I find it funny
To be called a poet
When often times
I cannot sew together
A simple sentence
To explain to you
The anxiety drilling
Holes deep within
My bones of which
Often feel non-existent.

I find it funny
To be called a wife
When often times
I cannot collect
The energy to make
A simple dinner
Meant for two
Or wash and fold
The laundry now
Two weeks past due.

I find it funny
To be called a friend
When often times
I cannot pick up
My phone for
Even a simple
Message to let you
Know I love you
Even if it may seem
Like I avoid you.

I find it funny
To be called funny
When often times
I am the **** of my
Own jokes and they
Have no clue that
To me, I am stating
Simple facts with
A hint of laughter
To keep from crying.

-ARI

You
Were broken
And I spent
Countless hours
Collecting the shards
Of your shattered soul
From the impact
Of a death.
You
Were sobbing
In a heap of
Bloodied tissues
And I was there silently
Destroying evidence of
Your depression
Induced self hate
As I held you closely.
You
Were a gnarled
Garden of lost
Beauty and I
Was there to rid you
Of the invasive weeds
Happily devouring
The life in your veins
Leaving you to die.
But
I was left with
Bleeding hands from
The shards of your soul
Razors sinking in my skin
From your example of
"Release"
The weeds of depression
Strangling me and all I needed was
You.

But you never came.

-ARI

She desires excellence – pristine, pure, perfection.
She desires excellence – clarity, cogency, coherence.
She desires excellence – sharp, sensual, stressful.
She desires excellence – alluring, artful, alone.
She desires excellence – too much, too much, too much.

I watch the yard,
You have given it life,
Weeks ago I danced with blades and now
I find
You have saved me,

Your presence warms the sun,
Your fire ignites my fun,
The life I had,
Has nothing on the life I have,
All because of one,
You
<3