Dead of night
doubt wraps me tight—
like damp clothes on skin,
taking the air
leaving me shrunk
beneath the weight.

Fell into a tunnel
with no sign of light
I keep walking,
chasing my way out.
Every cut swears to
stir the results

Did you love me?
Or was it just my laughter at your jokes—
my habit of giggling, even at your half-shady pokes?

Did you love me?
Or did I just have the time?
Did you think, “Yeah, she’s not half bad. This could be just fine.”

Did you love me?
Or were you just scared—
tired of doing life alone, craving a body that cared?

Was it real for you? Or just another game?
Was I a plot point in your story
because the chapters had gotten tame?

These thoughts still haunt me—
and the truth I’ll never know.
Mostly because I’d never ask—
and I wouldn't survive you saying “no.”

As kinetic chaos surges,
Each atom flings outward,
From my marrow’s middle,
Toward the gates of my skin.

The brittle shell
holding me together
Threatens to burst,
While the entropy
pinging down my limbs
commands me into motion.

Boiling toward a peak within,
the cigarette clenched in hand
Becomes my means to bleed it.

Voices inside my head seem endless
Different faces in each phase
I am trying to save my last breath as if I'm drowning
I tried to free a single word, but nothing escaped.
I am no one, I am nothing
Those were my thoughts as I picked you up at the counter.
Finally, freedom!

My bleeding heart was waiting
For one inhale of the love
The love that was fading away
With each exhale

My ribs were cracking
With each punch of the cruel words
Whispered by my mind

Eyes were crying
Each drop of tear felt heavy
Carrying out the ache

Heartbeat felt like warning
To my body to stop this war
My brain was a total mess
Not functioning at all

The bleeding heart was shrinking
The veins holding it
Were now too weak
The bones of the ribs
Were scattered over the red ground

Now the time has stopped
But the heart is still beating
As if mocking the body
Which was now free
Of the war
Of the soul
Of everything...

these aren't my hands
at least they don't feel like they are
I don't recognise my voice
or the name they call me
but I know it's mine

when I touch my leg
the hand feels like someone else's
I dig a hole into my arm
and I feel nothing

the world looks fake
flat, digital
incorrect reflections
correct imperfections
I try to fix it