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typhany May 1
it doesn’t exist
because it is
so locked away
so far away
from prying eyes

peeping toms
and nosy nancys
see only a wall;
they never realize...
i’m on the other side

i am safe
in the grey areas
outside of memory
so i, too
see only a wall

i keep myself
stuck, trapped
here,
between memory
and the now

i still feel it
but the memory
isn’t here
why did you tell me
not to forget
written on: 1.27.2019
typhany May 1
you smothered me
for crying
too loud
written on 2.02.2019 about a previous experience
typhany May 1
sitting
outside
i allow myself
a breath
through the pain

the wind
moving
alive and free
pitter patters
against my face

the sunlight
feels anew
but diluted;
thoughts
clouding beauty

i pull myself
open
asking for warmth
yet, cool breezes
push by

i ache
for a touch
of the sun;
so much,
i’d die for it
written on: 2.18.2019
t. phoenix
typhany Dec 2018
My chest becomes ice
It freezes slowly,
Over my ribs
Crawling past my shriveled, open lungs
It’s so cold here
I feel this and nothing else
I feel this, nothing else
typhany Dec 2017
but i am putting it down
until it hurts
and grips me vicariously
'til i'm twisted around-
i'm turned into a mug's handle

it's the same plastic feeling
i had before
i miss the solid glass,
and the strips of wood
i teased with my angel fingers

the mirror couldn't see me
today
i didn't let it.
how could i?
my eyes are too small, here

shaggy planet earth
was invaded in 1981
beginning with my first soul:
i was so young
i didn't know better

tossed out, i'm left to drink up
the abundance of this world.
swallowing more light and dark
than my small eyes can;
i turned to ethanol.

hemingway entered my life
in the fall of '09
i couldn't have been more in love.
maybe that's why
i'm pen in one hand, drink in the other.
typhany Sep 2017
less than i should,
i keep these foamy
fog-soaked memories
on hold-
pleading with the gods
"no yelling, not tonight"
and the rain relents

i feel a little safer
with just a few clouds
the stability is warm
unlike my hands,
and the majority of my heart
but i'm still here-
right?

or am i just pretending,
sometimes i do bleed
just to check if i am still alive.
sometimes i don't want to breathe-
that's okay too;
i'm on my journey
i'll find my way
a lot of xanax goodnight
typhany May 2017
two broken bones,
a sprained ankle,
an abusive relationship,
depression,
and mania

i am sensual,
and smart
filled with anger
and compassion;
i am so lonely

no happy birthday,
no beautiful love story,
no more good days,
no more happy endings
no hope

a ten day jail sentence
two stays in detox
not enough meetings
too many drugs
and a lust for change

i'm nineteen
and these years
already weigh me down
with all of their force
relentlessly
i feel broken
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