My brain operates like my messaging skills
Typed out my heart.
Deleted every word.
Forgotten.

I suppose I should cling to what I feel
But the moment they surface they feel
Too unreal
So I delete them from my head
Watch them until they're dead
Forget that it's ok to feel

do what makes you happy
and the rest be ******

forget the critics
the naysayers
the reviews

forget those who pounce
at first glance with
unsolicited feedback

forget those who wait
with serrated edges
for the unveiling
of your back

forget those who lambaste
and castrate your creativity

or worse, those who
try to help you
improve it

and then there are those who
uplift and support your work

say thank you
and
forget them
too.

forget about polishing the knobs
off the editors of poesy or
the literary brotherhood
and sisterhood

forget about your friends,
your enemies and
your audience
all together

they are a cough drop
trying to cure an illness

do it
the way it was meant to be done:
without obtrusion
without approval
without asking

don’t allow them
to cloud your mind
with judgment
of any kind

do what makes you happy
and the rest be ******.

As you step into my world, forget the girl
I once was. here I'm a goddess. Here
I'm seen.
The bright lights shine on my face,
on my spirit. and fear leaves my body.
The music starts, possessing me.
i sway to the tune, melodies controlling
my movement.
From my smile, raw and genuine, a
song comes out: an old song.
it's a sad song.
a song of love.
it's a tragedy.
Watch me sing it anyway.
for past my glossy eyes,
my soul has never felt more alive.
but when you leave, forget what you've seen.
go back to knowing nothing about me.

sometimes,
late at night,
memories drizzle from our eyes
and roll down our cheeks.
unable to forget
no matter how much it hurts

what if we actually committed to our
pleasures
and engage in potent intrusive thoughts
what if i opened my head and let you hear
the whispers of my desires
would you listen?
i caress the right side of your face
pull myself into your pierced ears
and i tell you that im corrupted
through my veins isn't blood
i do not bleed red
i've bled out completely
ive bled out on others who didn't pierce me
with a blade
on other's who didn't cut me
and i tell you that
i've traveled hours from home
and attempted to grab my last breath
in a new city
I can never get away from myself

What if we became what we are so afraid to feel
let's lose any sense of ground
we thought we stood upon
what if we became the people who hurt us
and let hurt do what it does best
i caress the left side of your face
and pull myself into your bare ear

and i tell you that im angry
ive been angry at so many things that
i was never upset about to begin with
and that there's this vexation
i begin to whisper so quietly with loud words
i tell you i want to disappear
i tell you i want to get away from the things
that wreck my mind
but i stand hand in hand
in comfort with my pain because she is the only
one who knows me inside in.

But what if we let go of the hand that hurts us
learn to forgive ourselves for experiencing
the good type of pain that feels goods
and ruins you
what if become what we deeply wanted
a vessel of happiness
a symbol of healing
what if we accepted what society could not
and pour into ourselves and sew up our own wounds
I caress myself
i push back my hair
feel my lips and stare at my reflection
i lean forward
and I tell myself that im sorry.

i don’t believe in who you are anymore
now that my shoes have holes the size of dimes
and the drunk is still wearing off
and coming back from time to time.
wonder if the pressure ever ceases.
wonder if your heart feels empty
on a rainy night
or when i write,
wonder if your mind keeps spinning dreams
where i’m on the fence and the dogs are in the yard
and love isn’t scary when you’ve stared down the barrel of it for so long.
you ever wonder if your heart might stop one day,
ever wonder why the shame builds walls around us
and yet we keep dancing around it with our old shoes?
i don’t wonder anymore
about your whereabouts or where your emotions sit,
cross legged and anxious.
i don’t wonder anymore about our small town
and its stipulations.
i don’t wonder about you that often
and it makes me wonder what we had that made me love every second like it was my own offspring
like it breathed me alive until i died again and again
just so you would revive me.
i don’t wonder about you,
that often, anymore,
maybe the shame ate away at my bones
and provoked me for too long.
never knew the wound would heal itself and soon it would be apt time to forget.
does one forget?
does one forget those late nights,
fever-less after a sickness?
does one forget each purpose they’ve gathered
when they were not searching?
does one forget you?
does one simply stop believing in you?
stop thinking of you?
until the dust settles and the doors slam shut
and the empty hallway is just a hallway again
and not filled with your absence?
stop waking up wishing for you?
stop dreaming of the world without bloodshed, without fear, without shame?
just suddenly forget every emotion
that rests inside the mind?
just suddenly forget you?
stop believing in the falsehood?
just stop believing in you?

maybe we are punished
by those we miss most
with dark eyes
and heavy bags that
linger on a sad face.
maybe we are hurting
by ourselves and
we think it might get better
to wish for a lover,
i don’t want a lover,
i wanted to be loved.
now that that’s over,
i can’t remember
how tender you were
how life was a story
that i would’ve
fabricated to my mother
if it hadn’t happened
like it had.
maybe we are punished
by the thoughts we hold
that we think can stay forever,
a lingering cold.
maybe we are losing
our minds just a little
every second.
the neurons are gone—
what does it take to remember?
what does it take to remember?
make it much more,
bring it all back,
i haven’t thought of you—
it’s driving me mad.
how i can forget
what means the most?
am i being punished
by you, i hope
so.