i feel the need to put
a sharp thing on the surface of my skin
i feel the need to make
every bad decision i can in my life
i want to blow up every bridge
i want to terrify the people who love me
i have been waiting for so long
i have been good for so long
and yet
my heart has given me nothing but misery
my heart is a stupid little girl
throwing tantrums, howling in pain
screaming at people to stay

i cover her in white musk, lily of the valley
there she lies
still, infant-like, and white
her body soft and barely there—
almost a mirage of the senses
she fits the palms of my hands
and i gently cradle her, meeting her at last
whilst covered in crimson blood
i think she had a life
i think she had a breath
i think her heartbeat was
louder than the metropolitan haze—
a homing beacon calling me
a cadence tied tightly to my soul
before she was felled by you
i bury her in white musk, lily of the valley
and finally send her to my father
in hopes for revival, survival
after all, he is the first person
who taught me how to live

i have been drowning
slowly, surely
all the while living
i have never known
the difference
between the two

both make
my heart beat louder
my limbs akimbo
my entire soul
drenched, shivering
in the indigo blue

is it bad,
that i think
being alive
is being in pain?
i no longer know
what is true

life
is brutal, Ama
i can no longer breathe
full breaths.
the ocean of it
is vast, cruel

and the more i stay
in the depths
of the seas
and the cold
the more i long
to see you

come save me
my body is
in the coral reefs
white and still
a child waiting
to be told what to do

i unravel
the words are
so heavy
but the break
has no sound
i unravel
there is a
typhoon
on top of
my head
it hurts
to think
i unravel
i spent the day
quietly
nursing my
wounds
like a scarred
wild dog lost in
the field

there is a field
at the very, very end
i will meet you there
heart still, eyes facing
the wild, wide sky
there will be
a feast waiting
a table set
and there will be
enough for everyone

i have seen the shadows move
i have held hands with
the monster hiding under my bed
i cannot tell you its name,
only that it whispers in my ear
seconds before i sleep

i have heard the moon sigh
i have let its crescent mouth
laugh at my tears as i watch
silver clouds stream lazily
and a sole distant yellow star
blinks once, twice before it leaves

i have touched the velvet hide of the night
it is true, the world sits on the back
of a quick black cat and she runs
across time, never quite catching
the mouse she’s been chasing
for a while or forever

let the dark engulf
the past life i had?
i was thirteen when i saw
my closet held
too many bones
too little clothes
is it kindness
to become
an entirely different
person to protect
the tiny threads
unravelling in my soul?
it is too open, too wild
to be awake right now