I am broken.

there is nothing
beautiful about that.

brokenness is painful
and ugly and terrifying.

but no matter what,
I do not need you to
piece me back together.



yes, I am broken.

but I don't need
to be fixed.

you never asked to read my poetry
maybe that was the sign.
i told you i wrote for fun,
you shrugged and moved on.

I say:
Do you want me to pretend you do not exist?

She says:
Do as you wish.

I perceive:
All I was once you moved onto the next,
A waste of breath.

What a mutual perception process,

You keep on running and now I have nothing but my beliefs.

And what do you have?
Your cup is empty

It would be full but...
You poke holes in all the words I speak

Feet on the pedals,
Crunchy Gravel.
Sunshine.

Cycling to nowhere,
Round and Round,
Without a care.

Fences and trees,
and paths and leaves.
Laughter. Joy.

Up and Down,
Back and forth,
A circular journey.

Round and round,
Over and over
and over and...

Beginning, middle, end.
Addiction, Recovery, Relapse.
OCD, Depression, Anxiety.

Cycling to nowhere.

I wanna look exactly how I feel
expression in its truest form
I relate colors to my mood
I’m like an abstract painting with no caption underneath
I want to be so true to my feelings that when I’m feeling down
I turn the color blue