I
i’m starting to believe
i was cursed from the moment the thought echoed in my mind
from the first letter of this poem
not cursed to feel it
but cursed to fail in it
maybe i was cursed before that even

II
maybe it’s because you make me inexplicably happy
when i am fated to suffer
you are
of course
too good to be true
but that won’t stop me from enjoying myself right now
so let’s take a moment for us
right here
right now
before it’s all over
and you leave me crashing down from heaven

III
i feel guilty that you want me
(because i know i’ll corrupt you
with my inevitable sorrow
and ice to freeze you out
and paranoid eyes to beg you to stay)
and i feel guilty that i want you
but this is the only story i know how to write
anymore

IV
i’m starting to believe that
maybe i’ve only fallen ill for a moment
and some(day week month year eternity)
i’ll remember i do not know the hands of fate

three times
you interjected into my heart's permanence
and three times
you've done it before.
once another two years have passed
i think i'll be looking for more.

you shouldn't have tempted me with a puzzle
cause now i've found you out.
what are you afraid of?
what am i afraid of?
i hid behind a new name
because i didn't want to scare you
didn't want you to know how sick i am
how deep the delusions go.
but you're my friend
and friends are honest with each other
so i'll let you see how sick i am
how deep the delusions go
how far i'll fall
in the name of a word i can't speak anymore.
i am ashamed of the things that make me human
and ashamed that i am not human enough.
i know you
(but i can't trust myself when i hear voices)
no, i know you!
(or did i just imagine?)

I am alive with the feeling of phantom sensation
anticipation
of the moment foreshadowed, forewarned
it has been foretold
that this is the first day of the rest of my life.

I know it,
and yet I fear;
I feel it,
and yet I still can’t breathe
can’t stand
nails drawing blood from the back of my hand.

It would have taken less strength to forget you,
but I don’t want to.

ashes to ashes
pocket full of sand
my years left to live
i can count on my hands

restless sleep
waking dreams
imagining
pockets full of sand leaking
seeking self-sacrificial death
and haven’t i been here before
drowning in the hourglass?

i don’t remember
i am blind, ready
and bleeding
trading freedom for chains
the transformation is already complete
the cycle repeats...

To my friend:
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry I lied to you.
I hope it comforts you to know
I felt your hate and hated myself more.
I deserved it,
your hate and every ounce of pain and
I hope you laughed last summer
when my cruelty came back around.
I hope you laughed last spring
when you dealt the final blow
and I walked right into your death trap
because I deserved it,
every bit of it.
I’m sorry for blaming you for ruining me
when I ruined myself.
Never again will I tell such a terrible lie;
never again will I speak words I do not mean.
I’m sorry,
and I wish you all the happiness in the world.
Please forgive me.