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Jan 4 · 22
solus Jan 4
the waters are low most days,
somberly licking at my toes.
other times, they are vicious -
a hurricane, a tsunami, an incoherent
scream echoing from one shore to another.
but when i scream, it is silent,
the threat of a storm that never comes,
the violent dark sky that passes unnoticed.
i sit on the shore, letting the water lick
at my toes, while i watch and wait for
that hurricane to contain me so we
scream together and maybe, for once,
mine is the one heard.
Dec 2021 · 42
something about drowning
solus Dec 2021
grief hangs heavy,
guilt swallows my ankles, my knees -
and sometimes i think
i'll really just let them take me under
this time.
Nov 2021 · 32
the lows
solus Nov 2021
you love her
like you never loved me
and that's okay.
finally, it is okay.
i'm happy to see you happy
grateful to see you love
like you always could
despite everything.

but i admit
it hurts
to feel the world moving on
around me
and i am alone
all over again
drowning in new agonies
and healing new wounds

and i am tired of wounds
i am tired of men who could love me better
i am tired of healing
i am tired
i am tired

mostly, i am okay.
mostly, i am okay alone.

but sometimes  i can't help but ache
to be loved
like her.
Nov 2021 · 38
solus Nov 2021
i think of you,
your little shape,
the outline of a
life never meant
to be.

it's alright, most of the time.
you were never really
supposed to be mine.

your little life was already so hard
for both of us, and it would
have only gotten harder.
we would have only gotten

there's a good chance you wouldn't
have made it anyway. there's a good chance
i wouldn't have either.

but i grieve you. who you could have
been. what our life would be like now.

i wanted to want you.
i really did. i almost let you stay.
Oct 2021 · 829
just another notch
solus Oct 2021
i have lost people
i love dearly
to my own doings
and yet you
have caused more damage

never laid a hand on me
but i am still more bruised
than i have ever been -

and you ride your carousel,
hiding your grief in woman
after woman and maybe
you did love me as much
as you said

but maybe you loved me
for what i did for you
and when i stopped
you stopped

and around and around
you go.
Oct 2021 · 830
solus Oct 2021
you walk away clean,
the victim,
like you didn't absolutely
wreck me,
like you didn't leave me
with a ptsd diagnosis
and mountains of
therapy bills.

you get to pretty
up your tinder profile
like an easy-going
guy with a dog and a plate
of food and who
would ever look at you
and think
what an abusive guy.

while i am still here
wondering why
i can't let go,
why am i always
too hurt to live and
too scared to die.
Oct 2021 · 46
solus Oct 2021
in the absence,
the vacancy,
i am alone
with me
and we are
learning how
to sit in silence
together, how to
make dinner for
just us, how to be whole

i am feeling less like
a caricature of myself,
less colored outside the
lines and haphazard
and the more i cut
away at the things which
do not serve, the more
i am my own for the first
time in so long.

to be tethered to no one
but me, i am finally,
finally free.
Sep 2021 · 41
solus Sep 2021
feels too heavy, too full,
a balloon about to burst.
too many unsaid things.
too much anger.
too many unhealed wounds.

and i don't know how to say so.
nobody knows to ask, would even
look for the screaming inside my head
when i've always been so quiet,
so easy.

it's getting too hard and all
i want to be is alone
and all i am is alone

and what a marvel that is.
to want to be alone,
to be alone,
and the silence is suddenly
so deafening.

i can count the days between
messages, between phone calls,
and because i am free

the danger has passed -

i seem fine -
i am not fine.
Sep 2021 · 37
saturday mornings
solus Sep 2021
the silence
Sep 2021 · 61
solus Sep 2021
do i miss you?
i miss a lot of things.
i miss the sound of the garage door
of the house i grew up in.
i miss the toughness
of the acres of yellowing
grass bruising my baby feet.
i miss the smell of chlorine early
in the morning and the
sound of the windchimes in the
late evening.
i miss the sound of the front door
of my first apartment,
i miss the creak of the wood floors
in the old house,
i miss the late nights and the
fearlessness of being 22, 23, 24.
i miss a lot of things that were
impermanent milestones,
and i left them behind
when the  time came.
so when you ask if i miss you,
the answer is yes,
in the same kneejerk
way you miss all the things that
once mattered.
Aug 2021 · 34
bad nostalgia
solus Aug 2021
first, your absence.
second, the wounds.
third, hindsight.
fourth, the betrayal.

grieving your loss,
reliving every ugly moment
without the blinders -
the anger, the anguish,
and i wonder how
it is i am supposed to
do this. to miss you,
to hate you, to see you
for everything you could be,
everything you've become,
to worry about what you
still might do.

i don't know how to carry
all these things and i don't
know how to bandage these
wounds, i don't know how.

