me up and then put me down please
ill be here waiting like i always am, ****** up inside and outside again
pushed in till it's not seen but felt, dont tell

should i be thinking of you
or savoring this time that you're asleep by doing something less painful for a change
because when you're awake my body works till it aches to occupy sufficient time in your day
so you'll remember me
cause it's all that i can change,
the amount of insignificant praise that i give you
just hoping you won't go away
and i count the hours as it gets late
accounting for everything i can see
praying you don't start another chain of things that don't involve me
cause i can't handle it
i'm so weak
and it's the most mundane things that trigger this anxiety
and so i'm tired
and i'm sorry

and i'll let you rest
cause God knows you need it
much more than me

girl trapped in reclusive isolation aesthetic
reaching towards the feminine thing
to run right through the nerves of my aching
but i taste blood in the water, and the sudden rage i feel is bigger than the drink

why won't you specify
what the **** is the problem
my lungs feel like they're
almost systematically
being pierced
to the point of losing all ambiguity

strategically submerge my brain in endless hours of mindless entertainment
japanese wrestling matches and youtube documentaries about the cruelest of fates

still when i fall asleep, the one and only thing that i will dream about is you

if i had endless time to spend
i would seldom spend it with you
i'd spend most of it thinking about you, and how good it feels
to not be wasting your time
i'd do nothing but talk about you to anyone who would listen, and listen to songs that commemorate
sparse moments where i felt perfectly secure
those moments where i walked out of your home
knowing that i broke nothing you owned,
and felt good about the words that i chose
to so carefully avoid the smallest of cracks
and keep our love intact


because every second spent with you is another chance you might see how worthless i am
and i dread every minute that i am caught
in your perfection

come fire, come water, come rain 

as i push my fingers all across this bridge again
please just know that i have mended this incessant belly ache. bruised up legs, purple and black, tie knots, lash whips upon my frets

keep me alive till the very last second.

through ******, through answers, in vain

moving houses from the smell her only sister permeates, and each one dances, a formation, inside Dymphna's cabaret. looking down every minute at the differences we share

skeletons, never hidden, not by the skin, its shape, out in the open, my bones are for everyone to stare.

taylor swift just pushed poetry's modern day public image even farther back into the 'uncool' zone 😭😭😭

I had a vision this morning, something lucid yet wholly patient, like those small, tight gaps in the aisles of that Mexican mini market. Orange light contrasting with the pale blue morning just near the entrance. Something simple to tie knots with my peach colored dress. Their flesh colored fingers stretched across a bridge of impatient melodies, a million miles away from me, a million miles away from the scent, so familiar and uninspired.

I could have counted for miles, oh how it went
against my own instincts, my own reflection
my father was there, he stood a witness, to my pink, plastic Odyssey
yeah, he stood there in front of me, sitting patiently, watching the words spill from my mouth
And I couldn't have let go of these ugly devices in which I controlled the spaces in every word spoken, days to years, believing that one day, that gap would be closing
And I'd be running to the arms of a drug addled savior, with one hand below my chin, and a pen in the other
Giving thanks to a sad eyed, bronzed skinned lover for the time before I worried her mother, coming home to her empty bedroom
Screaming over the phone to an officer in blue, and me under the covers
I could hear almost every word spilled from her mouth
like marbles, they did
they bludgeoned me half to death

I picked up an old object, reused and repurposed, strength in my fingertips waning, breathing heavily
I dropped to my knees
counting
safe
and easily

that pulsating red line

and that familiar melody would once again return to me, revitalized and
temporary