We never had a song—
no chorus to hum,
no melody stitched
into the seams of us.

And maybe we didn’t need one.
Maybe the silence was enough.
But you love music.
And I love music.

So how did we not have a song,
if the love was real?
When we were dancing
were we pretending to feel?

Did you love me?
Or was it just my laughter at your jokes—
my habit of giggling, even at your half-shady pokes?

Did you love me?
Or did I just have the time?
Did you think, “Yeah, she’s not half bad. This could be just fine.”

Did you love me?
Or were you just scared—
tired of doing life alone, craving a body that cared?

Was it real for you? Or just another game?
Was I a plot point in your story
because the chapters had gotten tame?

These thoughts still haunt me—
and the truth I’ll never know.
Mostly because I’d never ask—
and I wouldn't survive you saying “no.”

i don't know what's wrong with me
but something was happening so long ago
and it still repeats in my head
makes me want to shut my eyes and go

i don't know what's wrong with me
but i can't talk about it
no matter how hard i try
i'm just to scared to admit that i've been through some ****...

i don't know what's wrong with me
every time i see those awful people
every time there's a loud noise or a crowded room
it just reminds me that the whole world is sheeple

i don't know what's wrong with me
their words repeat in my head in an infinite loop
their mocking keeps coming up
feels like i'm in a boiling *** of trauma soup...

haha i don't ******* know what's wrong with me!!!

I miss you every day
Your personality and your face
The way you'd greet me after being away
only momentarily
How you made me feel just after I wake
The weird ways you would lay
Your cheeky smile and how we would play
You changed my life in unquantifiable ways
Gave me a reason to make effort
and build on myself to be better
I hate how we parted in haste
Filled with hostility, upset, lacking grace
I replay it, and wish it was different
But I know it's something I can't change
And that's okay
Because I know you're doing well
Looking after yourself
Bringing joy to the world
Still being who you are with no filter
I keep your photos up to remember
I'll love you forever...

Dear dad,

From you I learned that anger was scary.
You never expressed it in a way that wasn't frightening.
Anger was always directed at someone or something,
You often voiced threats and I could only nod along because I was so afraid.

Ever since the day you burned the bridge we made,
The string that kept me full of hope; burned and faded away,
I'd lie to myself for a long time,
I protected you my whole life.

Because of you, I don't know how to feel mad.
It rarely happens but when it does,
It's usually directed at myself.
Because I don't want to scare or hurt anyone else.

I can't use my voice when I'm angry
I cry and step away,
Or wait until I get to my car to scream
as I drive home and feel hateful.

I hate my anger...
I feel disappointed
I'll never tell you but
I wish you had done better.

When I was young I wrote about
How therapy was always trying to trawl me treacherous
With only having gone a handful of times as a child.
Today therapy is a friend to me,
Only trying to tear my troubles from my treacherous hands
To help me understand where they come from
And where I stand.

To be knelt in a shower
Watching crimson mix with water
Some good ol’ fashioned
Pain drain

Bloodletting
How delicious

What is it about a cleansing ritual
That brings
Soot to surface

It’s scar tissue
Meets fresh wounds
Amidst the carnage
A kernel of truth

Cartography
How scrumptious

What is it about toweling off
That removes
Less than we thought

It’s whispered words
Meets silent screams
All this chaos
What does it mean

Decryption
How cathartic

What is it about slipping into jeans
That tucks away the secrets
Folds up the mental maps
Slurps the blood from the floor
And masks us up
For the world to adore

///

“How was your weekend?”

(wait, what’s my line?)

Plasma
A flushed cheek
“Oh…it was fine”
smiles

Merely existing
How divine

///