squished its soft body
between my shoe and the cold concrete
it was disgusting
i tell myself
an objective fact
too many legs
its hairy, thats wierd
but
really
it was different
and i was afraid
i do not think i should be allowed to **** something that is other
than me
just because
it is

dont feel sad if you are not who you used to be
you are just homesick
you are just tired
you are just going home

the girl
gauzy dress
tattered and torn
running
breathless through brambles
reaches a river
pursued
panting
she must cross it
take a step into
freezing water
numbing bones
shaking shivering
pale skin and blue lips
trip
and
fall
hands go forward
trying to catch
whatever is left of yourself
but pieces crumble and scatter
on the mossy rocks
sharper than they
look
dogs barking
men yelling
filthy
hunting
they will be here soon
so get up
because there is no more time
to lie here
and wish you were home
the girl
who was maybe once loved
is now drowning
face down
in frigid murky water
the only company in death
is those who persecute her
as her pale body
begins to rot
even god
starts to
forget
about her
first
her hands
then
her face
then
her hair
until there is
nothing
left
so that when the dogs
frothing lips
raised fur
and the men
shouting voices
savage thoughts
arrive
the girl is gone
nothing left of her but a
whisper of wind
the scent of sandalwood
and strawberries
and ****
and summer days
long forgotten
but now remembered by those
who never knew them
maybe god didnt forget her
maybe he saved her

sometimes i allow
myself to hope that i can
save myself at last

its a beautiful thing
to have a heart full of love
until you lay alone at night
clutching desperately
as thorny roses of hate
tighten around your chest
and fill your eyes with blood
that runs down your cheeks
the metallic tang
into your mouth
you are struggling to breathe
and whimpering like a wounded dog

"i am a forest fire
and i am the fire and i am the forest
and i am the witness watching it
i stand in a valley watching it
and you are not there at all"
- 'a burning hill' - Mitski

theyre mad again and its my fault

tension
dr
      i
         ps
down the hall
as i
try
to hide myself
away from people
who send
the sharpest daggers through my soul
shattering me
without even trying
im trying, i hope they know
even though its hard
to keep my head up
when i want to bury it
far away
where they will never
ever
reach it
but
if i think about it reasonably
its my fault
and im sorry