He told me that he is burning alive,
not literally, but inside. Said that he
feels palpitations every time he thinks
he might go back;

like his heart is a jarful of moths,

beating against glass.
I told him we are all breakable,
but that he is going to make it through.

He asks me if monks can really
spontaneously combust. I reply, no,
but they light themselves on fire.
It’s a way of protest. He says oh.

He then says, I want to protest

against Adderall, Cymbalta, and
Marijuana: he still can’t focus, still
can’t be happy, and being high is
a minor fix. I don’t know what to say.

We sit silent for a while. I ask him
what depression is like. He laughs
and says, it’s like a really drawn out
stubbed toe, only it’s in your head

and no matter how much you curse
you think the pain will only get worse.
It always does too. I just want to die.

The next day he scorched himself.
Someone called 911 and reported a man
walking out of a pawn shop

with a jar full of something dead

and then poured
gasoline over his head and lit a lighter.
I cried. I wondered if there were wings

still fluttering when he burst into ash.
He could have at least saved what little
flight he had left, what little life, for me.

I could not leave you
because I love you
I finally left you
because I had to

When a man say it's over
he has reached the elastic
limit of his patience

I'll not forget you
because I'll miss you
But, there'll be no tears
and there'll be no goodbye

I don't miss You
as much as I did a week ago;
I miss You more,
but not in the same way as love birds do
when la mia amata
just  
wasn't
the same anymore.
Do You know how love birds love?  
The pain of losing their loved one is so intense
that they cope with the loss
in self-destruction.
Do You know how love birds love?
They Love fully,

*even after Death

What was once a blissful flow of pitches and harmonies
spilling from tangled white wires and into my ears
became a flow of sorrow and tears,
spilling from my eyes and strolling down my cheeks
as the song and the memory joined hands
and became one,
refusing to separate
no matter how hard I tried to rip their intertwined fingers apart

I've said before
that you don't know
me.
But I'm pretty
sure that I don't
know myself either.
I've changed so much in
the past week that
my skin has become
tarnished.
He destroyed my insides
and put holes on my
outsides. I've extended
the damage he did by
dwelling on it.
His face engraved in
my brain
and his name tattooed
under my tongue
like a ***** secret
you have to bite on.

I remember his voice,
and the record gets stuck.
The world around me
disappears and I can
see him holding me down
trying so hard to get into
my pants.
He told me I shouldn't
be scared.
My hands were above
my head and I couldn't
wipe away the tears.

He let me go and I ran
trying to go home.
He held me, told me
it was okay and
to stay.

He grew like mold inside
me.
I want to say it's my
fault I let the infection
grow this big.
I saw all the signs but
I never tried to get
rid of it.
I was mercury and he
was room temperature.
I melted in his seemingly
normal presence.

When people spoke
I never listened.
I thought I deserved
to rot in my own ****.

I got worse with my
victim mind set.
I let him soak into
my skin not caring if
it made my insides rot.

He still lives under my
skin. Like tapeworms he
makes my stomach crawl.

I saw him as a knight
but little did I know he
got his armour from party city.
He dressed up for me
at first.
Then he started wearing a different
mask.
He got controlling.
I broke his curtain
tumbling through a window
and he hit me.

Flashbacks like car lights
in front of my eyes.
I stand in it reveling
at the thought that I
can handle a car hitting me.

My mind is so intertwined
with his body
I feel his hands
gripping my wrists.

Like wives were buried.
with their husbands
and never mentioned.
I am still under his
thumb and my ashes
will be spread over
his grave to symbolize
how he engulfed me.