How did you go from loving me
to projecting pain as you look me in the eyes?

Was it your shame or your guilt?
Was it my insecurity or lack of preservation?

I should have treasured each moment,
acknowledged why I amazed you.
I should have verbally reciprocated
my adoration and gratitude.

Instead,
I let silence take place of what you deserved.
I'm
sorry.
I too am at fault.

But, I've grown, and I've learned.
Your absence acting as the catalyst.
So thank you.
Thank you for
falling
out
of
love.

I'm admired,
some may say.

My kindness,
my courage,
my unbarred humor.

Carefree vegan,
ambitious dreamer,
propelled activist.

All these describe me,
but do they define me?

Often times . . .
after I reach my limit,
I lay in bed.
Stare up, in disappointment.
My past sins creeping in,
my future faults a movement away.

All it takes
is one wrong thought.
Just with that,
artificial confidence radiates my body.

Unaccomplished goals
drown within a drink.

Past paralyzations
demolished with moshes
and blurry vision.

My tongue shaping unfamiliar words,
executed with inescapable dread.

While cool wind invades pores,
thoughts of others
blare in ears.
With such fast-paced nights,
tomorrow becomes unworthy.

But once midnight strikes,
blotched mascara
rests on my cheeks.

Back in bed,
familiarity ignites.
I say my prayers,
my thanks,
my sorrows,
then once again,
float off towards my dreams.

Do you ever have a designated **** up day?

Bulging organs
nearing capacity.

Silver omissions
drenched in chaotic acid.

Floors swept by tarnishing stress:
piles of knowledge meant for the future,
piles of words nursing the past,
piles of tools aiding in mental destruction.

Yeah me too.

It's time to sleep.
Allow your lids to cover the sins of today.

staring once more
into myself
dregs staring back
me, "nothing more
than a character"
then close, it follows
staring inside
from the outside
what do you see?

can't escape the
sum of my parts
smoke signals sent,
nothing returned
need to ask those burned
"should i burn myself"
hurting inside, toiling
the trivialities.

what's the good word?
i'm making sense
time wasn't lost,
the time was spent

every once in a while
i can act out certain scenes
in ways my words
could never say

my worst qualities crack the best of my plans
my worst qualities crack the best of my plans

there was a point,
the recent past,
this act had meant
feeling concrete
the cast has since
disappeared
let the pour pool
up here, set
around my feet.

my worst qualities crack the best of my plans
my worst qualities crack the best of all my plans

i'm split, i'm split, i'm split