If I had any power over the visions
That haunt my attempted sleep,
I’d fill them with portraits of you.

So every night, I could walk through galleries of you,
Each painting a study of your eyes
And the way they make me breathe like I’m finally breaking the surface of a dark sea.

An ode to the lines on your cheeks
That implore my lips to kiss.
A still life of your sylvan hair
Cascading onto your strong yet lovely shoulders,
And your chest that begs my head to rest.

Watercolors of your lips and tongue and their softness that silences my restless mind
But set my heart ablaze with passion
Until my lungs can only whimper.

But my brush strokes are clumsy,
I wish I had the dexterity to
Capture you in a frame,
But I don’t think that even the greats could.

I can’t discern the reason,
But I’ve started contemplating escape.
Not a thing has changed between us,
And yet my heart has gone cold.

But maybe that’s the problem.
I shift shapes like water bends and twists
To make its way over rocks,
Under fallen trees,
To a sea of possibility.
And nothing between us has changed.

Your sweetness still sings.
Your love still finds shape in words,
Kisses, and touches.
I used the think that was all I ever needed,
But I’m starting to question my desires.

Lately my desires favor passing glances,
Coded messages, and working late.
My desire favors daydreaming
Of secret touches
And finding ways to get closer
To familiar faces full of seductive obscurity.

Maybe my desire just needs time
To find its way back to you.
I’m praying that it does.

The realization stings.
The recalling of my place in this world
Knocks me to the ground
And spits in my face.
It’s icy breath freezes me where I lay.

I remain still as they close in around me,
My friends.
My friends with strong arms,
Deep whispering voices,
Groping hands,
And free drinks.

They make me laugh,
They coax stories out of my mouth
To make room for themselves.
They bait my trust with jokes and gifts.
And once they capture my confidence,
They reach for my body.

But I swear my lips are bitter,
My hair is a thicket of thorns,
And my skin is made of broken glass.
Of course this is a lie.
A lie I wish I could squeeze reality out of.

And so I squeeze anyway
But the truth that flows with ease
Cuts me with joyous violence.
It fills me with poison
And drags my delirious body into its bed
Where it smacks me until my eyes light up with stars.
It strangles me until consciousness begins to slip away.

But ******* a dead girl isn’t as fun
As it sounds.
So he lets me breathe just enough
To let an apology form out of my bruised throat.

And when the truth is done
He’ll leave me out to bleed.
Out in the open for his friends to take a turn.

And they’ll do it again and again and again.
In the back of the art room in a middle school,
In the general admission section of a metal show,
In their twin bed,
In mine,
In the back of a car parked in a field,
At work,
In the bathroom at my friend’s house.

They’ll do it again and again and again

The external spills in.
A visage of the outside materializes on my reflective psyche.
And through the mirror,
The external reaches into me and forces me to tremble
And wail in unison with it.

Could I bend and manipulate the projected image?
Could I make it beautiful and weak
So that it cannot take hold of me and exploit this marionette body?
Or should I simply sever my strings?
So the impression cannot control me,
But only beg for my compliance.

And what if my will aligns with that of the terrible specter's?
I fear I may be too willing
To do the harm it bids me.

I don’t expect to be understood
But I don’t feel like I ever woke up this morning.
I’m stuck in a nightmare
With your hands on my wrists.

And I’m reminded that if bruises could scar
My body would be a technicolor collage of red and blue and purple and yellow.

It makes me sick
How I have to get close to keep my distance.
I have to follow you to make sure our paths don’t intersect.
I need to know what you’re doing and where
Just to keep you there and not here.

Infatuation seeps into me
And spills away.
A constant flow of desire,
It goes as fast as it comes.

You’re a distraction that I don’t mind losing myself in.
You’re a beautiful view from my grey window.
A peripheral pleasure.

I try to keep you out of my mind
When you’re out of my sight,
But you’ve found me in my sleep.
I keep wondering if I’ve made my way into yours.

And when you’re in sight, you encapsulate my mind.
I let you dominate the few senses through which I can experience you
And I fantasize about how you could appeal to the senses that haven’t experienced you.

My heart betrayed my mind
When it paralyzed me.
When I climbed into your bed
And you did that thing you always did.
When you fell asleep like you’d never really been awake,
You turned your back to me
And in your dreaming
Cut all the strings I’ve been trying to tie to you.

My heart betrayed my mind
When it paralyzed me.
When rather than getting up
And taking my knots with me,
It kept me there in your bed.
It kept me still as silent tears
Soaked your pillow and sheets.

My heart betrayed me every night,
Every time I let you touch me
With lust and with violence.
Every time I let you call me what you called me
And strangle me with your pieced together
Patchwork words.

Even when I left you,
My heart betrayed me when it made me say
I’m Sorry.