i am tired.
i am so tired.
Aug 2021 · 693
solus Aug 2021
letting go is an art form,
untangling from the fears
and the what ifs -
i realize they do not just
vanish, and therein lies
the art.
Aug 2021 · 168
solus Aug 2021
salt in the wound
twenty seven and
still unsettled in a

permanent detachment,
the only kind of

i've laid hands on,
an emptiness that
never fills -

salt in the wound
still here, still here.
Aug 2021 · 43
little disasters
solus Aug 2021
odd is the feeling
of loneliness for a
person who's face
you'd happily
slam a door in.

absence is still an
even when presence
is no longer the safe
option -

i had another dream
about you last night.
an alternate reality:

the baby on my hip,
and you, screaming
yet again in my face.
the bruises became
so easy to lie about
if it meant
you'd never lay a hand
on the baby.

i've felt your breath, hot
on my face, when you're that
angry and i've sworn up
and down to so many people,
that no, no, he'd never lay
a hand on me

but here's a secret:
i was afraid of the day
it would finally happen

and when i close my eyes
and remember your face
in my face, your hot breath,
and the dead in your eyes
and it's hard to admit,
it was only a matter of time.
Aug 2021 · 38
life lessons
solus Aug 2021
i never understood
the ability to remove
someone from your life
without another word
until i experienced
the unforgivable wounds
of unforgivable betrayal
and it finally made all the
sense in the world.

and i can't help but feel like
this is my karma, for leaving
someone i once loved with
the unforgivable wounds
of unforgivable betrayal
and i know it doesn't really
work like that, and that
my guilt and my grief
and my changes have paid
those debts. but i wish
i could go back. i wish
i could undo it, more than
i ever did. i always knew
the hurt i caused, but it's
a much different understanding
when you're on the other side.

but i suppose the greatest
gift i can give us both now
is to let you go, and i did.
it was so hard for so long
and all at once, it was the
easiest thing i've ever done.
Aug 2021 · 43
solus Aug 2021
i had a dream about you
the other night.
the good part of you
came to visit and could
not understand that
when it was time for me
to go, that he could not
come, that he had been gone
for a long time.

i'm not sure why, but it
snuffed out all of my anger.
most of it, anyway.
i have a hard time thinking
badly of you, regardless of
every reason you've given me.
the truth is that you're just
that sad, hurt little boy
and that sadness and that hurt
has corrupted you into a monster,
and rather than anger,
rather than hatred,
the only thing that comes to mind
when i think of you now is

the cruelty of (y)our ending made
it so much easier for me to let you go,
and while i hope you get better
i hope you do it far, far
away from me.
Aug 2021 · 44
thank you
solus Aug 2021
it's a little bit funny
how trauma

for so long, i've had all
these little cuts and bruises
that wouldn't heal

wouldn't heal
for the longest time

until someone came along
and shot me where all
the cuts and bruises

and suddenly those little
cuts and bruises
don't hurt anymore

but would you please
excuse me, darling,
while i go tend
to these exit wounds.
Aug 2021 · 33
solus Aug 2021
leaving an abusive relationship
feels a little like those
anti-smoking ad campaigns,
the ones with a timeline of
all the ways the body heals
after so many days, months,
weeks, without a cigarette.

after one week, your lungs
will fill the fresh air you've
been desperate for for months.

after two weeks, you'll wake
up in the morning and you won't
feel the weight in your chest
for the first time in a long time.

after three weeks, the energy
they stole from you will start
to return.

after one month,
you'll finally start to feel
like yourself again.

i guess the real difference is
i always knew cigarettes were bad
for me.
solus Aug 2021
if i had a portrait
like dorian gray's
i wonder what it
would look like.

i do not look like
my world has shattered
overnight more times
than i can count

and while my scars have faded
quite substantially with time,

they'd probably bleed
through the portrait -

the blood running down my wrists
the blood running down my thighs.
solus Aug 2021
you were a lesson in
how not to be loved,
a lesson in the destruction
of self-loathing men.
you might be happy to know,
though, you're no longer
the worst thing
that ever happened to me.

it's taken a long time for me
to forgive you, and to forgive
myself. maybe if we'd been older,
more patient. it's taken a long time
for me to be able to let you go,
but i will always think kindly
of you, and i wish you well.
truly. and it's okay if you never
feel the same.

maybe it wouldn't have been
bad timing
if we had just waited for
better timing.
i am still so sorry for how i cut you
while i was still bleeding.

i have never wished to unmeet someone
as much as i wish i'd never met you.
disease. slow-spreading. malicious.
you took away my voice, my story.
you watched me waste away, watched
me nearly bleed to death, watched me
agonize for months, and still used it
as ammunition when you lost me.
you're a sham of a man and
i will never forgive you.
Aug 2021 · 400
solus Aug 2021
for the wounds
i've left in my wake
in the mess of my own pain -

and yet, i have already
paid so dearly,
so many times over, even in
my own blood.

