when someone looks at me,
is my introduction what

they think theyd get?

theres gotta be more to me then this cell-
not just the clumps of cells i project,
but the prison within.

atleast windows are reliable,
no wonder about a double standard,
when both sides are see through and sane.

so many others have been locked in this same cell
it doesnt make me feel better as

im still here alone.

expect for the voices in my head
a imposter in my cell-
hovering in the corner,
the crack in the wall.

as i cry this imposter laughs at my vulnerability
my biggest hater.

my stomach twist says every flaw is right to be torn apart
a tornado building-

no flaw untouched.
the house that supports my head
aches already
i wish the tornado would take that too.

when the words dont come out of my mouth,

is what they see what they get?

i dissociated from myself a long time ago
my conscience is

floating.

hanging
from the rope i tied years ago
the real me wanted to summit to
the knife.

under my unicorn pillow,
not sharp but
cut to ease.

red cut the blue
and lines deepen with my smile
my wrist still stings even though
im clean.

im see through like long sleeves and slit wrists,
but more so like stained glass-
colorful and full of illusion.

clear windows are bland
but atleast theyre reliable.

My thoughts tell me
Every day who I was
And who I'd be
In this threadlike tomb
Up above my fine pedestal
A myriad of thoughts and ideas

Love comes to me each night 🌙
And to the skies she points
My lover is a fairy,an angel
And she tells it all in her smiles
Even from miles I know she thinks
And feels how inadvertently feeble it is
To be away when yet we were next to each other..

Her breath and snores in the nighttime made me laugh
O you told me all she's a beauty and more

And in the morning sorrow comes knocking
On the doors my heart
He says you have lost a lover
Have you not shed enough tears?
Do you think you'd ever find true love in another?
No I'd blink an eye
All made in silly sighs

My grandma she died
Just when I could tell a lie
That Pain was a blessing and how selfish her children held onto her
Wishing never to depart

And yet when the day finds it way home
To the stars it went
Hope comes with renewal
Wallowing around my bile
He says work hard don't let it pile
And I'm strong by this feeling
Wishing it never left
How do you give  strength and walk away when I'm most happy?

All but sounds silly
Belief to my soul
Love to my heart
And sorrow on dusty days
My life has felt..
None the less of silly thoughts
Hidden in threads of blood and brain

i'm like when 2 am ferociousness met with 5 am alarm
smudged off the **** nuance off the corner of my lips in the dark

back home, drained, phone lighting up except it's not who i missed
make changes, perfect the scars — wipe out the traces that exist
feels like a music video, no cameras anywhere in sight
but i feel them watching, and with every reflex i hope to hide

multiple versions like blind spots behind the walls
were the masks always as potent as planned for them was?

surreal sometimes, watching it slip
i pull the cloak over, can't let it flip
for even a second, for it carries my whole identity
if they truly saw — saw truly for who i am
i don't think they'd even recognize me
faking pills, anti-calamides, the entirety of my existence
look at pictures on my walls, to lose grip over any remaining hesitance

it's in stages
when it happens
undoing my skin, zipping it down and stepping out to breathe
during the nights when it gets as real as it can
i look at my wardrobe, it's filled with masks
who should i be for the day? choosing is a dire task
one that i must achieve, tally all the previous repeats
and it's never the same — midway through, i have to tear myself apart to hold my coop

signs, watch for them
like ants leaving behind a trail to follow
dropping crumbs even tho all they wish to do is swallow
can't carry it all, no matter how much they can borrow
there's moments when it flickers
everything bare just for a second and the world seems to hold
as if waiting, hide it away — telling me — hide yourself whole
this is your chance, run, or settle down
wait, or burn yourself out
extinguishing a flame is impossible when you give the oxygen
give it all to aggravate
in the end, how dare u cry for all the mess it made?
can't kiss the flame, why get close to it in the first place?

there's rainbow fumes slipping through the blacks
the radio playing the album's sixth track
the board up says take right
but there's a figure standing right midway
vision turning bright red, it flashes white
x-rays me through, i can't see the eyes
but they tell me a tale i've long since held
been rotting in the prison for so long
even the wind seems to snap

your eyes speak
like butterflies held in watery imagery
like that one store open 24/7 for the hungry
resembling a payphone hanging off its cord
the voice echoing, "knock knock knock"
you loom in between the dimensions
almost floating, with dragonflies in your palms
stretched out towards me
there's a puddle of rainwater on the ground
a gas burner bright blue and white in the faded background
the screens flash with errors and figures
they walk past, like fishes swimming in an aquarium
the neons slip through the eyes
irises fading into a silvery crash
thousands of people drift by
barely a hundred holding hands
distance separates, time forgives
forgetting is like looking deep into the liminal
knowing there's no ending to this beginning

the streets aren't all too familiar
the buildings carry lives that speak
their windows tell stories — a dozen different endings
the sunshine falls a certain way
creating grey memories across the streets
do shadows overlap each other?
multiple questions — the answers to which lie in the mist

i could scan your eyes
find the me's that exist, see if u see me the way i do
check for pictures in your wallet, in your camera
in your feed, in your head — on your body, on you
but knowing i can't describe it all
describe them for you, i can't seem to stand tall
i'm afraid for you, seeing you walk out
is perhaps the best chance i can take
but a miserly one at that, it's a coward's mistake

should i count them out?
on fingers, i'd say just three
there's more — but facets to multiple sympathies
the major ones though, i call them the protectors

one exists — borderline deceitful
never aiming to hurt, keeping peace closed off
in a loophole, almost
living in boundaries
closed off, hiding in plain sight
having created doors, windows nailed shut
speaking in controversies
it preaches to protect the soul

there's another —
the publicised centre
lives empathetically
provides requests, hearing pleading
walking epiphanies
the bored, tired, sleepy version
meeting eye to eye
smile for smile
never faking, but never loosening the knots either
tie the loose ends just right

the remaining, the original
is a psychological art house
chaotic, musing, no doubt in the dark clouds
writing warfare of the minds
speaking soft, almost gullible
closest, truest, no boundaries like the previous
she lives as she breathes
grief filled in the soul
with a happy-to-go personality
i believe she's the one
except she hides beneath all that is dust
drifting through the mess she's become
it's calming, silent, wrecking havoc amidst
stench of sugar, candied crushes and humor
psychic tutorials, rafting rows of water
she lives in nightmares,
daydreams — almost as if there were none

I knew that you planned to leave,
after all my text were left unread,
And you'd stop calling me every night,
it spoke the word you were afraid to,
so I did for you,
asking you why,
what had gone wrong,
And if it was my fault,
but you apologized,
and said it was you,
not me,
which I knew was a lie,
since you're just too kind to tell me.

Walk of the wanton & the reckless,
Dark hallways down those overgrown aisles.
On either end of the political spectrum,
Where festers extremism.

Isles our youth sail to
Before dry the oceans.
Ideas which give way to ideologies
Which therein invite communities
People become entrenched and/or trapped in.

Ravines they claim valleys,
Molehills they pronounce mountains.
Conspiracy & alternate history,
Anti-democratic & superstitious beliefs.
Issues which have little to no attachment to reality,
Arguments repeated which perpetuate only apathy - discord.

Victims of a Maze of & of not
Of their own invention.
Minotaurs, as "monsters,"
Of & of not of their own creation.
These lost to the "Trails."

Fueled by ignorance,
But consumed by arrogance;
Burned in apathy -
Short-lived confusion.

Stay compassionate,
Remain patient.

I had an idea
  Of what to write
                          say
                        recor­d
But got lost
like a rabbit who took
the wrong turn at Albuquerque—
and so I’m lost for words,
but here I am.