the paint in the corner of the wall has dried
and become a brittle piece of its former self,
condensing like a melting milkshake
inside a trash bag.

far from the origin, there is a gap that widens
to the tears of every adolescent that has thought
of committing suicide.
and around the corner, the lemon sheds,
souring the moods and the smiles of everyone
who didn't think about harming themselves today.
and there i am, in the shadow of my new self,
coping with the lack of self-loathing -
relearning how to feel something other than hate.
now,
that gap ceases to exist.
depression weeps at all of the giggles
every survivor smiles.
the moon shines bright,
reflecting the pearly whites that are now visible.
the skin has healed. and so has the heart -
but the mind goes through constant withdrawals,
cycling and cycling
till the process is repeated.
but we unite, strong as one,
breathing the same breath -
dreading the next breath.

there's nothing more pleasing
than looking at yourself in the mirror
and not crying because of what you see .

what is a mirror
when your eyes are repulsed
by your own reflection?
tiring mental games haunt me daily.
I'm afraid to develop thoughts -
they dig deep trying to penetrate my skull.
they want to swim down into my nerves.
they want to see me hurt
again.
A mismatched pattern of self-hate and envy,
loathing-stained skin.
my hair follicles have the sensual smell of the depression
I thought I overcame last week.
I'm drenched in my own mental hibernation,
and waking up means I might not make it to the next day.
so I sleep.
i sleep hard.
i shower myself with mental gifts and compliments
because i have some hope that I
can win this
battle.

splitting the coconut down the middle
to see what it has to offer.
partition the edges,
clear the debris the storm created,
wipe away the mess I cried,
and i'm still grappling towards the ground.
lonely strings only vibrate when i cannot speak,
and i'd rather dissipate into thin air than
circle the drain,
trying to find the strand of hair
that haunts me in my sleep.
there is a clear reservoir in the horizon
where the animals go to preserve their livelihood,
their essence,
and in the horizon,
there is a place where i go,
to heal,
to hurt,
to surrender
myself to shame.