Mar Somera May 10

2 am found me
staring at our ceiling,
imagining that the
flakes of wood
the termites sent
raining down on me were
stars
falling from
the sky,
traveling in a speed
faster than light
before finding
their way
into
my weary eyes.

3 am found me
listening to the
two-second intervals
between
my mother's breaths,
inhale exhale
inhale exhale
i inhale and
think about how
breathing is easier
when i'm asleep, and
dreams only
visit me when
i can't sleep.

4 am found me
forming shapes
from shadows,
shadows forming
shapes in
the dark,
my fingers tracing
ribcages and
trailing blood
on the
hardwood floor.

5 am found me
dreaming with my
eyes open,
up with the first birds of
morning,
my face turned to
the rising sun,
and my heart beating
its symphony:
i exist
i exist
i exist.

Mar Somera Apr 28

i am still broken,
but not irreparable.

sometimes i still flinch
from other people's touch.

the moment they try to
dig deeper than the surface

is the moment i fight to remember
what it's like to be alive.

it's not your fault,
nor mine.

my breathing just gets pretty labored
with time.

It's so hard to let other people in.
Mar Somera Mar 14

i wonder what the mirror sees when i look upon it,
if its cracks are mirrored on the surface of my skin.

Mar Somera Feb 19

I will be cruel to your heart.
I will tear it out and pick the veins apart,
squeeze it between my fingers until they are red with life.

You will suffer and you will cry for God,
and right then I'd swoop in and be your knight,
your salvation, your only shield against the night.

I will tell you pretty lies about the scars
I have caused,
And you will love me for them because
We are of each other's soul.

Your sharp edges match my hollowness,
Your desperation stokes my madness.

I will love you cruelly.
I will give you a crown of thorns and
A crucifix you can nail yourself into,
And in our wedding night I shall carve my name
Across your skin in enemy colors.

I am not yours.
You are mine.

Can love even be anything other than selfish?
Mar Somera Sep 2016

I am an explorer searching for ways to kill my sadness.

Mar Somera Sep 2016

Even in my wildest dreams, you are a pipe dream.

— The End —