god said the wage of sin is death
so i've been paying all the tolls and
counting down my breaths
but i feel like we're in eden
naked, unashamed
pure as the day we were born
your touch so relieving
forbidden, sacrificial
and i'm bleeding down
a crown of thorns

he folded love into
tiny envelopes,
gave me a wet
kiss on the cheek,
left fingerprints on
my gravestone,
took everything i had
from me

left to spend the winter
with animated corpses
my skin balmy from
their heat
my hands clammy from
the snow
my days consumed with
lights and warm bodies
in this place where
fallen angels
go

the air is empty and breathless
i walk this earth without intention
my mind deserted, cold, distant
my heart filled with death
where life once lived

i do not stop to smell the roses anymore.

i do not feel the sun on my skin.

my days illustrated by lovelessness
my nights warm with sin

my love alone
was not enough.
you needed it all,
the flesh and blood.

how many times
did you watch me cry?

how many times
did you stroke the
edge of the blade against
my wings before
you finally clipped them?

you left me bound to earth,
to these two feet, however
fast and far they could
run away.

you left me for dead
i felt like an
animal corpse
rotting in your closet
for years, withering
more and more
to bone.

you filled me with venom
and i have had so many
mouths suckle the wound
but i am still as poisonous
as the day i escaped you.

and i still wish i could fly
the way i did before.

my body is
so used to
telling these
lies in hopes
of finding
safety
sooner
than later.

so used
to answering
the unspoken
question.

my legs
shaking,
*******
swelling,
blood,
rushing.
pulse,
throbbing.

my voice is
used to
there never
being the
option of,
“no,
i don’t
want this.”

it is hidden
so deeply
away
that even
when i
am with a
lover,  one
who values
my words,
one who
honors my
needs,
i still
can not
find it
inside of
me in time
to stop you.

no,
i do
not want
this.

but this
time
i do
not cry
silenty
in the
darkness
of your
bedroom.

this time
i allow
myself
to become
numb.

nothing
but stale
breath
and dead
nerve
endings.

the space
between my
legs, becoming
incresingly
foreign to
me, becoming
more and more
void of
sensation
more and more
void of
arousal.

vision,
blurring.
pulse,
slowing.


it feels
as though
i have wilted
and withered
away.

i am not
here
anymore.

my mind is
standing barefoot
on the shoreline
of the northern
atlantic ocean.

the tide is
kissing my feet
before scurrying
away, only to
come back and
kiss my feet
again.

i look
for seashells
and colorful
stones.

i don’t need
my voice or
my body, here.

i only need the
sounds of
waves
crashing and
birds calling
to one
another,
all so vividly-
all so
beautifully
and intricately
designed,
all of my own
creation.

tomorrow morning
i will wake up
with wounds in my
chest the size
of my silence,
but for tonight
i am closing
my eyes
to it all.

for tonight,
i am becoming
the sea.

the dust begins
to settle

the blues fade in
to blacks

the moon casts
her dreamy eyes
far away
from here.

i pull my wounds out
from the inside,
one by one.

i fold them into
paper birds.

i leave them at your
doorstep-
just something
to remember me
by