I stare up at you,
as you hold me,
in your lap.

I mutter a half-hearted apology,
and I tell you to
please stop crying

because what can be better,
than exactly this?
Me in your arms.

your hands flinch,
under my blood,
warm like your embrace.

And i smile in confusion,
when you sob,
as you drag your hands over my eyes.

You say something,
about peace, and rest,
and death.

I'm sorry.
I thought death was
the loss of your hands in mine.

Am I still a martyr,
if I die not for my land,
but what forever kept me landed?

Whether I dig it up,
or drink it down,
isn't love all love?

I bite into the
wet, sultry afterglow
of your presence.

The door swings open.
I reach for
the radiance left behind

It draws near,
—and swings closed,
suckling all light away.

I'd ruin my life,
If it meant feeling
your glow upon my face

I'll always grasp for you
the way
a fish clings to the
bait on the fishing rod.

hook,
line, and
never to let go.

May wears off slowly,
and june nears,
holding just
a small bag.

June:
the sixth,
the middle,
the balance.

I ask myself,
where did
your dreams go?

She doesn't bother
looking back.

"who do you think,
crushed them,
ripped apart,
with teeth?"

i want to stay drunk
off this sudden balance
for just
a little while longer.

the cloak,
rips apart

the caste,
comes crumbling down

the marigold,
wilts away

you and i,
foreverbound

honesty,
in my every breath

a lie,
in each of yours

who are you really,
beneath whatever you pretend to be?

A fairy sits,
on your shoulders.
Wings, neatly folded.

You swat it away,
because you think
anything magical,
is never to be trusted.

I hated you a little for
the smallest moment, there.

One day, I'll learn,
to love you
unmagically, enough.

Hold, hold—
keep holding your breath
keep biding your time.

Put your grief
back
in it's sheath

Abide—
there's been rules set
for a reason.

Who are you,
to unlock the cage
around your lungs?

How dare you wish? How dare you hope?

Silent warrior—
who begs to be loud
who begs to be violent.

Hold, hold—
not a sound.

You collect sunlight and
swallow it down,
like it's tylenol.

You feel a lot more real
in my dreams, than you do
in my arms.

The ashtray keeps overflowing
Why won't you
replace it?


                
                     There is a fine line
                              between
                      courage and fear



With you, it's always been
sink, then swim
burn, then crash
leave, then love.

I talked to my mother and God, once.
They both held me by my face.
God tells me,
"Child, your grief is only yours to grieve. The quieter, the shorter."
My mother says,
"Grieve loudly. Then, it won't last forever."

Neither of them know
How this grief is not mine.
And how i pried it off your hands, when you left.

And how I would let it strangle me by the neck
If it felt the ways your hands did

And neither of them know
That I would never escape this grief.
How I'll cradle it forever
As the last thing I have, left of you.

To a god— what is the act of love, but the suppression of hate? Eyes closed shut, I hold back a curse. God, you 𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘦— God, why did you leave me like this? God?

Somehow the pain of suffering feels smaller in the face of being abandoned by someone promised to remain with you.

God, I keep kneeling towards you. Without compain. Endlessly. Will you listen, now? Have I appeased you enough? Why are there so many people in this world of yours when you cannot listen to even half of them? Nevermind.

God, my hands are still clasped. I do not know how to separate them, anymore. God, will I always have bruised knees? Will I always and forever be waiting for you?