I'm freezing from the inside out

as cold seeps into every pore,

spreading its dark tendrils inform of creeping numbness

that suffocates my soul.

Everywhere feels like a suffocating chill

and it's wrapped around my heart.

Leaving my breath in a startled gasp,

The air around me thickens, refusing to fill my lungs,

And my chest tightens in a vice grip that won't relent.

Each heartbeat a drumbeat,

echoing fear and desperation.

My thoughts turns to fragment,

shattered like broken glass,

Showing reflections of a mind in chaos.

Memories linger, taunting me with happiness,

that's lost in the haze of anxiety's relentless grip.

Emptiness consumes me, and turns me to a hollow shell,

Soulless,

devoid of warmth or light or hope,

that echoes with every heartbeat,

A chasm between what was and what is.

Time becomes distorted, stretching each moment,

Minutes become hours, hours become eternity,

Then the world retreats, leaving only darkness,

and a neglected landscape, lacking comfort or solace.

In this hell, I search for a lifeline,

A thread to cling to, a beacon to guide me through,

A reassuring voice, a gentle touch,

Anything.

But every handhold slips away,

leaving me falling, as my body trembles like a fragile leaf,

Shaken by the winds of fear and uncertainty.

My mind screams in a silent cry,

Drowning in silence, and desperate for rescue,

I strain to recall calm moments,

Serene skies, peaceful nights, loving arms,

But they fade like mist in morning sun,

Leaving only the stark reality of this panic.

And the realization that I'm fighting for a breather,

to remember and to forget,

And if God's willing,

Then I won't slip away,

or get lost like these tears that slipped away.

my pockets are filled with ponderous stones
my knees are trembling,
under the weight on my own resignation.

demons with honed claws are drowning me underneath the surface,
with a conceited triumph.
my bones and flesh are nothing to them but an appetising prey,
a fruitful source of agony to cease their hunger
for broken and forgotten souls.


i pray and pray,
i keep praying
but nothing comes out.
the lividity of heart sends out disturbing signals that i am long gone:
only a shell of a once human mannequin
left behind.

twelve thirty-something in my sister's apartment
a moment of dancing and your lips met mine
tequila-stained breath and the sound of them talking
all disappeared at that moment in time.
Chocolate brown eyes and with a gaze I got lost in
What does this mean? Who is this guy?
your hands on my waist and the feeling of fire
all disappeared when you said goodbye.
Six months later you walk up my driveway
hands in your pockets, hair freshly done
lost in my sheets we spend half the day
How could this be? Is he the one?
One year later, we share the same bedroom
i sleep every night my head tucked in your arm
people's assumptions, is this happening too soon?
that feeling of fire is a slow constant warm.
You know all my secrets, we share the same hairbrush
we go and buy groceries, we laugh through the aisles
i know that I’ve said I’ve loved once before
but day after day you heal my inner child.
You hold my heart like it’s glass in your hands
Delicate and soft, precious as diamond
They always told me true love is worth waiting for,
but I never thought this was how I would find him.
I am yours in mind, and body, and soul
I’ll go through this life holding your hand in mine
and when our bones turn weary and old
when our breaths slow down and we know that it’s time
I’ll die smiling knowing I lived this life with you
we shared the best and the worst of our days
And when we depart I know I won’t miss you;
In every lifetime, I’ll love you this way.

This is a poem for the anger
I keep coiled around my ribs
Because I was taught that anger is an absinthian poison
That will rise like bile in the throat and must be swallowed.
And I realize you may read this
And you may be angry
But I realize with each crunch of bone
I must give myself the space
To uncoil in this way.

I am angry
That you made me a captive reservoir
for the bitter droughts you refused to drink yourself.
You were iron-stomached after years of punches,
that I understood.
Open handed, I wanted to be the exception
But holy palmer’s kiss
Was still not enough to let me cross the threshold.
You are the locked room in the house that the children are forbidden
Only small glimpses between hinges
Of your fear poisoned self
Huddled in a corner, vomiting apologies.

I am angry
for believing I could have lain beside you
every night for the rest of my life
And not starved to death from loneliness.

I am angry
for ignoring how I dimmed each time I waited for you
to want me, to miss me, to think of me,
to ask me to come into your arms,
to find me fascinating, enchanting
to tell me you needed me;
to betray anything that proved I was more than convenience,
A drink that served itself on a silver platter,
Asking to be drunk.
If you only knew how luminous I could be
when loved well.


I am angry
That I still hope you will be waiting by my door after work
because you realized how you starved me
And now you’ve set a banqueting table, a banner over me is love
But I know you will never do this.
I know you cannot do this.
I am angry
that I miss only the space you left,
That I have not yet been able to close the gap
And walk away from your memory.

You have the most pleasant touch,
most pleasant eyes, most pleasant wrinkles.
Kotschka, you have turned me into a fire
without knowing it, without seeing it.
Now that you do, look at me and show
me remorse, and give me your condolences.
This is my very first time saying this:
I died when you looked at me
and I died when you said 'hi.'
I died when you smiled,
and I died again when you touched me.
This is how it's going to be, but know
that I can die again and again
as long as it's for you and because of you.

I hate it when the rain stops;
When melancholy fades,
I hate it when the growing stops,
When clouds' whispers no longer fill the sky with wind shades.
I hate it when the day caused by thunder sets,
I hate it when quieter it gets.
When the flickering lights go out,
When my inner self can no longer shout.
I hate it when the leaves go still,
I hate it when the roads no longer squeal.
I hate it when the rain stops;
When melancholy fades,
I hate it when the sky leaves me alone in saudade.
~Simroze
12•3•21
03:11am