Three
people  in
this  void, all
will  be  annoyed,
one  is  in  the  dark,
two  hold  secrets  that
are  cold,  three  will  be  in
pieces,  one  wears  a
blind fold, two have
been cheating,
all    parties
have been
sold.

You don’t know how it feels.

When you are cut from your lifeline
like an apple being picked
when it isn’t fully grown.
When you are replaced
with hard plastic and metal
where bone should be.

You probably want to know why he hates you.

It is because he has to learn how to walk again.
Because you can’t run like I could.
Because you can’t kick a soccer ball like I could.
Because you can’t make him itch like I could.
Because you are a reminder of the infection.
The infection...
that took me away from him.

I was made with him.
You were made for him.

You took six weeks to be created
I took nine months.
I was his first step,
You were a puzzle piece
that didn’t quite fit
You had to be forced
by people in white masks and blue gloves
They couldn’t touch you and
neither can he.
So instead you lay on his bedroom floor.

And I will not feel bad for you because
I am lying in a medical waste bin.
Waiting for my turn to enter the fire.

This
is
my
hell.

I miss him,
will you tell him
that I miss him?
Let him know the feeling is mutual.

I understand if you tear this up
there is no warmth in you.
No blood will ever pump through you.
Trust me, I get it.

When the heart dies, it is buried where it belongs.
Being hugged by its fellow vital organs.
it’s just like taking a nap
they say.
But when I die,
I am surrounded
by other dispensable body parts.
We are the forgotten few.
People do not have funerals for finger tips.
It feels like I am being eaten alive.

You can’t tell me I should feel bad for you.
Or that I should feel sorry for you.
Because I was alive,
I was moving
and you
are plastic.

Just,
tell him goodbye for me.

Our love was
embalmed
in lace.

Subtle knives snuck under dish towels and pins
dropped into morning tea.
You were my sometimes moon,
covered in rust from head to toe.

again I wondered
what they saw...

how I don't
match.

the snowflakes in
my hair didn't
seem to melt and
my scarf dragged.

I felt strong
in these boots
but knew somehow
that I still
looked Weak.

But that
they didn't care
because the shades
of their own
worries stood
in their paths like
trees.

I ponder
why I keep fighting
other people's
giants.

I question
how it should
matter what
the outside
looks like

I conclude that
I do
because the
inside needs
so much ****
work that
it's a monumental
construction.

Like Noah's Ark.

Only there's no
way God is
going to ever
help me
with rounding up
that many
animals.

Your smile warmed my cold heart
Your laughter made me smile
I giggled at an empty glass,
Knowing that you're around

How I wish I had never met you
Your eyes tainted my light
I left with a heavy heart,
Knowing that you were the one

You littered my heart with joy
But my sadness washes it all away,
Leaving tiny fragments behind
Embracing my broken soul

My stained light quietly dances down
And vanishes into an epilogue

Pink eyed words whisper slow.

Lazy layers of smoke curl around her expositions--
marbled collarbones protruding from the recluse
of a crippled child called

Hot ash sprinkled across her duvet,
she feels too heavy
under the dark velvet of the night sky.

Fingertips trace stories across wrists,
catching the rivets of her imperfections with
bitten down nails.