I love to drink
Because it gets me
away
from my baseline.
The fact that I hate life,
existence.
Day
by day
by mediocre
day.
Is it better
closer
or farther away?
From the people with smiling faces,
conversations,
fully masked and exhausting.
What's the difference?
There is no revelation
being sober.
Just the same minute ticking
over and over.
I am so unimportant
and I don't know how
to stop the constant drowning.

Always writing about choking
and wishing to fly free;
where does it get me?
Chained to the same
sinking tree.
Trying to find
beauty
or ease
in the days that never cease,
the veins refuse to bleed
for me.
Who cares?
Nobody is a savior.
No flavor there to savor.

I want to be numb.

It hurts so much
I cannot bear
there's nowhere to run
And no way to share
I cannot tell you what's wrong
For I will be a broken record player
repeating the same sad song
until it's stuck in your head.
I want to protect you from this
So that we're not both dragged down
Maybe it would be better for you
To not wait for the anchor
to drag your boat underwater

I should be the only one who drowns.

Go on your adventures
Climb mountains
Swim rivers
Stroll along paths
we used to walk together
Howl at the moon
soak in its shine.

Traverse back down the mountain
To the tepid swamp
we call home.

Come back to my shackled sadness
I'll drown you in it.

And now I've forced myself back
into a cage of my own making.
There is no escaping
no light
only tunnel.
I'm back to no adventure
                    no excitement
Can't even have my coping habits
Back inside my little box
with limited options.
**** this.
I hate myself.
I tasted freedom for such a brief second
And I ruined it.

when my birthfather messages.
the dread that he'll ask me to see him

when I tell him of my divorce
and he asks no questions
and offers
no condolences.
when I try to tell details
and he talks over me
             tells me
best to not speak ill of the past,
there's no reason.
when I must pay a stranger
to listen like he should
               like he didn't
all these years,
when the words were not something
he wanted to hear
or maybe
he's scared of my tears.
the ones he told me
solve nothing
while offering
           no solutions
           no protections
           no affection
unless he found it fit
between the cracks of his moods
within the space of his closet.

because he likes to keep peace
I must not trod upon it.

I've been keeping it at bay for so long
letting it loose
feels rusty,
unnatural.

I used to consume boys
like a wildfire.
Teeth and hands and hips.
No second thoughts,
no reservedness.
But I've had to be so gentle,
so plain,
so long

I've forgotten how it feels

like bliss,
like nervousness,
like does my body fit like this
with you

unrestrained action
and passion
and fun

I want to go on.

Pretty little bird,
Who created her own cage,
Who once hated her own wings
For being flighty.
Now stares outward
From behind her wooden bars,
That she picked so meticulously
For their comfort
            and safety.

And only now
           notices their restrictions.

There is safety
                but there are no skies.
        She loves to sing
                         but also to fly.

If she breaks some branches
    for a doorway
will the rest crumble
with her inside?

Or is it possible
      to have a nest to return to
    As well as the sky?

Should she try?