Writing and taking pictures.
Those are the only two things I do for myself.
I feel like I can finally breathe.
It's amusing how unleashing inner creativity
can make you feel whole.
Like a child, learning to color their world for the first time.
Out of the womb, taking your first breaths.
Or taking your first breaths,
after feeling like you've been suffocated for months.
As an "adult"
being cast inside a 'box'
I've learned to fall in love with the beauty
of others art.
And basque in the comfort of my own.

Lately I’ve been dreaming about you.
Often.
I’m yelling for you
But you can’t hear me.
You pull me in to kiss you
But you don’t kiss me back.
Maybe it’s because you’re lying next to her now.

That night we drank whiskey til the sun came up;
You pulled me in,
And I pushed you away.
I wish I would have kissed you instead.

it fills me with warmth
i don’t remember feeling
ever since you left.

nobody hates me more than She does.
though She knows the complexities of me,
thoughts, loves, ambitions, insecurities.
She's seen me naked; physical skin, down to what lies beneath my bones.
She's made me think:
that putting a knife to my own skin to make this pain go away indefinitely, is the only way to escape
She's coaxed me into drinking poison, to lay with men who don't care to know my name.
She is the most hurtful voice in my own head.
it seems these days She only wants to see me lifeless, so She can wrap a warm blanket around me and whisper "I told you so"

but maybe one day, She will learn to love (herself).
learn to forgive the pain she's caused others (and herself)
because i am all She has.