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Peeling silver skin
And exposing yourself
To change
In blister punch holes
Is a fight in itself

And running is easy
And hiding is comfort
And tiled voices echo
Against porcelain
And bubbles
Soft
It feels like a battle,
Me and my mind,
I don’t want to be the kind to run and hide,
I hear myself quick to judge,
Not only myself but others

I want to be kind and strong,
Adapt to society,
Be comfortable in the skin I walk in,
Protest for my rights and equality,
Raise my fist,
Stand up for what I believe in,
Without being afraid anymore

Instead I look at myself in the eye,
Wonder why I am so flawed.
I failed to see the wild flower inside,
Full of ambition and desire,

Walking around holding my breath,
Repressing my natural feelings,
Supressing the layers of my ego,
Unwilling to follow my intuition,
Repetition of the same issues,
Waiting to be consoled,

I want to wake up.
Accept my place on this earth,
Thrive within my creativity,
Be a decent human being
Share my vulnerability,
Reflecting on my mentality,
Working through my past tragedy’s,
Reclaim my identity,
Get rid of the toxicity,

Recognize my flaws,
Break down these walls,
Reach out for communication
The savior
The perfect partner
The dominant
The free spirit
The fiancé
The parental substitute
The anarchist
The sweetheart
The nice guy
All of these aspects of myself
Yet none of them are fully me
These are the roles I've fallen into
In order to match my various partners
And though all of these may be
Different components of me
None of them feels quite whole
I do not feel whole

All of these personalities
Exist on a spectrum of time and space
None interacting with any others
Each signifies a distinct point in life
Each has its own home
It's own experiences
Attitudes and viewpoints
Behaviors and habits

Yet what do I do when
Two of my contextualized selves
Decide to overlap?
When my ex who knew the fiancé
Moves back to town where I live
As does my person
Who's heard stories of the others
But who only knows the nice guy

How do I begin to heal when
I do not understand what is real
And what existed solely for others?
How do I continue to grow
When the fiancé is fighting restraints
And the nice guy is exhausted
The sweetheart does not exist
And the anarchist screams for revolution?

They seem to be fighting each other
Just to have a chance to breathe
A chance to take the wheel
A chance to control "me"
Yet who even am I?
Are all of these selves fabricated
Or are they hyperbolized aspects of me
Connectable like puzzle pieces
Into one beautiful picture?

The problem is
The picture I see is not beautiful
I'm trying to be nice to myself
But all I see and feel is darkness
I am an abomination
An evil person who cannot be trusted
A dark soul inhabiting an empty body
A person who is not a person
A human with a lack of self
It's almost like I'm not even alive
But even death would be a relief
So I can finally end the confusion
And stop hurting people along the way
I think I'm afraid to lose you
Which is extremely ironic
Considering I'm the one who left
See I don't mean "lose you"
As in lose you from my life
I think it's more about your approval
Your desire
Your intensity
Your love
I want to be wanted and yes I know
It's super screwed up
I wish I understood it more myself
See, on a conscious level
I know I don't need you and that
I am not responsible for your choices
I am not involved in your life
And quite frankly I shouldn't be
Considering the mess my mind's in
Maybe my brain hasn't yet realized
That I've been without you for a year
And I've been doing fine
Maybe I only see my value
Reflected in the opinions of others
So I seek everyone's desire
Instead of my own acceptance
I don't understand
I wish I did
I wish I had the answers
Maybe one day this will all make sense
Maybe one day I won't be so sick
Maybe one day I can be me
Without fear
Without worry
Without anxiety
I just want to be happy
I just want to be free
I just want to be me
And know what that means
when my mind is quiet
my heart erupts emotions
it's pain erodes the mind blocks
and gives me whiplash
it subjects itself to neurons
and interlaces by craft
my heart befriends unspoken dialogue
and bears itself to my sensibility
it outbursts towards my brains game
in disparity
to be understood

