I have this thing
This thing that I do
It's no big deal
It's just this thing that I do

I took three steps
That's one less than four
Even though four is not a bad number
It is too close to the ones that are
Three and eight are the best
Followed by twelve and twenty-four
And all the numbers of seven
Well not the numbers with five
Those send shivers down my spine

Even numbers are better than odds
Excepts two
Which combined with three is five
I said odds are worse
But thirteen is pretty great
As long as it doesn't mix
With the ones that I hate
And eight is Ok
But sometimes it makes me think
That eight is too close to nine
And to make nine you must have five
So sometimes I don't think
That eight is so Ok

This is the thing
This thing that I do
I know this behavior is strange
But this is just the thing that I do

Check.

Relief.

Check.

Relief.

Check.

Relief.

Pause.

Don’t check.

Un-pause.

Sudden and devastating irony that one’s skin can crawl, yet none of their limbs work.

The only animated parts being my heart as it hammers against the rigid, perspiring cage that it so desperately tries to keep alive.

And my lungs, as they desperately gulp for air like they may never taste it again.

For who knows if oxygen exists in the darkness that lurks at the epicentre of the collision between fact and fiction.


Check.

Check again.

i'm not giving up
if i never had any hope at all

i'm worried about disappointing You
You care about me and that’s scary
i'm unpredictable
i'm unstable
i'm unreliable

You are so perfect to me
i can't stand to watch you worry your beautiful head over me
i will always be okay
i promise

If only I could keep it locked outside of me
If only it could cease to exist
If only I didn't have to scratch that
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6
itch

If only I could swallow it
Dissolve it in my stomach
If only I could
KNOW for sure if I would or wouldn't

It is like an earwig
Creeping through my brain
I know my actions fuel it
But, oh, it drives me insane

If only I had control
If only I could see
That control is the only thing
That gives it power over me

sad boy;
what a pathetic
ploy
this is for my attention.
all you contrive
tastelessly
always lacks concession.

every word,
and image you fake
I reject, from my
possession,
for all you are
's worth less than this
effortless expression.

you see, my natural
creativity
surmounts your ****
impression
of the beauty of my work
and my powerful
transgression.

Some times
I think about how
The word
Alphabet
Means Alpha
And Beta
And how that
Implies a
....
Like the
Alphabet
Doesn't really
Ever end
So now the
Letter Z
Raises questions
In my brain
And I wonder
What comes
After it
That is why
I cannot
Sleep.

I am not your property.
You do not own me.
I choose to stay.

At least that's what I tell myself.

I feel an ache when you step into my body
‘In my mind.

When you fall into the dark you always haunt me
‘Open mind…

Think it is much too soon to tell you that I need you
‘Open wide….

I tend to lose my sense of time in the morning
‘Don’t cry..

When I am cold I want to feel your blood flowing
‘Hold on tight…..

And as I fade into the light ignore my yearning
‘To this love……



© Sofia Villagrana 2018