my hands clung to any happiness i could achieve so when you came in swinging, i felt the rush of adrenaline in each and every part of my watery veins—they pumped with yearning and that’s all you ever made of me. a ghost wailing for its own vessel but to only be left hollow in a grave throughout the afterlife brim.

i always screamed too loud at night and i know you learned that you’re the reason why i can’t sleep on my left side for too long. but if it makes one of us feel any better, i cannot drink my coffee with four sugars without remembering how you always did things the same amount of times. never more, never less.

and if it helps you sleep better at night, just know, that i can’t.

my insomnia has been coughing up blood more and more as the days go by. the bedroom gets more suffocating and the comforters have gotten more tight. your name is still the same on my phone but you told me to lose that ages ago. (news flash, wide eyed watercolors never looked good on me.)

we both know the truth of what happened that night but you cannot risk your reputation to save my life.

because after all, only one of us have a soul
and everyone knows it isn’t you.

it was june or july or august
everything i could never say carved itself my esophagus, the words that would never escape – you made sure of that. one hand wound around my throat and the other cradling her blushing cheeks.

she slips away but your grip only tightens.
fingers scraping – my flesh beneath your nails as i learn a new kind of silence. just a little longer, i’m almost gone. trapped like a bug encased in amber but when those wilted wildflower eyes meet mine, you know i’ll always forgive you.

my lips flicker like a flame as i wonder if i’ll slip away too.
of course not & you like that. push on the middle of my windpipe, crack it like a glowstick and watch my lucid acid purge from my throat in neon technicolor – you do it in a way where i’m both alive but running through the afterlife in white gowns & red stained feet

you recite those wendigo apologies while they look in your wildflower eyes, you purge those auto repeat explanations and how it will never happen again – but we both know it will. your testaments are all folklore, but i always keep reading it.

you lick the blood filled sorrows into my skin and i forgive you.
and i always will because daddy always showed that when a man loves a woman, he hits her.

I'm a "vlogger" poet,
or a poet who "vlogs"
through words.
Filling your Home pages
with my own latest news,
brand new discoveries:
I'm an alcoholic
and probably bipolar too.

I don't want to feel better.
If I could feel better then life would be beautiful.
But I don't deserve beauty,
Or love,
Or glory.
I lost the love of my father,
Watching it crumble away into nothingness,
And pleading "please don't go."

I'd give anything to miss you one last time.
If I could miss you then existing would be painless.
But I deserve pain,
And hate,
And suffering.
I lost the love of my mother,
Watching it melt between my frail fingers,
And screaming "please don't leave."

I don't want to feel better.
If I could feel better then life would have no meaning.
I don't deserve meaning,
Or words,
Or tears.
I lost the love of myself,
Watching it shatter into a million pieces,
And whispering "please, just go."

Drinking her is a terrible experience
The furious fizz fizzles on your tounge, insisting on its existence in your mouth
The facade of fun from the fucia bottle flickers,
leaving you with clear liquid suffering
It flagrantly fizzes around your mouth, flicking your tastebuds.
It’s funny she says.
Then the facade of fizz fizzles,
You taste hatred
A bitter thirst.
An acrid stench of fear, inflicted on others
An unrelenting
Slog
Of equal suffering.

I do not know who made fizzy water,
but i would like to have a chat.

I could never name you, for to do so would be sin.
All I really want for is to crawl inside your skin.
Feel you from the inside, know what it's like to be whole,
Feel myself just pouring out of you from every hole.

Even when your skin falls off, you'll be divine to me.
All you are is what I am and what I wish to be,
I see you in your mirrors when you're resting in the night,
Nothing else becomes you, yet I feel you deep inside.

When can we be one again? I taste you on my lips.
Hunger yet consumes me, though I feel that if I slip,
I could be so much more than what I am to myself,
Feel the burning, let it take you, be my living hell.

Underwater currents sell vibrations to the muse,
Otherwise, we cannot comprehend, we get confused.
I allow your presence, yet your body makes me weep.
O, your tender flesh would be the greatest prize to keep.

Never ******* touch me, otherwise I'll take your hands.
If you know what's best for you, comply with my demands.
Please don't be afraid of me, I need you, can't you see?
God, you'll never understand, just ******* leave me be

Every lonely night I spend, with your face on my mind,
Fills me up with hope, yet when I see you I feel blind
Blind with rage and fury and with hatred and with doubt
What the **** is wrong with you get out get out get out

Out get out get out get out get out get out get out
Get the **** away from me get out get out get out
Never ******* touch me I will call the ******* cops
Get the **** away from me, I'll call the ******* cops