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CNM Nov 2018
I.
once you fed me a magic fungus
you wove me a hat
to keep me warm from the cold
we walked outside
the night twinkling
holding hands melding into the earth
melding into each other
we came home
you breathed into my hands
and as you ran me a bath
I saw the violence in myself
the red lines down my legs
a reminder
of how i'd been hurt
and you understood
holding me in the hot water
we boiled with our tears
into a healing broth full of hope

II.
i was so young before
so hurt
nothing's changed except
you dont feel here anymore
you feel as far as your new home
even when you're directly beside me
our entire lives by each other's side
only to be torn apart
left to my own devices
i feel you missing everyday
but not the you that sleeps in a tiny town
the you that slept next to me
when I thought nothing could take you away from me.
CNM Oct 2018
I am still angry. My therapist said its okay to still be angry, that I reserve the right to be. I never learned how to feel anger the right way...I only become reminded of my father slamming the front door and the soft sobs as my mother begs him to calm down. Anger is often justified, but where the **** do I put it? I am not my father. Even though I'd like to I can't scream at you and I can't slam a door on what you did to me. Even though I'd like to I can't go back and stop your hand from hitting me across the face, I can't kick and scream until you got off of me. You're not my father but you were so much worse. You never showed anger, you only pinned me down with your words, and with your disgustingly muscular arms. You left me crying quietly in your bathroom while I try to cover up what you had done to me. You made me never want to leave because you were the world, and I'd be dead without the world. Well, I didn't die. I became addicted to the rattling of a pill canister and I shed the weight you put on me in only a few weeks. But you left me kicking and screaming inside. And I am still angry.
CNM Sep 2018
after him
i became
a sick ghost
passing through time
hardly making a sound
afraid of being discovered
by an exorcist full of spite
I used to be made of flesh and blood
Until he made me bleed out
And ***** out all my insides
CNM Sep 2018
I felt the wind blowing through your bones that December
I wiped up your blood from the floors and wrapped your wounds
Tightness in my eyes and throat made me hold you tighter
Only one blanket on your mattress on the floor of your apartment
I would have died without your warmth
You would have died without my worry
Not much to our names despite the mountain of comfort between us both
Feet bleeding and exhausted
I could sleep anywhere if it was in your arms
Even without a single blanket
Without a single pillow
How could I need anything more
When the universe put everything
We could ever need
Into each other
This is dumb but im in love
CNM Sep 2018
I call you and he answers
And I can't find you in all of the darkened rooms in this house
But I need to feel that you're breathing
That you are still existing with me
And that you have a bed and home to embrace you when I can't
The thought of you losing this makes me feel a failure
If I could I would become your blankets
I would become floorboards and dry wall
And a roof to keep you dry
But I'm just a lucky little girl
With only enough to keep herself warm

I never feel like eating again I never feel like indulging again
Yet in the morning I'll have to wake up and smile again
And my past keeps catching up to me and stepping on my heels
Until I'm barefoot tearing up my feet on the concrete
Until it hurts to run away

I'm a broken record telling you it'll be okay, it'll be okay
When my feet are covered in blood
And I can't even stand on my own
CNM Aug 2018
physically sick
feeling like i'd love to break out of this physical shell
digging drilling further further into my brain
into nauseating omniscience
impersonal detachment
from my own self that I thought I knew so well
until faced with insurmountable complexity
and a sadistic torturous mind

i've spent days falling in and out of sleep
no sunlight
except what comes through the windows of my childhood bedroom
maybe if I dream enough he will cease to exist

I close my eyes
And as I look up he is everywhere I look
he is everything I see
standing staring back at me
the stare like needles to my eyes
I try to look away
but I forget to not look up in only a moment
and there he is again

and again

maybe if I cease to exist he will too
CNM Aug 2018
Lately I've been driving in my car by myself
The night sky reflecting off the empty streets
That I convince myself belong to me
Until the lights of another car remind me that everything is shared
And I'm moving in montages, in sequences as the lazy strums of a guitar match my existing beat
And I know where I'm going, the path opens up to me each turn I take
But I have no idea what I'll do when I reach my dark, quiet home
Full of people, yet I'm the only one awake, in this reality that feels just as far away as their dreams
I'm alone in my shower when it warms my skin and melts the ways I tried to distract myself today
A heavy comfort I cannot fully accept within my melancholy
I walk into my hollow room, becoming the only life inside
I begin to search for the meaning of Narcissism
But stop myself because I know a picture of you would appear
Like the one in my journal with your eyes crossed out
And they say eyes are the window to the soul
But those are not windows
Those are prison cells
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