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 Dec 2017 Silently Screaming
kas
this is how it happens
it's the last day the temperature will be
above thirty-two degrees Fahrenheit
until February
you're not looking at the date
it's just the end of November
the middle of the night in the middle of a road
at the end of November
the hum of this small town hurts your ears
you're stuck in a dream where everything you see
turns into a weapon
this is how it happens
you knocked back sharp, amber liquid
to make this place feel a little more okay
and it only worked halfway
no matter how soft the edges are
you bruise your hips when you
run into them in the dark
you're ******* on your fourth cigarette when
a police officer pulls over and asks
how you're doing today
in the too-bright white of the headlights
the sick taste of Red Stag sticks to
the roof of your mouth
the mouth that you're moving into a smile
the mouth exhaling plumes of smoke at the ground
you're okay
"i'm okay."
you don't tell him what you're really doing
you're really taking all of your
thoughts about stopping your pulse for a walk
you don't tell him you've been
chasing ambulances all night long
please, officer don't leave me alone, you don't say
he tells you to have a good night and drives away
and this is how it happens
the moon smiles at you with every single one
of its tiny, sharp teeth
nobody but your cat finds you in that bathtub
nobody but your cat watches you rise from red water
watches it drip drip drip
from every chasm carved in your left arm
nobody but your cat saw the soft animal of your soul
shiver from the cold that day
it's the first day the temperature
dropped below
thirty-two degrees Fahrenheit inside your chest
based on true events
You
there’s a
thorn
stuck inside
my chest,
it throbs in pain
every ****
time when
someone says
your name


✧˚⁺✧༚⁎˚⁺˳✧
It hurts when it ends.
When everything you have ever needed,
decides it no longer needs you.

When it ends, it's the beginning you think of.
That first memory of it -
a precious bliss;
like sunshine, after a storm.

When it begins, it does not say when it'll end.
It never disclaims the pain you'll go through.
It promises happiness, and joy.
It promises forever.
And when it ends, it's the storm that is forever.
A storm that floods your insides with an eternal agony.

For, when it ends, you wonder;
how can this end -
when it is everything you have ever loved,
and needed?
 Mar 2017 Silently Screaming
Ben
Hammocked on two beanbags
With a glass of cold beer
And a magazine
Splayed across my lap
The silence in the apartment
Making my ears ring
Too many local metal shows
And shooting guns without
Ears on
So now a phantom
Traces a musical triangle in my ear
Always

Just as well
Silence
True silence
Is supposed to drive people
Crazy
And I don't need
Anymore of that

My girlfriend and her roommates
Will be heading back from
Work soon on the subway cars that
Constantly hold the stale smell of
People

"This is nice"
I say outloud
To no one  
And by acknowledging
The moment so I have
Adulterated it

Existential crisis aside  
This is nice
Scars slowly fading away
An urge that feels
Impossible to beat
This battle that is a
Constant loss

Butchered skin waiting
Questioning
Will I be whole?
Should these
Wounds be reopened

Blade is a
Poisonous addiction
Maybe I'm not
Sorry
I started

Couldn't help that
Life got out of control
Aided in the beginning
Refused to let it end

It's sad really
Relapse I mean
Three years
Clean
Blade called out to me

Will it ever be over?
Will I ever stop
Scaring my body

Will I ever
Learn how to
Love this person I am or
Will I die trying to
Figure it out?
So I was looking over Scissors and couldn't edit but thought more needed to be said
It is not in being heard,
but in having spoken,
in hearing your admissions -
the haunting silence broken.
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