Sleepmonger,
deathmonger,
with capsules in my palms each night,
eight at a time from sweet pharmaceutical bottles
I make arrangements for a pint-sized journey.
I'm the queen of this condition.
I'm an expert on making the trip
and now they say I'm an addict.
Now they ask why.
WHY!

Don't they know that I promised to die!
I'm keeping in practice.
I'm merely staying in shape.
The pills are a mother, but better,
every color and as good as sour *****.
I'm on a diet from death.

Yes, I admit
it has gotten to be a bit of a habit-
blows eight at a time, socked in the eye,
hauled away by the pink, the orange,
the green and the white goodnights.
I'm becoming something of a chemical
mixture.
that's it!

My supply
of tablets
has got to last for years and years.
I like them more than I like me.
It's a kind of marriage.
It's a kind of war where I plant bombs inside
of myself.

Yes
I try
to **** myself in small amounts,
an innocuous occupatin.
Actually I'm hung up on it.
But remember I don't make too much noise.
And frankly no one has to lug me out
and I don't stand there in my winding sheet.
I'm a little buttercup in my yellow nightie
eating my eight loaves in a row
and in a certain order as in
the laying on of hands
or the black sacrament.

It's a ceremony
but like any other sport
it's full of rules.
It's like a musical tennis match where
my mouth keeps catching the ball.
Then I lie on; my altar
elevated by the eight chemical kisses.

What a lay me down this is
with two pink, two orange,
two green, two white goodnights.
Fee-fi-fo-fum-
Now I'm borrowed.
Now I'm numb.

And if the piano breaks it's because each time you kiss me it feels like I've taken a bullet to the brain.
Today, I looked into your eyes and saw nothing but forever.
I think that maybe, if you took my hand, we could fight infinity.

I've never believed in God, but ****, I think you're my religious awakening; THIS is a baptismal revival.
I think I was dead until the day we met- you give me life.
Whispers: "safe, safe, safe."
She strikes a key to play me out of tune.

What does she look like in the dark?
What do you wear when you're alone? (I wear the black pendulum)
Seastar, starfish, lover, oh how I'm suffocating on my anguish.
Convince me to forgive him, and then I will try and forgive myself for all that he has broken.
For the ***** nights, the rancid sheets, ten years of filth- it would take an eternity to scrub out my stains- ugly.
Whispers: "****, ****, ****."
Screams: "daddy please, daddy no, daddy no, stop it!"
It's hushed up by the sounds of the broken piano- the unforgiving black sacrament.

Steel and skin, forgiveness and pain.
You can only hide for so long; sleepmonger, deathmonger, counting sheep. When will these childhood nightmares end?! Oh.

So, 1, 2, 3, 4, who's that looming at my door?
5, 6, 7, 8, he calls it love, she calls it ****.
9, 10, 11, 12, he put her though ten years of hell.
13, 14, 15, 16, who could love her scars- so distinct?
17, 18, 19, 20, fall for me; so sick of running.

(a.m.) 05/05/14

You are a tremendous overthinker
that's for sure. Taking a person like
you on.. with all your chaos
is no small task.
  In order to do that,
I have to take care of myself..
in order to keep from being
pulled down.. or pulled into
your chaotic whirlwind.
  So I create parameters of protection
through my words sometimes
when we talk.

You are not an easy person to take on.

  There are few people in the world
that are even able to truly take on a person
like you, within any kind of depth.
  That is how chaotically traumatized
the inside of your whole beautiful
body is. And somehow you take it
personally when I try to bring
structure in,.  as though you're three
years old,
  and you take regular grown up talk
  as being some kind of threat.
  But.. you are fragmented  and ripped
to shreds on the inside  by those
who truly brought harm
instead of good when you were little.  
  From that place inside of you, a
anything feels like judgment.
Anything feels like it's trying to control you
or put things inside you.

I know that.. and I still love you

  Loving a person in your condition
requires a certain level of self protection.
It's like I have to tie a
special rope around myself when I
jump into your world..  so I can be
pulled back out.
  For me..
The structure of my own words are that rope.
  It is the only way I can love you deeply
and enter into your absolutely broken world
  Please try to understand..
even though it scares you..

Just how much I need that

  If you are able to do that,
then I think you might even be able
to actually love me.
I did not come to steal,
or control..
  .. or fix

I came to be there for you

within all of your broken chaos