cigarette ash burns into my skin
an exposé of the number of times
i've ****** something up
    one for some beer
    one for some ***
    one for trying to take the only life i've got
    one for sneaking out
    one for the bag i packed
    another for all the traits that I lack
my lungs are already a graveyard
i must heave to welcome oxygen
but i don't think i care anymore
dust has made its home in my airways
and the embers on skin is my destructive healing
bit by bit, burn by burn
I write an apology letter across my flesh
but i fear i do not have enough surface area
maybe one day, my skin will be nothing
but a sheet of burns and blisters
and those around me won't be able
     to stand the sight of me

"Black Man Murders White Cop!"
"White Man Shoots Up Black Church!"
"School Shooter Targets Christians!"
Media paints the canvas of
The world in black and white.

The canvas is torn and taped
Back together; the cracks filled
In and covered up, like they were
Never there. Ignorance is bliss, and
What isn't seen isn't there, right?

Unfortunately, the thirst for
Hatred erased all of the
Colors of the rainbow, and
Pitted the remaining, black and
White, against each other.

It's impossible to paint the entire
World in one color and expect
It to be beautiful, unique, diverse.
One cannot just take away the colors
That are vital to such a masterpiece.

Regurgitated images of you
Smiling at her,
(the way you smile at me)
Staring at her;
(the way you used to stare at me)
My stomach is queasy; my soul aches.

The heated fingertips of envy and
Anguish gently brush the hair
From my eyes, leaving the sensation
That I'm on fire. I am on fire;  my
Golden heart, now molten metal, heats
Every inch of this vessel; I am turning to ash.

Second guessing is something you've always
Beem good at, and you swore to
Never use it in me. But sitting across the room
From you, watching you watch her  made
It clear. I was never any good at
Getting first place; second best is home to me.

Poisoning rage is swimming in my
Veins;  desolation echoes throughout the
Cracks in my lungs and chest. Melancholy
Seeps into my soul like the first rain of
Spring. This barren landscape is engulfed by
The malignity. What am I supposed to do?

Every time you touch me, I wonder
If you wish you were touching her.
When you press your lips to my neck, I
Wonder if you're trying to imagine her scent.
When you're mumbling sweetly in your Dreams, I question if you're dreaming of her.

Hearts are supposed to be strong, and
My soul is supposed to stand on its own,
But Jesus Christ, I'm crumbling.
How can I get these foul images out of
My over active brain?  How can I accept
That I'm only going to finish in second place?

Spinning, spinning, spinning;
I'm getting sick and I feel
Too dizzy. I was not made
For this uncontrollable whirl.

Things haven't been as they
Were, and I'm not sure if it's
The changing time, or the change
In me, that is so unsettling.

Creatures peel through my brain,
Poking fun at my deepest insecurities,
And bringing them to life.
(I googled how to get rid of them.)

Their static fingers pry open scars
That have long healed, leaving
A brand new wound.
(Google couldn't find an answer.)

I just can't seem to grasp how
I feel so ******* alone, cradled in
His warm arms; I can't begin to
Explain that I love him so much it hurts.

Two battles raging in my head,
A fight that I didn't consent to,
And I'm left to pick up the broken
Pieces of who I used to be.

The problem with this war is
That it's at a stand-still.
Neither side has the strength to  
Keep fighting, although it's crucial.

I'm begging for its end, so I
Can begin to understand;
Understand love, beauty, myself.
I miss knowing who I was.