i am emptied of my tools,
the words, that gave me release
from the demons taught my
every waking nightmare,

every tingling pain in between
three eyelids & another playlist
to distract from the raw panic
that is the only "life", a livewire
in the pool; i drown myself
hourly, minutely examining
the scabbed over promises
that i wrote in between creases
of smiles and skin, heavy
with the weight of yearning

for simple pleasure to last longer
& for pretty lies to become truth
if only for longer than collections
of skimmed days, oil on water.

i chose momentary bliss-
it floats on the surface scars
lovely & weak against my anger
& i pale in comparison; lust is
flame against the falseness
of my form, rigid because
any less would be vulnerable
& the scars would be visible
under the melting of my smile.