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May 2018
Words, redacted,
Still echo in my mind.
Esteem in shambles.
Foundation unstable.
Aware enough to know the fallacy
Yet to weak to tune it out.
Communication misheard.
Emotions unchecked.
Can't swallow this;
Choking to death.
Words on a CD disc
Covered in scratches
Skip-skip-skip, away to oblivion.
I can't breathe in a pool of oxygen.
Weights lifted,
Pressure remains.
Heart is ready to burst
In a gruesome seen
Of mental instability.
This is based off a fight I had with someone I cherish more than anything. In the fight, as so often is the case, things were said that were not untrue by any means, but were said in a convoluted manor that brought about a lot of doubt in self and within the relationship. When the flood gates of the past opened I was caught so off guard. The other party noted that they had not lied, but withheld information. A tactic we all have used at one point or the other, one I often times find acceptable. However in this context, and within this relationship, regardless of what you call the lack of information it was like a truck to the chest. It took this image of "us" I had drafted in my mind and shattered it to oblivion. This poem is about how the words of another can echo in your mind and feel like the absolute truth, even though you know for a fact that it is not the truth.
Alaina Moore
Written by
Alaina Moore  28/Genderqueer/Chicago
(28/Genderqueer/Chicago)   
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