fists clenched with white knuckled force,
my nails pierce this skin and
blood trickles down fingers from these
perforated palms, and i can’t help
but to think how this pain
is nothing but a distraction.

— biting your tongue to stop the tears only goes so far

my wrists ache with desire and these lungs hitch
and heave with each sickening sob.
as my body begs to feel,
and my heart begs to not.

— to feel everything and nothing at once

be angry,
be furious.
a storm of torrential rain and hellfire.
but when you’re done
and your seas have calmed,
come home.

— i'll be waiting by the docks

sometimes i feel like a dog
loyal to its owner for all the wrong reasons
always returning with a wagging tail
after being hit
starved
beat
and abandoned.

— separation anxiety

she was war,
a collection of cuts and old scars,
armored in the pain of her past,
bones of ash and thorn.
blood like spilled scarlet wine
splashed across the bathroom floor,
she cried alone—
unseen,
unknown.
but for all the tears, she rose to her feet
and sat upon her barbwire throne
for these bones still ache,
this body still bleeds,
these lungs still breathe,
and this heart still beats,
still beats,
still beats.

— my heart is not a home for cowards

i have been burning my whole life.
encased in immaculate flames,
flying too close to the sun
on these fragile wax wings.

— an image of icarus

my mouth is full of burning candles
and hot wax seeps from between my teeth.
my tongue knows nothing but rage and fire
and i don’t know whether to swallow this flame
and choke on the smoke until the heat burns holes in my throat,
or to spit it out
and watch everything around me burn down.

— impulse control