I can feel the burning
in the back of my brain
The warmth
unkindly using my cells as kindling

Jealousy and sorrow
Are close friends
They feed off each other
And their chemicals form wildfires
In my mind
My jealousy and sorrow have become-
All consuming

He slept with them
Someone I don’t even know
Someone prettier
Someone kinder
Someone who tasted like lust and candy

Did you like it when your mouth was kissing its way down their body?
Or did you only think of me?
For how could that be the case if you continued.
Did they say your name in that way you like?
Is that what made you want to hear it in bed?

He slept with them
And I can’t even be upset
Because I understand why

And it’s my fault.

Still I am left wondering
Will I taste as sweet?
Or look as good?
Does my face need fixing or my body need shrinking?
Will I love as well as they?

Is my love undesirable?
Am I undesirable?

For how could you desire them in a matter of days
But turning back to me say
“I do not want you in that way”

I think I am lesser.
Perhaps I must accept that...

My mind is still burning.
It will not reduce.

It hasn’t become easier
My head is still full of sad thoughts
My heart is still heavy
I still cry when I’m alone
I am alone often

Unlike him
He is with everyone and anyone he can get his hands on
I don’t know the ****** context
I just mean
Company
He is never alone
So he is never sad

I am always alone
Even when I’m with others
I am empty
An empty shell
Drained of everything
By his hands
A hollow creature cannot house anyone or anything
Only loneliness

So though I have kept busy,
It’s been barely,
And certainly
Not enough
To drown out the sound of self hatred and remorse
...
Sadness is the only friend that seems to be able to fill my hollow husk
Perhaps that is because it is empty as well

You are the dearest creature to me
I didn’t know if you’d come back

Yet, here you are
I can reach out
Through time
And in a day
Your hand could be in mine

Dear god
I hope your hand is in mine

I have hope
And it refuses to wither away
Or be drowned out
It breathes in my ear

I miss him
I miss him
I miss him

I cannot let go of the chance
To have you again
And the desperate desire to keep you

Though I am reaching for the stars
I have hope
He’ll reach down to my mortal realm
And let me touch his heavens
Once again

I cannot read the future
But I hope (with time)
He may come to trust me

So, I will rebuild the broken shambles
Of my home
In his bed of starlight
And I will Never burn it down again.

I am too indulgent
Too much
Too self pitying
And
Prone to mood swings
Stubborn to the point of blindness
I am likely to be a substance abuser
And a lover without any tact

I believe poetry
Can make anyone blind
To their own deep pain
It can romanticize
Even a self loathing *******
As myself
Even if
It should not

Artists are cursed
Artists are cursed to wallow in their own sadness
They enable the darkness inside themselves
we are afraid of permanent happiness
For is not the best art made by the broken

I’m no good at being alone
No good at all
I want to do anything to leave my brain behind
It plagues me
It is an irreversible disease
Binding itself
As a parasite does
To my body
I am the host for this irrefutable nightmare
The walking disaster
One word away from break down, panic, or manic
My brain won’t leave me in peace
I hate being alone
Because being alone is not truly alone
It is still me and my brain
And now there’s no buffer
Only us
Going head to head in a match to the death-
My suicide or my depleting health
There is no winning for the host
Only the disease can win
The brain I was given had potential
But it was malformed and prone to infection
Now I am stuck with it
Slowly eating away at my physical health
my mental health is nonexistent
I cannot get away
And that is why I hate being alone
Because I am not diseased or infected and there is no leech feeding off my blood
It is only my mind
And I can blame no one but myself for my brain’s lack of inhibition or stable dopamine supply

Brokenness of the heart
Is an infected wound
It will not heal like a cut or a piercing
The mind and heart become sick off the pain and the mourning