your mother tongue never needed to distinguish between
house and home

I am a pariah. Some see me as a joke, some see me as a mystery, some see me as a hot mess. But they all see me and refuse to stop seeing me. They unforgivingly gape and gawk at me.

Everyone has their own version of the story, and I cannot tell you how many times I have been told that my version is wrong. They seem to forget that after all, it is my story, but then they remember, and then they stare.

The few people that I have left continue to attempt to explain that this will all blow over with time. It has been three months since the incident occurred. Three months of staring, stories, and acting as if I’m not hearing their versions. As if I’m not hearing them call me a ****. As if I’m not hearing them say that I liked what he did to me. As if I’m supposed to sit there and act like their condolences are genuine and fake a smile, just for them.

At this point, I am unsure if they are even staring anymore. I am uncertain if it is all in my head, or if this is what my life will be now. I am unsure if I will ever be able to be just looked over again. I am unsure of myself and my choices and my thoughts. I don’t even know if they are mine anymore.  

Sometimes I wish that I could implode and make a colossal scene, but then I remember that it would just make the stares last longer. So I sit there, stuck, having to take the stares and hear their stories and listen to my uncertainty. Because after all I am just another one of their stories, and subsequently I will eventually disappear again.

I wonder if you could tell me
What you saw in my eyes on day one
The day we met had a warm summer breeze
But what did you see under our setting sun?

I ponder until my sky has darkened
What you heard that you didn’t want to let go of
The night we sat in Aya with our eyes widened
But what did you hear through the music of love?

I squander my imagination out of reach
What you could’ve felt on our last embrace
Over the clouds, mourning mountains and seas
But what did you feel about the memories we couldn’t erase?

I surrender my thoughts and dream from yesteryear
What stopped us from erupting every single day?
Through our implosions, we’ve turned igneous and seared
But what good are we if we can’t make it through today?

they always tell you
"reach for the moon -
if you miss,
you'll land among stars."

what they fail to mention is that
the moon needs light from
the sun
          to shine.
and the light from the stars
takes billions of years
to reach us;
but first
                  they must implode.

In my eyes I rescue the heat in my chest

Crushed inside under one collapsed lung

Living in glow, so faintly, off of my breath

A mirror placed before me in silence I can

Only see deep  so when I look, lonely,

what do I see?

A shred of truth

With what could I bring

a pulse of truth from so low

up to the level?

I've seen a little light through the crack at night,

when the others relieve

the drinks that put them in bed, maybe I’ll use that

old song to move on and when I implode,

would any blame me?

Boom,
Emotional explosion,
HAHA too ******* right,
****** up right,
Just sat here steaming,
Boiling to a point of losing control,
Boom Explosion.

Boom,
Anger,
Rage,
Agression,
Its all there just under my skin,

now its raising,
up,
up,
up,
it comes,

its coming haha,
nothing i can do now,
better to just let it go.

this is what happens,
with no sleep and just nightmares,
this is what happens,
when you have nothing and no one.

this is it.
its time.

Explode,
implode,
destruction,
BOOM

theres nothing left.
no breaks,
no control.