handplucked, stared at, silence.
examined front-to-back, indifferent,
and dropped in a cylindrical hell
unlike any other you'd ever know.
subject, object, experiment.
a constant mire of hate, sin,
fear, death, lust. hate.
anything and everything adjacent
to violet highlights in calming sunsets,
a love for what can be despite what is.
inked by the growing bead in your chest
that pulsates when you dream of better,
more, the minimum. pure existence.
the bliss of firing off one round
of expression that might shift the world
and free you.
something you can't know
while others hold the jar and shake you.

I remember meeting you outside the party
our friends were wasted in love
looking for a savior with their bodies
You were sitting, singing a melody I recognised
I remember leaving, crying while drinking your last cup
you were smoking while our song was playing
but we didn't even know each other
The lights paralysed my thoughts
and I was drowning in words that refused to leave my mouth
You were laughing in the car with a girl I called pretty
some hours ago, in front of you
before the incident
I remember writing under the constellations,
in a corner where the lenses couldn't approach me
and the purple and blue flashes only touched pieces of the lunar light.
I remember writing a love song about someone I never met and never will
and then you had the guts to ask me for a cigarette
but I gave you a lighter I always carry around
You saw my tears falling down inside your drink
so you decided to drink my soul instead
The girl I called pretty got hypnotised
by the laughs and the screams inside
and suddenly it was just us
and our heartbeats
I remember meeting you outside the party
but you told me you couldn't see your reflection anymore through my eyes
you told me I was just a girl that stole your sanityand filled it with smoke
and then our heartbeats touched
and the incident happened
and I wasted parts of myself in the kiss we exchanged.
I smiled
I smiled and your lips formed a deeply regretful smirk.
I remember meeting you outside my party
wasted on love or greed or foolishness
or was I just high on hope and delusion?
I chose the wrong substances
and now I'm stuck with your regrets
and your cigarette infused breath you let me taste
I ran to change the song to something everyone likes but me and you.
I danced with our memories
and you danced with your chosen loneliness.
I remember it was the best party
I've ever had
I remember admiring how much you were hurting
I remember lying to myself about feeling shame about it
and it was the last chance I had to remembering you
I vaguely have any memories from all the parties you haven't been since then
but I'm throwing one now
and I know you'll remember it
meet me outside the party.

“I am in the room again.
Heavy heaves come from the machine,
that help make perfect breaths.
Your voice is soft, your hands are warm,
and I see less life than yesterday.
Tears come from my parents eyes and I
I can’t cry.
Yes, my voice is blocked and my eyes burn
But I can’t cry.

Your world isn’t bigger than this tiny room.
The sun won’t shine on your face again.

Your kids are here.
They all came to see you.
It hurts to see them say
goodbye while you sleep.
I can only watch.
I try to put on a brave face.
I still can’t cry.

Tears don’t come to say
how much I miss you already.”

A.V.

Im filled with emotions,
I can no longer speak.
It’s like I’m locked in my own prison,
Emotions struggling to be released.

Within me i am drowning,
But I don my happy face.
An internal war roaring,
Struggling to keep it locked in the safe.

I can not allow myself to loosen yet,
Rarely am I allowed to.
Through the day i make it through,
It’s my happy mask that talks to you.

I wish I can let the feelings out,
As they trickle in.
All day the inside prisoners shout,
Grasping and clawing at my skin.

From time to time, late at night,
Raw words from a song will pierce the wall.
The feelings are flicked on like a light,
surrendering myself to the abyss as I fall.

There is a child
Who follows everywhere I go.
Late at night I hear him crying,
Yet my family stirs not.

When he cries,
I’m bound in a straightjacket,
stitched with silence
and the things I don’t know how to say.

I tell him to stop,
But he never listens.
So I muffle his sobs with a pillow
And hide him beneath my blanket

Sometimes he comes out during the day
Wailing for all the world to hear.
I tape his mouth shut
And wait until his tears won't be seen

You ask why were not best friends....
when all you did today was comment on every mistake I made
Told me I had to fix my hair every time a strand got away
saying it wasn't good enough
In so many ways it meant I wasn't good enough
you asked why I hated you....
when I've never left loved by you
You told me I was being ridiculous
'after everything I've done for you' you started saying
I didn't hear what came after, the tears welling in my eyes and burn clogging my throat just a loud buzz in my ear drums
You told me I was in some sort of power house mood and couldn't be talked too....
but what if I've never been able to talk to you I just hid it better when I was younger?
Your always saying how the things I do aren't me....
wow, you must really not know me
the criticism is a lot weighting down on my shoulders but everything's fine I'll just roll my eyes
I sometimes wonder how you don't see me crying every night in my bed?
or if you know and just don't care?
You must notice how your words could cut through steel?
how every time you say something my eyes water?
I want to apologize but it's not my fault
everything hurts all the time
but how am I supposed to let go when I learned from a very young age that being judged by your mother is the worse pain of all....

My heartlet is crying, crying.
It means it’s hurt of lying.
It means it’s been stepped on again.
Its faith has been killed disdain.

And again it’s like an abandoned whelp
In a field of unmown grass with no help,
Is looking for path and crying, crying.
It means it’s in lots of pain. It’s dying.

'Don't cry' They'd say
'You cry too much' They'd say
'Crying is weak' They'd say
'You're too sensible' They'd say
'You're such a crybaby' They'd say
'You're too much' They'd say
I was 9 but I felt broken
I stopped showing my sadness
Bottling it all up
I dare not cry
'Crying is bad' I'd tell myself
'I'm proud of you for not crying' They'd say
BUT
Crying is NOT bad
Crying is HEALTHY
Crying is a STRENGTH
Feeling deep is a GIFT
I know that now