the gentle twin
of the aggressive,
passionate
5th
beethoven's 6th dances
sings
of repetition in nature
and in ourselves
how, in a way
we are all the same
leaf, stem, branch
eyes, nose, mouth
it's the law of uniformitarianism
what happened before
in geological history
can, and will,
happen again
love me today
love me tomorrow
hit me today
hit me tomorrow
disappoint me today
disappoint me tomorrow
uniformitarianism
or beethoven's 6th
it's what keeps us
safe in our beds
and wide awake
scared
at 4 in the morning

mis demonios parecen a cicatrices
con el sabor del suicidio
and they watch
they wait
from the dark corners
the creases
of my mind
and they laugh
as I drown
in this stale air
they step on my chest
crushing my brittle ribcage
caving in my empty lungs
they laugh
as I drown
in this salty ocean
one small drop at a time
as my skin tightens
my cheeks stained grey
my eyes bloodshot
blinded
they laugh
as I drown
in giving up
giving in
to the biggest demon of them all
the beautiful sister of depression
anxiety*

mis demonios parecen a cicatrices
con el sabor del suicidio
and they run back into the shadows
chased by a box of kleenex
and her scratchy sweater
leaving my face raw
but finally
dry

I compare myself to silverware
because both myself
and your shining collection of forks and knives
let people use us over
and over again,
never asking for anything in return.
Though sometimes I wonder
if the tablespoon ever tires
of the same old routine
because I think that,
possibly,
I do.

a white ceramic swimming pool
filled to the brim
with hot water
and rainbow bubbles
growing, swelling
popping
forming anew
the stench of your organic dish soap
overwhelms me
chemical and lemon has become a part of my DNA
use me
abuse me
then tell me I'm *****
useless
and scrub me clean
let me restart
none the wiser and twice the cleaner
let your fake nails and cheap sponge
leave streaks and scratches on my surface
and lock me away
in a wooden box
with the others
where we wait
for the next bowl
of chicken-and-zoloft soup
to be served

looking at the sky
is enough to make you feel
more insignificant
than the bacteria we crush
beneath our feet
which begs the question;
are we so tiny
that all of our efforts
all of our actions
amount to nothing?
or are we small enough
that every single thing we do
matters?
you said you hoped it was the latter
I do, too.

anchor me to the skies
so I don't drown
in the depths
of this ocean
this hell
the salt burns my wounds
the cold water chills my spine
and I can't take it anymore
I'll be your rock
if you'll be my sun and stars
and keep me safe
from the churning seas below

hello, anxiety
welcome to my humble abode
tell me you're doing well
you seem to be thriving
in this poor excuse for a body
I wish I could say the same
my love
my constant companion
my greatest weakness
I see you've made yourself at home
please, enjoy your stay
I'd offer you coffee
maybe tea, or just water
but it appears I have forgotten how to ask.