i beg as if in need.
an infatuation,
a connection,
between today and me.

holding out my hand,
i see not mine,
but the person
"yesterday and tomorrow".

the pillowman screams
messing and mixing
with who i ought to be-
tonight is no different.

i walk in circles,
in melancholy,
and fraud joviality,
never to be anything.

-eozyoh. 14.03.17

Frequently,
I race across the words
reading too rapidly,
missing the depths
of descriptive sounds,
and failing to engage
the full immersive array
of language the writer displays
because I wish to portray
the fiction of a deep person
who reads intelligently.

Oh no,
the center
will hold
just fine.
It is
the rest of us
on the outside
that will
spin out
of control.

There were
so many reasons
not to
that also
pushed me
to

The things
left unsaid
left us
breathless

If you took a stroll
inside my heart
you'd feel
an earthquake
every time
it beats
echoing
his
name

breakfast felt like sin, it burned on the way down, burned like how his hands used to burn, as they took a journey on a body i never gave permission for him to inhabit.

I had that dream again, where i am on the floor and he is smothering me, all of me, with his hands and his mouth and his ****, and I can feel the way his body is a persistent pressure and weight above mine. I have my mouth open wide but no sound will leave it & there are people right outside the door that would hear if i just open it and yell something but i can't and i am completely paralyzed by the fact.

sometimes i wish i could wake up screaming, just so i could have an excuse to scream, but i don't know how that would feel, i don’t even remember how to feel anymore. I still cry, but i think it's more so instinctive than it is, self defense, because after each 10 minutes to 2 hours, i don't feel any different. I just feel dull and detached. A floating lost thing in space, waiting for someone to discover it and see him,

see me.

feeling trapped is worse than feeling alive, and for so long i dreaded that simple, factual feeling, but now, this cornered, helpless feeling that is living on me, in me, like mold, feels worse than how i imagined death, how i imagined life, if it meant something..

I just want to feel like i could crawl out of this cave with the confidence i wouldn't fall into another one.