The hole in my chest spins with the phosphorescent white lights of my eyeballs
They go out in an instant
Reverse, counterclockwise
This house is toxic and I can't seem to shake the feeling that this black-hole feels more like home than anything I've known.
It isn't because I know you best
It's because I know you worst
And if I had learned that and never repeated the lesson,
Then my candles wouldn't be nearly gone
And my lipstick wouldn't be stained onto my lips
And I would have been asleep hours ago.

See, I have a problem with saying no.
A vortex approaches me and I'm excited, not afraid
I invite it in to my rib cage just to feel it knot all of my torso into a ball
Tensing it and tensing it until I release
Into the blade and into the lack of my senses
Tingling and wet incisions that taste like bitter mangoes and the bad nights in summer
Hot nights,
Sticky nights.
When you can't close your eyes and you can't feel your legs but the hair on your forehead could be glued on

The last time I was sent away, I had cat scratches on my hands
They're back again
My knuckles were the prettiest shades of red, black, and blue.
These appear in my head
Which might be a step toward heaven
Or what everyone tells me normality feels like.
Ignorance, bliss, and most important,
The avoidance of disappointment all together.

That's what I'm filled with.
Pens with missing parts, smudged nail polish, burning your hair, not having a family to have Thanksgiving with, knowing dad wants to die, waking up from a nightmare, being ****** into adulthood, having no money, being stood up at 3am by your ex
Darkness
The light has to be in there somewhere
Or else I don't know what I'll do.