Under the bitter sunshine,
You had to beg me to be still.
Still I could not contain my thoughts
Of how all these things had come and gone.

So, people the boards with those who play their parts,
Those who no longer want to feel strong.
We wither under your watchful gaze,
We crumble under your wrath and scorn.

We didn’t choose to have our hearts
So empty, yet so full of dirt.
I didn’t want to drink my weight
In this poison of my father’s choice.

Now as we lay in broken beds,
Not alone, but still apart,
I will dream upon that summer’s day
And lament the loss of your civility.

Binging and smoking
With foolish prance
Instant combustion
Meandering across barrier lines
In less than sixty seconds
Smashing, cringing and choking
Euphoric blunder
Six feet under

tonight
he is going to go drink himself to sleep
and I am going to lay here
with only my regret to keep me company.

Closing my eyes, I sit on my chair with tea,
sipping and cupping my chai with please.
Its cinnamon scent wafts through the air,
sending pleasant shivers everywhere.

Hints of cardamon slide down my throat with ease,
the musky mix of spices and black tea.
Slowly, I release my back to rest comfortably,
on the back of the old chair, that my mother gave me.

maybe you're never going to have a fairy-tale ending;
maybe your dreams of stained-glass windows will shatter before they can fully form;
but i promise you that you'll be happy.
someday you will find that person you've been waiting for,
that person who fills up the cracks you didn't know you had,
you'll drink good drinks and eat good food,
you'll laugh the laughs you weren't always sure that you deserved.
i know you've been hurt
and you've given hurt
but that doesn't exempt you from a happy ending.
maybe it won't be the kind you thought you wanted,
but life, my darling, is sometimes so much better than dreams.

In this summer heat, I've been drinking for days.

Drink to numb an unknown anxiety.

In a notification I saw today's date.

And I remembered, I remembered all of it..

In three days it's been a year.

A year since he took away my freedom.

Since he put his hands on my body.

Three days from now will be the mark of when something in me broke.

Something that can never be healed.

Sweat mixed with tears run down my face.

Just like that night.