this is a series of brief letters to the pieces of my body
we don't always work together very well,
but i swear i am trying.
the callouses and crescent moons in your palms
will not be for nothing.
aren't you tired of painting yourselves black & blue
every time words fall short of the fire burning behind my sternum?
you know better than to follow roads that lead to dead ends.
there are better places for us to go.
you have sunken so far into my skull
it shocks me you see anything at all anymore.
you're fixated on shades of gray
but i promise the world will regain its color soon.
this broken glass is from his bottles.
get up. no more blood.
it was never your burden to carry. let it fall,
and try your hardest not to feel guilty.
his hands will never make a home here,
and you are worth more than one night of empty bruises.
stop waiting to be warmed by fingers
that would reach for another body if they could.
do not waste yourselves.
you have been filled with ghost songs for too long.
stop listening for things no one is saying -
it will make life much simpler.
i know these secrets have been threatening to break my teeth
but please do not open your gates. i am not ready.
we have never been close friends.
i am sorry for the scars.
i am trying to learn how to be comfortable in you.
if i could wish you into an etch-a-sketch
and shake you clean of these bad memories i would.
i hope you can forgive me for being so careless.
i feel how tired you are. rest is on its way.
you will one day see a grave,
but it must not be by your own hands.