I yearn for the
Sweet relief
Of eternal slumber

What do you think of
when you think of
methamphetamine?
Me? I think of..
Well,
I guess,
When I think of ****..
I think of
Pain and suffering,
sickness, illness,
fear, and injury

And the man
In my home every night
Who waits for me
Cooking a healthy
nourishing dinner
That we both will eat
And waiting
To express
His love for me.
I think of
Abuse and hurt
And lies and deceit,
Lies that I retell
to my
friends and family.
I think of
Him and me;
A future that is
lost to robbery.
I think of
Staying or going,
Giving up hope
Never knowing
I think of
Empathy
How hard
This is for him.

Not just me.

I think of
The gentle soul
He possesses
And if his love is
Another lesson.
I think of
Losing,
Losing hope
Love and trust
And the man
I love so much.

Not fully here,
Not fully lost.

Meat that looks delicious
Has your mouth salivating, even.
Thinking of all the different ways
You could prepare it to be served.

Until you realise, that cow
Is not being raised for slaughter.
Then, where is your hunger?
The cow, no longer beautiful,
Just a useless animal

So I lay down once more
It’s 2:10 in the morning
I wish it was the devil calling
And not my mind falling
Into thoughts of you
What you might be doing
When did I become her again
I can’t pin point it
I promised myself
This
Wouldn’t
Happen
And it’s happening
Again

I’m not afraid of death
I’ve met him before
Greeted him in line
At the grocery store
He’s danced with me
Beneath the stars
Sat passenger in
Every one of my cars
He’s slept beside me
Held me so tight
Hearing me pray
To survive the night
He’s laughed at my jokes
Cackled in fact
When the crowd didn’t,
He always laughs back
I’m familiar with death
And with the unknown
He waits for the chance
To welcome me home

Escape rooms with clues, with keys, hidden doors,
Boyfriends with Tinder accounts I’m forced to explore.
I turn to detective, survival my prize,
But each door I open—another disguise.
I’m solving, I’m finding, I’m moving ahead,
But these men keep appearing, like ghosts I once fled.
I never asked in, never chose to survive,
But each one demands more just to feel alive.
“Leave me alone,” I shout, as I push through a door,
But the echoes call back—“you’ll never escape, you *****.”
The next room awaits, floral, honey and sweet,
And at its dark center—another puzzle to beat.

“You can leave,” they tell me, opening the door.
I freeze, asking what I’d be leaving for.
“For better,” they say, “you do not belong.”
I whisper, “tell me then—did I do something wrong?”
“No,” they reply, “but you’re not meant to remain.”
My reflection in the doorway twists into fear and shame.
“Please,” I beg, “I can change, I can learn, I can stay.”
“You’re not made for this place—there is no other way.”
My feet turn to concrete, rooted deep in the ground,
Though the doorway keeps calling, its silence too loud.
“I won’t go,” I insist, “you can’t make me grieve.”
“You shouldn’t be here—that’s reason enough to leave.”
The door gapes open, the unknown staring back,
I shrink in the corner, afraid of attack.
The watchers stand still, unwilling to intervene,
While I fold myself smaller, hoping not to be seen.