so when, pray tell,
do i stop paying?
Aug 2021 · 48
solus Aug 2021
i think the worst part of
loving you is realizing
the you
i loved
never existed
at all.

that i wasted
all this time on you
that i wasted so
much of me when
i already had so
little left

how easy it was
for you to take it

and now here i am
yet again with open
bloodied hands

and wounds far
deeper than
i've ever had

it was so hard
to do this again
to love again

and god i wish
i hadn't done it
with you.
Aug 2021 · 41
solus Aug 2021
i told my therapist what you did today
and she was speechless.
and you know therapists hear
all sorts of terrible things
every day so i hope you understand
the gravity
of that.

she called you evil, and i hope you
understand the gravity of that too.
Aug 2021 · 40
for your guilt
solus Aug 2021
i hope it burns
i hope you choke
on every word
i hope it haunts you
i hope it hurts

i hope you get everything you deserve.
Jul 2021 · 41
solus Jul 2021
it must be
so easy to hurt
so easy to harm
you learned
to handle me
so easily

that i barely noticed
until you were the one
to tell me, my abuser,
that this is abuse.

what it is to love
somebody who hurts
you, what it is to love
them like they don't.
Jul 2021 · 204
solus Jul 2021
it's a bad day
today and

every loss
has visited me
this week

and not a single
one of them
stings any less.
Jul 2021 · 52
solus Jul 2021
coffee still makes me
nauseous sometimes

can't eat some of my
favorite foods anymore

can't think of halloween
without the halo of
the suffering you brought

not that i really thought
you'd take it with you
when i sent you away  

but i still think of you
and the you that could have been

if i were stronger

every time that last bit of coffee
makes my stomach turn

and i feel like maybe this is
the price i pay,

a lifelong haunting
a lifelong what if

burned into all the little
things i do

every single day.
Jul 2021 · 50
missing pieces
solus Jul 2021
it all goes back to that one
little moment
the pill in my hand
the table underneath
my elbows
the floor underneath
my feet.

i wish i would have given it back.
i wish i would have said no.
i wish i would have listened to
that terrified little voice in the back
of my head that this would be too

i swallowed it.
let ecstasy swallow my life.
it's been years now
and i still feel like
i never really got it back.
Jul 2021 · 1.1k
y o u
solus Jul 2021
the jagged pieces
left behind
are too many
to hold

they cut my
leave my skin

and raw

and i can't
put them down
can't give them

they were gifts,
Jul 2021 · 51
solus Jul 2021
it is an
a hole that
Jul 2021 · 61
solus Jul 2021
i wish i could just
float away with the

to something
to nothing

it hardly matters
these days
Jul 2021 · 128
solus Jul 2021
it is an unbearable ache
to be so acquainted with loss
and still so pained by it
each and every time.
Jul 2021 · 259
bad and blue
solus Jul 2021
if you ever wonder if i miss you

i do.
Jun 2021 · 52
solus Jun 2021
i write about you too much.
my friends and family have
grown sick of hearing about you,
i think. i don't blame them, it's been
years and i should be over it
by now.

i am not.
it is the wound
that will not heal,
the scab i pick
and pick and pick,
always angry,
always sore,
always there.

i don't know how to fix it.
i don't know how to remove you
from the foreground of my mind
and i am just as sick of it
as everyone else.
Jun 2021 · 63
solus Jun 2021
maybe i am choking
maybe the love you feed me
is poison, is ash,
maybe the hands you lay
on me are hands to harm
not to hold

maybe i am so used to
love that hurts that you
are swallowing me, stealing
all of my leftover parts
and maybe
i am such a fool
to let you.
Jun 2021 · 176
solus Jun 2021
one morning
in our kitchen
over coffee
i told you
you were the love of my life
and you didn't say it back
didn't really say anything

and i don't know why it
took me so long to realize
it was because
i just wasn't.
Jun 2021 · 54
eternal sunshine
solus Jun 2021
you loved me healed,
left me sick.

blamed me
for the mess you made.
Jun 2021 · 69
solus Jun 2021
every day
***** the air out of my lungs
a little more

and I wonder how
much longer
they expect me to keep going
like this

suffocating with a smile
Jun 2021 · 39
solus Jun 2021
I miss it.
even the bad days.
even the worst days.

all of it.
I wasn't happy
or whole or better
but I was more

put together. closer
to happy and whole
and better than I've
ever been.

