do you hear that?

the sound of my heart

beating loudly

and passionately

just for you?

or is the sound of

your insults

too loud for you

to concentrate

on more than my

appearance?

you said i was hurting you
for how i made,
and yes i must've made,
your fingers cramp
when your nails gripped my skin.

you said the blood on your hands was yours
but we both knew better.

How am I to teach myself
that rage is not love
that abuse is not love
that hurt is not love
that forcefulness is not love
when that is all i have ever known

when you are gentle
you do not speak in anger
you never raise your voice
you always smile
you always make me laugh
only kindness ever leaves your mouth


i feel like a child again when i am with you
before all the badness took over my life

i am hard
rough around the edges

but you
oh my you

you are so soft
your edges aren't even edges at all
they're soft landings

like the way a dandelion falls
onto the grass so gracefully
in the middle of spring

you are my hope again

you are my new beginning

One time I wrote a poem about you and it went viral
Now 6,000 people know you treated me like I was garbage
Now 6,000 people know how you hurt me without using your hands
Now 6,000 people are aware that you damaged my mental health more than anyone else
Now 6,000 people know that you made me cry every single day
Now 6,000 people felt my pain through my words
Now 6,000 people get to know that you did not lay a hand on me but still left me abused and scarred

One time I wrote a poem about you and it was so well received
Now 6,000 people support my every day struggle to stay strong
Now 6,000 people have shown love to me even though they do not even know my last name
Now 6,000 people are there for me in ways you never were
Now 6,000 people are able to talk about how they felt the way I felt and never want to feel those aches again
Now 6,000 people may have the courage to battle a villain like you
Now 6,000 people may be able to stand up to severe abuse like I finally was able to

There is a difference between holding your breath
And not breathing at all
One takes a lot more effort
One is the product of carrying too much
The other of carrying nothing at all

When I walk into a crowded room
I will hold my breath until my lungs find a reason to relax
My face will flush and I will eye the exits
And I will imagine any possible scenario that would allow me to leave
Which is to say,
I’d rather be in danger than be here

I’d rather be in a secluded single bed hospital room
Than brushing shoulders with conversations that don’t concern me
Smiling uncomfortably to an offensive joke because
You don’t know me enough to know the fire in my bones
That I could ignite and burn you to the ground.

You also don’t know how I wish I could extinguish that
How I burn down everything I touch
How I wish my embers would die down
Lacking oxygen might not be the worst thing

No, being alone in a crowded room wouldn’t either
Saying unironically that I stand alone in a crowded room
As if it has never been said before- might just be
Or maybe my sparks are burning this poem up too
Ruining its changes

You gotta understand,
The thing about fire is
It is a beautiful beast
A chaotic dancer who knows both sides of
Everything beautiful and everything not


In my eyes fire eats its beauty
It eats the life from inside out as it spits remnants of relics
Too tough to melt
So when we are in the flames
Like our salem sisters we think
How can something
so grand
So intriguing
So important
Be burnt down by a people so ignorant
Only to reveal what is truly important
How could you not see that as a compliment

How can you not see that we are all the flames
And that we are all also being eaten by them
As we consume everything around us in turn
And that maybe we just need to catch our breath.

my friends watched, as I tore the madness from my skin.
this is a battle I’ll never win.
and maybe I don’t want to
so thanks for not caring
going out with yesterdays makeup
no one cares what you are wearing
when all they want to do is soak you
in all the liquor they can find
and all the drugs to make you unwind
because then they know you’ll be easier to take advantage of
you don’t rise above
you think you deserve to be hurt
you black out and wake up with bruises all over your wrists and arms
you don’t remember a thing,
then you get a text saying,
last night was fun