it shreds
and snaps
and cripples

when my mind is quiet
my heart screams to make itself known
Self examination
snap the nitrile

blue gloves up in your ventricles
grab a testicle

or two
we're gonna stretch and

pull down the protector
3,2,1 avant garde

no sound, but your life was hard
I noticed

you spoke it
credits were rollin'

down your cheek
so you smoked it

and laughed at
nothing certain but death and taxes

laxative breakfast served
a generation

you miss it you miss it
a life that hurt because you

scavenged for Christmas
the little blessings

a life worth living
by killing optimists

penetrating defense
to pillar high with indifference

to intent
now you can't ascend

you stash it
in Easter baskets

in sillicone lashes
push the ashes together

then burn the mattress
dust to sand

through fingers, a fist
3rd grade principal

pulled from detention
a stretcher pulled you

white to trenches you fought in
when all you needed was

a breath of attention
who said you could end it

win it
prescription of tribulations

from whatever God you'd scavenge for Christmas
he put you through it

all the abuses
the habits

the black and white canvas
silent obscuring angles

of mannequins
30 seconds of a dancer

who prayed for this madness
who pays for the therapist

who even lets you have it
who kept you out of church

and into church basements
who writes the book of curses

that force fed you the sedative
given by laxatives

that say they went to college.
their Suit is stained in coffee

Yet you have the vices
The film is over

the light flickers darkness
we sit in the coffin

smokin' and screamin'
blood is flowing, but there's

no fire
we're just speakin'

what happens after 3PM
witching hour that one scene

when the camera angle was
blurry.

it spoke to me
said self examination can't be

latex
you gotta get nitrile

they're cut resistant
cover five fingers

not just a lover
a stranger

they protect you from more than danger
so button your blanket

take down the ink curtains
sun was always shining,

closed it
to blurry focus

could take our macguyver theater
wallpaper canvas stretching

hit us in the temple
like a parsha

finished another session
the blessing of human language

the messenger
malakh, without expectation

we fumble to understand
Scalpel in our hand,

ventricle in tact
we're just holdin' a feather pen

talkin' in white and black
we stick our hands in the past

take a look at examination
then take a look at our self.
Adrian 1d
⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
.Sir murmurs feverish death
spells,
                   Bewitched hysteria enchanted elven
           ears,
                   Violin strings of stuttering velvet
echo,
                         vacuity beguile cracked
telescopes,
                             Sir’s feigned ruby lips
lament.
  ⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
  ⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
.Draperies comb the purple
hare,
Riveted coats sneeze in the
pallor,
                            Stabilizing the drunken
absences,
Late violets exhale in
tedium.
    ⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
    ⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
      .Sir views tree sagging in dirt
coffins,
                     In fabricated
tranquility,
                With pleasant booming
hums.
     ⇜⇝⇜⇝
     ⇜⇝⇜⇝
.Sirs deteriorating dense
chasms,
                    Encounter convenient
disorientation.
⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜
⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜
.Spotted desolate greenery a hafted ax of
demise.
⇜⇝⇜⇝
new energy has been arising in me lately,
with determination and a clearer state of mind
confidence has found a home in my bones, safety
i used to write poems about anxiety
hopelessness, defeat, the struggle through each day
but recently those feelings have gone away
fresh perspectives fill my eyes and ears

at times i feel like i am being tricked
someone is going to appear and hand me all of those feelings back
laughing at me, she really thought she would get out that easy
but it wasn't easy, i should give myself credit
so much time and effort
went into easing my mind, telling it everything will be alright
and finally
it listened.
Arima 2d
I was the Iron Maiden,
alchemized flesh
Only knowing hardness
and pain.
I've been the thorns,
spikes  that did nothing
but drew blood
from gentle touches.
The waves were my hair
dragging you into the undertow
of my tumultuous thoughts.
But
eventually,
all waves recede
leaving a blueprint
for growth to follow
close behind.
The brain prompt is well-being and growth.
is it sad i didn't care enough about you to cry over our break up
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