I.
my head was starting to overflow
thoughts and memories
spilling out onto the streets
so I took an eraser to the etchings that littered the cave walls
of my mind and now
it’s a blank canvas
and baby you are no longer
my muse.
ll.
my shoulders were beginning
to ache from years
of carrying the weight
of a lifetime of sadness
so I scrubbed off the blue
of your name and found only gray underneath
and you can imagine my surprise when I learned
there is something worse than pain.
emptyness.
lll.
two arms are not nearly enough
to bear the weight
of hearing you tell me
you don’t love me anymore
so I planted the seeds of your words in my wrists
and when they finally blossomed
the terrain was too tattered to recognize the words that once ****** the life from my very veins
like weeds
and maybe that’s for the best.
llll.
when the bruises began to form
in the places around my waist
you once held onto so tightly
like it meant the difference between life and death
like my hips were the only handles left on Earth and you were afraid to fall in love, I realized bruised lips are not the same thing as tough love.
lllll.
my thighs shrunk everytime I
said no
I’m not hungry, I already ate, I’m fine thanks,
and the bigger the space between
my thighs grew, the better I felt knowing I was making room for you
without realizing
until it was too late that the more area you occupied, the less I had to grow.
I’m wilting.
llllll.
my knees are shaking like
the leaves were
the day you told me you no longer wanted to try and love me
so my calves are swaying and
my toes are curling and these lines twisting around my thighs
are begging
to be
opened .
lllllll.
my wrists are starting to overflow
nightmares and heartbreaks
spilling out onto the streets
so I took a razor to the etchings
that littered the cave walls
of my arms and now
it’s a ****** canvas
and baby you are no longer
my muse.
Jul 3, 2015
Jul 3, 2015 at 12:23 AM UTC
I.
my head was starting to overflow
thoughts and memories
spilling out onto the streets
so I took an eraser to the etchings that littered the cave walls
of my mind and now
it’s a blank canvas
and baby you are no longer
my muse.
ll.
my shoulders were beginning
to ache from years
of carrying the weight
of a lifetime of sadness
so I scrubbed off the blue
of your name and found only gray underneath
and you can imagine my surprise when I learned
there is something worse than pain.
emptyness.
lll.
two arms are not nearly enough
to bear the weight
of hearing you tell me
you don’t love me anymore
so I planted the seeds of your words in my wrists
and when they finally blossomed
the terrain was too tattered to recognize the words that once ****** the life from my very veins
like weeds
and maybe that’s for the best.
llll.
when the bruises began to form
in the places around my waist
you once held onto so tightly
like it meant the difference between life and death
like my hips were the only handles left on Earth and you were afraid to fall in love, I realized bruised lips are not the same thing as tough love.
lllll.
my thighs shrunk everytime I
said no
I’m not hungry, I already ate, I’m fine thanks,
and the bigger the space between
my thighs grew, the better I felt knowing I was making room for you
without realizing
until it was too late that the more area you occupied, the less I had to grow.
I’m wilting.
llllll.
my knees are shaking like
the leaves were
the day you told me you no longer wanted to try and love me
so my calves are swaying and
my toes are curling and these lines twisting around my thighs
are begging
to be
opened .
lllllll.
my wrists are starting to overflow
nightmares and heartbreaks
spilling out onto the streets
so I took a razor to the etchings
that littered the cave walls
of my arms and now
it’s a ****** canvas
and baby you are no longer
my muse.
