I'm just a writer.

Nothing more, but never less.
I know my worth, while you ******* stretch.
I have the cards and I have the gun
you have no clue what distress can do.

Be my buddy or be muse
Just leave me alone
If you think I'll lick the blood from your rotten wounds.

It was a few weeks and we fell high in love
I sat and gazed while he took the plunge.
I loved whenever our hands interlaced,
just delicately resting on the same gun.

Why do I still miss you?
I miss the way you talked to me so sweet
Told me that I was so pretty,
The way I o            p            e            n            e            ­d my legs for you.

I knew it was wrong.
It felt so wrong.
But I was so lonely, and something in my ****** up mind said it was right.

And so, I came back.
And when I couldn't, I turned to others, tried to replicate that feeling.
And now I can't even do that.

I feel disgusting for what I did.
They say, I was only 10, I didn't know any better.
But I did. I know I did.
And I feel guilty for painting myself as the victim.
I mean, he didn't force me,
He didn't split me open.
He never even touched me.
He just turned me into a puppet
and
had me do it myself
with
a camera in front.
...

I still miss you,
No, crave for you.
For those words that
dripped sweet like
the slick between
                               thighs
my
                                                              ey­es
your
                                                         ­                                    ****.

Why do I still miss you?

When you did respond,
you told me that you were sorry.
That you were
alive.
I think you understood where my worry came from.

I asked you where you had been,
and you said that you were just doing school and sleeping.
It was another depressive episode.

Oh, well.

I feel bad to feel relieved,
But
It could've been worse.
You could've
Cut too deep
Or stayed in bed
Or skipped your meds
Or taken too many...

You could've
Left me.

I said sorry for being such a bother,
Said that "I hope you feel better."
And even though thats not quite right thing to say,
But I think that's the closest I could've gotten.

I'm sorry, really.
I hadn't meant to bother you by
Messaging you everyday for a week,
Each following one more frantic than the last,
Because you wouldn't respond.

I was scared.
Really, really scared.
Scared that you had done something to yourself...

Scared that, maybe, you
Stayed in bed too long
Cut to deep
Went too many days without eating
Too many days skipping your meds-
Or maybe, took all your skipped pills all at once---

It's irrational, I know.
I'm sorry.

I remember, I've done this before,
I was... 10, it was 2020.
I remember, my best friend, Kaydence, wouldn't respond to my texts
for a month.
We had fought,
It was some stupid Minecraft game.
And then, she just
Stopped texting
Back.

I was lonely, it was quarantine after all, and I didn't have no one else to talk to.
I texted her every single day
Cried every single day.
I was being dramatic, obviously,
I'm always so **** dramatic.

When she came back, she acted like nothing had happened.
Her mom had just taken away her phone, or something.
I didn't have to worry.

...I think that month I spent, alone
Thats when it had started to get bad.

I once checked into an old hotel
that’s served guests for many a year.
The white-clad staff will serve you well
and greet you brimming with cheer.

Its handsome brick and stone façade
shines gold in the bright morning sun.
Inside, the red velvet furnishings’ a nod
to the lovers’ tall tales there spun.

The rooms are filled with patchouli scent,
or perhaps with a strong note of musk.
At first you’ll easily make the rent
and stay there from dawn until dusk.

Oh, how well could I in that chamber sleep
on starry fields of Elysium each night,
my baggage packed in cotton I’d keep
to stow it from whatever gave fright.

But the longer this hospitality I had
the more a locked hospital it became;
the doors that’d welcomed this young lad
soon rusted, harder to open again.

I chatted with the friendly concierge
and noticed the crease of his smile
was curled into the quirk of a sneer
while his light humor shifted to bile.

The mattress that once was thick and soft
grew coarse and lumpy with age
while the vistas seen from the gilded loft
were obscured by the bars of a cage.

The red velvet’s colors began to bleed.
All was gilded with the gold of fools.
Once this hotel had for me filled a need —
but it sought to make me its ghoul.

This hostel had to hostile turned,
its host was revealed as a warden.
With time I learned its charms to spurn
and escape to a greener garden.

Even now that hooking hotel calls,
a sultry siren who woefully wails
and summons her guests — or thralls? —
to deep sleep in her heavenly jail.

Romanticism is
Melancholic at best
Always daydreaming
Each one a test

I'm a hopeless optimist,
Some may say.
Tossing petals on a silly rose,
wasting the day.

The idea of love,
So open and free
Thought provoking, mysterious
Until it gets to me.

Then I recall,
Why I prefer being alone.
It's hard to find peace,
In someone else's home.

By home, I mean mind
Two becomes one
You both have to share it
To simply enjoy the sun

Idiosyncrasies,
Start to synchronize
The way we view life
Is seen through one set of eyes

We become a machine,
Two bodies and one brain
A lovely entanglement
Loneliness has been slain.

You passed the test,
And you've set me free,
But only through binding,
The concept of 'you and me'

Romanticism is
Melancholic at best
Until the real thing comes,
And starts a fire in my chest.

What opportunity you were to me
You were a lesson I thought was luck
Allowed to dip myself into your sweet honey
Not realizing that I would be even more stuck.

The pain I’ve gained by playing your games
Had me come out knowing better, real from fake.
I had been too willing to please you
Wanting you to say “I need you”

Because otherwise how was I to prove I’m worthy
Before I realized you’re not meant to be my trophy.

I felt lucky to have you,
Because it felt good to have something
Until I realized the hurt isn't worth
Losing all of me over simply nothing.

I believed the red flags were tests
To prove myself more capable than the rest
Learned love should not be a battle
With my suffering a requisite

Thanks to you, I figured out
What true love is all about.
I'll never cry again, the way for you I did.

A string tied you and me,
We were the best of friends and enemies.
We hurt eachother like no other unknowingly.

I've cried a lot in my life,
from laughter and all kinds of strife,
but never the way I've cried because of you.

You've brought meaning to my gaze,
Picked me up and told me it was okay.
I'd cling to you, your words like an embrace.

You've stitched wounds and cut me deep,
I'll always remember the secrets we'd keep, Thanks to you, for all our highs and lows

Because of you I'll always know,
just how far I can go.