you told me to wait
but never told me how long
and so i've been waiting
patiently yearning
for something that will never come.

i'm a writer by nature
but that doesn't always mean my head's in the clouds
it means my mind steals bits of reality
pieces of people
and lines from others
i forget my place and
try to act as the main character
to create experiences
but wallflowers
are the best writers of all

you give me half-hearted replies
to emotional confessions
give me an answer
no matter how harsh
for it is better to be rejected
than to be left hoping in the dark.

for right now my heart is achy,
breaky,
painful
as i am pulled
onto whatever path you see fit
it's become a tug of war
between pathos and logos
but i was overpowered long ago

is there a right way to love?
if there is, this isn't it
i'm filling my lungs with toxic gas
and my heart is melting slowly
but i've convinced my brain
to let it be
and tell myself
this poison is all for you

is there a right way to love?
i jumped into the sky
wings made of soft touches
and midnight calls
but you stopped supplying
what made me fly
and im hurtling to
the ground of harsh reality

is there a right way to love?
we crossed paths,
too early, too late
or maybe we were never
meant to reach a crossroad.

her heart is frank
bold and unforgiving
she whispers the mistakes
i quietly make
and swats my hand away
from excess food
we exercise
until our bones give out
our breaths mingling together as one
on the sweat-stained treadmill
i freeze my meals in the fridge
to deny the stench of their rot in the trash
we count the calories,
go on a diet
and cancel plans to go out
we are healthy together
we only need each other
meet my best friend, anorexia.

his beer-stained breath
makes me fearful every step
as the stained glass of the bottle
thuds against the wooden table
i have grown afraid of
the gasp of a bottle cap
for it only signifies pain

my skin is his canvas
aggressive streaks of red
graced with blooming petals of purple
speckled with nausea green
i become a painting
to be sold off for my sins

my teeth are stained with blood
i keep my mouth shut
sewed tight by the strings
he holds about my body
control is power, he says
and i control you

he created my life
and thus, i am his
forever indebted
to the man who lit a match
in the chambers of my lungs
and i am never peaceful
forever burning alive.

to consume is to live
the simple rule of nature
you must **** to survive
whether it be plant or animal

the intricacies of such
matter not
for it boils down
to eat or be eaten

and such the humans reign
in their self-glorified manger
of sparkling cities
and flashing lights

but carnage appears
creates gorey rumors
and speculations
tend to run amok

ambitious chunks of flesh
torn from fragile bodies
the teeth of a human
but the spirit of a monster

death rattles through the streets
on the bones of the fallen
self-preservation
tugs its followers behind

putrid stench
rotting antlers
skin and bones
and blood

the wendigo has arrived.