-last night wasn’t fun if you had to hold me down

I came home for the weekend and realized i am still in love with you.
i don’t know why this came as a shock,
because this  happens every time i come home.
especially in the autumn.
nostalgia really hits,
and i find myself walking in the neighborhood you held my hand in,
going to the cemetery you kissed me in
and driving by your neighborhood on the way to get coffee.
i guess i feel pathetic more than anything-
repeating to myself
“it doesn’t feel like two years ago. i can still feel your breath on my neck.”
i don’t tell my mother-
but that doesn’t hide the fact i was crying in my bedroom.
when the weekend is over, i find myself slugging to my dorm room, without a thought of you in my mind.
autumn is almost over.
i wont be home for another three weeks.
i repeat this to myself as i walk to get a cup of coffee.
pour over.
dark roast.
anything to make me feel warm and fuzzy.
something bitter.
my soul was pastel purple when i met you,
the perfect combination of blues and reds.
now it is a dark navy blue,
i smoke a cigarette on the way back,
i wonder which one would be easier to give up.
as i open the door to my room nothing feels familiar,
my bed has held people who are not you-
they were supposed to make forgetting easier.
they didn’t.
i turn on my bathtub
and stick my feet in long enough to burn my skin
your favorite song plays on repeat inside of my head,
i look at the coffee sitting next to me-
and wonder-
i take off the lid and pour it onto my head,
it slowly flowing off the edges of my face,
filling my nostrils until it’s all the room smells like-
i don’t feel anything,
no warmth-
no fuzziness-
you were all those things-
you - burned my skin when you touched me.
i remember all the times i said no,
but the coffee surged onto my scalp anyway.
you fill the room,
this is how i remember not to miss you.

I remember the way the ice looked on the street that night.

The dullness of poorly lit lights paired with too much Seagrams 7 made it shine just enough to mesmerize sunken eyes.
Mine.

Just enough to convince you to stay.
Just enough it convinced me to stay.
Again, In the home I couldn't seem to escape.
Didn’t want to escape.

Back inside, dodging objects to stay alive.
Different sizes, different aims.
It was not just a game.

The monster I somehow loved,
dragging me away from all that is and was real.  
I thought he was real.

The same monster who didn't love me,
slipping away,
in that cold house,
on that icy street.

To be in love and to be loved are far from the same,
like you and me.  

Get away,
Before the ice is really the one to blame.

Why am I nostalgic,
For something that hasn't even occurred?
Why am I worried I'll lose you
But yet I won't even say a word.

Am I Caesar, and you my Brute?
Will you, whom I love
Deliver to me that devastating blow?
That ultimate betrayal of a stab in attack

"Es tu, Brute?"
As I begin to waver, quake, and fall.
I breath heavily, but I will not bawl.
I will hold my head high and collapse when I can no longer stand tall.
Knowing it is you who has made that call.

If you asked
I would never leave your side
Forever following,
By only your command, would I abide
Your faithful servant, your loyal slave
Your obedient puppy, whose path you pave
Whose life you save

Ask whatever you wish
I will hold no secrets from you
My solemn flower whose life blossoms by pale light of the darkened moon.
In your solitude, I offer up my servitude
I bask in your backwards beauty
and exquisitely aromatic scent

If you said
"Devote your life solely to me"
I would silently agree with no alternative pleas.
"Stand by my side through the Dark in the Night,
And stay by my side through the Light in the Sky."
I would gladly abide.

Who am I to go against your every Will, Whim, and Wish?
You, whose very whimsical whisper and sweetened shout I longingly miss.
I will blindly follow any and all commands
For you who delicately intertwines fingers or desperately grasps hands.
Lightly gracing me with your attention or violently demanding my affection.

Regardless of which path you travel down
I love it all
With you I feel safe and sound
I will gladly take and give

It is after all my job to obey
No matter what it is you say.

"Get me food."
Gladly
"Be my shade."
Gladly
"Help me with work."
Gladly
"Stop hanging out with them."
Gladly.
"Tell me you love me."
Gladly.
"Fight them for me."
Gladly.
"Hurt yourself for me."
Gladly.
"**** for me."
Gladly.
"Live for me."
Gladly
. . .
"Die."
Gladly.