I don't want to miss you.
either of you.
and I don't know that it's
missing you

in the sense of wanting
you back as much as
missing the version of me
that loved that life.

or thought I did.
why do we hold so tight
to things that harmed us
simply because we love
Jun 2021 · 39
the burning
solus Jun 2021
you would be here.
all brand new and
small and pink and
real and mine.
i can still see so
clearly your little
fingers and toes
on the ultrasound
that didn't quite
tilt all the way out
of my view.

most days, i realize that
we were not meant for
each other, that your life
would already be that much
harder, simply because I would be
your mother.

but there are days like today,
where i meet my friends' babies
with their bright, fresh little eyes
and sweetness and love and i
wonder what my life would be
like if i'd let you stay.

and this is what they don't tell you-
how sometimes the right choices made for all the right reasons
hurt like hell, how they become their own kind of grief.
May 2021 · 34
you you you you
solus May 2021
my grandmother said an interesting thing
the other day
that i left half of my heart with you
when we parted ways
and i haven't felt right since.
but really, i haven't felt right since
the parting
of the ways.

it's a cruel thing, i think.
that you kept so much of me.
that the love i have left
is so conditional  on what i gave
you, that i can't love anybody the
way i loved you. and you didn't
deserve it.

you never apologized for the ways
you broke me, made me feel less
than, made me feel like a burden.
you never apologized for loving me
in such a way that i was just a pile
on the ground when it was finally

you left with anger and harsh words
and left all that blame at my feet
and i can't expect
an apology
can't expect anything from you.

i guess what really hurts after all this time
is how easily you've moved on
and i'm still here, in our wreckage.
and it's not even that i still love you
or really that i even miss you.
it's just that i don't have me anymore,
not the way i used to you.
and maybe it was the ecstasy,
maybe it was something else,
but of all the everything that i lost
because of you

i miss me the most.
and i'll never forgive you
for the way you took me
and smeared me across the walls
to cover up your own crimes.
May 2021 · 45
dead friends and romances
solus May 2021
fragile boy
too weak to
shoulder any

I am not the resting place
for your guilt,
for your regret,
for your shame.

and how dare you
leave me to clean up
your mess.
Mar 2021 · 65
solus Mar 2021
i think
i made you

when i let you in

i think in trying
to let you make yourself
at home

i gave you
real property

put your name
on the deed.

don't live there

don't visit
don't write
     and that's okay

we've long since
gone our

parallel lines


but what a greedy thing
to do

like that

but still keeping
your little plot of land.
solus Mar 2021
the fear
that after all this
time, all this
mess, all this

that I will only lose
you to the
war in your
Mar 2021 · 42
one ending, another
solus Mar 2021
the way it feels to lose -
the unbecoming of
souls never whole
to begin with,
the ruination, the
constant chatchatchatter
of unanswered thoughts
and untended wounds,
how the disruption
flows from one disaster
to the next, a never-ending
cacophony of whywhywhywhy
until one day the
blade doesn't hurt
the gun isn't so heavy
the pills don't taste
so bad

it is one thing to be told
to use a sharper knife next time.

it is entirely different
to be told I will one day lose you
to the echo and you

why I am so scared
to push forward
when the image of
finding your body, your brains,
spread out across
the bathroom haunts me
almost as much as the
image of someone someday
finding my own.
Mar 2021 · 56
this town
solus Mar 2021
there's a trail of my blood
that runs from one of this
town to the other, right
up the steps to my front

this town has seen
all my ugliest moments
and yet I am still here,
sleeping in the same bed
cooking at the same stove,
living in the same house
I have already grieved
so many losses in.

this town is home and hell
and I want to escape just
as much as I never want
to leave and it depends
on the sky and it depends
on the day and it depends
if I see your faces, or my own,
in all the memories it carries.
Mar 2021 · 39
part 1
solus Mar 2021
my therapist asked me to take inventory of what I need -
to think of myself in my moments of trauma and
give myself the love I needed but didn't have.
these are the questions I don't have answers to -
what do I need now? what did I need then?
a hand to hold mine while I walked, soaking
in my own blood, halfway across town
because I was too scared to ask for help?
what did I need in that clinic, looking
at the shape of the child I couldn't keep?
someone to tell me it's okay? someone to
take my hand and run?

I think of her sometimes. I am quite certain it
would have been a her. I think of her little
body inside of me, starving and struggling
just as much as I was, and I feel guilt. guilt
for this body that couldn't sustain us both.
guilt for giving her an identity in my mind
when she wouldn't ever be /anything/. guilt
for not wanting her. guilt for how quick
and impossibly difficult the choice was. I feel
loss. how can you grieve a being you never
intended to keep? never wanted? how can I
feel loss when she was never mine in the first
solus Mar 2021
every quaking breath,
every flash of memory,
every little puzzle piece
I could never make fit -

absence, too, is a gift.
Feb 2021 · 46
solus Feb 2021
we take what we can get
but the well never fills -
water slips through fingers
and again and again
we are left begging
with open, empty hands.
Feb 2021 · 534
straight lines
solus Feb 2021
a lot of reasons
a lot of excuses
a lot of whys
and all that really
matters is that
we are capable of
hurting each other
like this.
when do we stop?
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