Maybe after some months
– or years –
I'll meet your eyes again
and maybe then,
you'll be able to love me.
Or maybe,
just maybe,
I'll have already forgotten you.
Hopefully.

I am a slow
motion
fall
deeper into fear.
The electric green of my personality
shocks, yet how I take form
in the shape of an X.
Close in on myself, sweat with
anticipation.
I am the number 17
an insignificant flash,
like a strobe light in your mind.
Rough like tree bark I am
a brick wall. I swim into my red veins
deep within my black mind.
Lost- I can’t see
Even with my eyes open.
I feel around the rough sandpaper edges
searching for an embrace.
Breaking glass sounds
I come apart.