Darkness fills my eyes,
As the stars disappear,
And the sinkhole becomes a black hole,
Until I’m left suspended.
In the nowhere,
In the somewhere.
Between chaos,
Between pain,
Part of the one?
No, I’m another.
Because I must be something other than this.

I think I must be a child of the stars.
A stolen kiss between the night and day.
Forbidden to exist.
That’s the only explanation that would explain
Why just the simple act of breathing,
Offends the gods.

It seems everyone is made of some scintillating light,
Twinkling and dancing,
As they hold each other,
As laughter and love seem to be their constant companions.

Why is it when I see those brilliant lights,
Shame and wonder tear through me?
No, I know why.
Because-
I was woven from the sorrow of abandonment.
More midnight than bright light
And made up of nothing more, than finite moments.
I am brought out by the darkness,
Only to be forgotten when day comes.
Is it selfish of me to ask
For you to hold me tighter?
For just a little longer?
Just long enough
For me to make a permanent memory
Of this fleeting moment.

The sticky sap crawls down my limbs
Violating the purity of flowers and foliage all around
I want to become one with the trees
One with the garden and dirt
From which I sprouted.

I look at the crimson endlessly pouring from my wound.
It lets me know that for now I am still human.
Not yet plant or earth but soon.
Soon I will be.

Maybe the creatures
will have families and love
So in death I could have
What I could not receive in life.
My bones will finally be a home
that they never were for me.

When I get close to people,
I tend to overshare.
especially when I spot a shared interest.

You’re into cheesy memes?
I’ll flood your inbox with my favorites
You like scary things?
Even if I’m not always into them
I’ll find the ones I do like
thinking you’ll appreciate them too

But lately,
I’ve started to think...
maybe people don’t like this.
Because over time
they start to drift away.

It stings to be labeled a copycat
When all I've ever wanted is friendship
People close to me that I can be open with.

Maybe I'm meant to float alone
Like a golden jelly,
I should make my own pattern.

all i do is write and hope you call.
sweaty hands on shaky pens.
the dreamworld i imagine has you in it,
but i cannot touch it or it crumbles.
and what kind of sanctuary did i build for myself acting like you’ll keep reaching out till your lungs start to shrivel?
my own imposter syndrome kills me
from the inside out
and i’m sorry i never quite saw myself in the light you envisioned.
all i do is write and watch the wall.
imagine it being my friend
imagine it being unable to punch a hole in
but just as it is, my doubts come hurling;
there’s a hole in your stomach the size of my avoidance.

i hide without the possibility of seek,
without the capability of you finding me
in the deep deep woods of my heart.

we are echoes to each other’s empty corridors.
you bounce off the walls and the noise is gone before i speak.
but if i just speak up, will you hear my throat scratch,
will you wait till the next little creak?
if i chose to find my way out of the hallway,
will you just be standing staring at a wall?
or will you come and find me
collecting my screams
and committing them to memory
so that the echoes are just reminders of
what you’re truly searching for?

all i do is write and hope you call.
hope you sit and remember the nights
and contemplate diving headfirst into what terrifies you.
hope you use reveries to daydream about me,
hope you patch up the holes you’ve received.

hope the indecision doesn’t haunt me
doesn’t echo in my corridor
doesn’t call with your voice in the darkness.
hope i never mistake it for your tender care,
hope i never come running at it with bared teeth and teardrops,
wishing it dead.
hope i never become the bitter villain that forgets how to love
and both hands become weapons
pointed and primed
waiting for someone’s weakness to define their demise.

all i do is write and hope you call
and lose my mind thinking of you giving your all
to someone who won’t reciprocate it,
someone who’s still hoping you’ll search for them
even though they do not wish to be found.