when I think about you
I hold you close and place you
around my neck like a necklace.
somewhere where I know that you're safe.
somewhere that I don't have to question.
your lips a pendant to the charms
that bang against my chest if I were to run.
the chain of your arms looped around my neck.
not to bind, or to keep stagnant.
to take in the sights, to breathe as one,
just as the planets that clasp together,
dangling from the universe's neck.
and
how the stars gleam and radiate.
bouncing and filling the empty gaps of space.
astronauts know this for a fact.
nestled in the comfort of their ships, sailing the sky.
clutching their keepsakes.
thinking about the love they've left back home.
although I am far from an astronaut.
you guide me through some of my darkest times.
when I think about you
I hold you close and place you
around my neck like a necklace.
if ever I am lost, you center me

there's a sea
on the other side of this dream,
you will meet yourself
there, on the shore.
she might say
"you're so much braver than me,
'cause, you see,
you've made it here on your own."
she could hold your hand
or hold back a laugh
when the waves catch you off guard
as they break.
there's a life
on the other side of this dream
to welcome you back
once you're awake.

Do not fret
For the hole in your chest
Cannot stay hollow for much longer
In due time
A heart will fill the void
And you will feel again

Hush, little one, and get some rest
Don’t lie awake thinking you failed some test
Let me wipe away your tears, don’t be distressed
All who matter know you tried your best

Some are shrill and some whiny,
Some are deep and hoarse or smarmy.

Some sing, and others scream,
Some are lazy, some are keen.

Some are there to comfort and to reassure. Or there to ridicule and to exacerbate an emotional sore.

Mine are, mostly, the latter type.

i hate to be graphic and upsetting, but i need to write this. please refrain from reading.

first thing on my mind is
harm
what i feel like i deserve is
pain
it is not even a coping mechanism to me anymore
it has become routine
i fixate on it
i need to do it
i have to or else
i cannot bear to be myself
in my cold skin
i can't even look in the mirror
i'm a ******* monster
the slow sensation on my arm
is relieving and reassuring
that i am still deserving of it

i remember when i was 13
and i grabbed my weapon
and ran to my room
shut the door
turned out the light
sat down on the floor
and wept
if only i had known
what i was getting myself into
fast forward 5 years
and i am still there
on the floor

the reaction from my mother when i confessed
shocked me and took me by surprise
how could you be mad at me
i thought to myself
but now i realize why
i was her masterpiece
never to inflict harm on myself
and there i was
ruining what was hers
my skin

it's always there
most times a burden
other times a sign of resilience
a reminder of my monster
my corrupt side
of low self-esteem and self-worth
that i seem to never gain back
i won't ever hide it
i won't ever get rid of it
because i can't

i am not proud
most people say i'm a pathetic fool
crying for attention
desperate for others to see
but no one ever notices
and it lets me know
that it will always be
my little secret
a habit that was once by choice
but now by force

i wonder if i will ever grow out of it
like they said i would
years ago
i have accepted the fact that
i love it
and will never let it go