It was once a hand held out to you
leaking venom and broken promises
he smiled, said "Take it"
I can take care of you

Did you believe it
even when your wrists dripped
the color of your own self-destruction?

When Be Mine
became less edible ink
on Valentine candy
and more invisible shackles
disguised as the bangles
he tightened around you
to hide the scars.

When You are so easy to manipulate
started sounding like,
"You are so easy to love"

and you let the words morph into something beautiful,
because you so badly wanted to believe in the lie.

When you begin to tell yourself
that He never hit me
was the same as He never hurt me

And you start to wonder how
He broke you so gently.

They* say that silence is golden...whatever that means.
They say that "no news is good news."
They say that to really understand someone, you need to "walk in his shoes."

Give me a break; cut me some slack; take a chill pill.
Who are they? And what gives them the right?

The silence I'm in is black.
It is not golden.
It does not shine with light.
It is empty, earth shattering heartbreak.
That is my silence.

No news is not good news: this doesn't even make sense as a math or logic problem.
No news is never good news when you're dangling off of the edge of your emotional downfall-- holding on by your fingertips.
No news is not good news when you're struggling to keep your head above water, but your body is becoming heavy with doubt.

And my shoes? They don't even fit me properly half of the time.

So tell me, who are they?
Because I want to see their golden silence, understand how their lack of news is a positive... and I bet their shoes don't fit me either.

I lost ten pounds in three days
It's easier to leave the house without breakfast
It's easier to leave the house without worrying about future meals
It's easier to leave the house without those ten pounds
It's easier to leave the house without caring about your hair
It's easier to leave the house without caring about anything
Anything but you
Carrying the memory of you is the hardest thing I've ever done

Sleeping for what felt like an eternity
Was really only an hour
When the time I spent with you was a blink
In the forever of my life.

I wanted to write a book of us
But you left me only a page
For myself,
And for you, together

If I could stay unconscious forever
Our book would be endless
Chapters upon chapters
Of love without loss

Yet here I am
Gasping for breath, startled from my slumber
Your face in my dreams, a surge of adrenaline
Blank pages in my lap