I stood there: laughing/crying
being
strong
for every one else.

what could my tears accomplish

comfort would not heal
what was
broken. what was lost.

I can be Strong. When EverY One is LooKing.

And then in the pictures, I saw the future.

The rewrites.  or "unwrites" writing me out of her past. blame and anger. of course you know, it was all my fault.

And I don't need comforting. from you. from anyone. All i need is a little acknowledgement from the people who loved her most.

that said, "hey, I loved her too. I know what you must be feeling."

Because even though I don't have that last memory, I have a million others.
i am privy to your secrets, her secrets.

and despite what you believe, you are not alone.

you may choose to be .

But this is me standing up and saying I LOVED HER TOO. ALMOST AS MUCH AS YOU IF NOT AS MUCH. I have lost too bro.

and I am broken
and feel alone.
and can't make sense of sunlight, water, or peace.

a cautionary tale. not a legend.

When I cry I smile to life
Energy injected my projected sorrows
I am the one who cries words and my pen I shall
Into a torch transform
Steal the fire from the Gods
and bathe my mischief in red waters

But when my smile vanishes
And my colours are by the unforgiving black cunningly abducted
Then my soul I shall kiss goodnight
And with the icy knife of sedation
In the quiet night ****** it
Do not forget!
I am the one who writes
The one who shadows unwrites
and exorcises fears
Heavens now I cry!
Let it rain...

Waking, or not.
Walls fold inward, thin-breathing.
Something hums behind what isn’t there.

Steps press into steps,
press into steps, press—
A door flickers. A mirror drowns.
A bed forgets its shape.

Somewhere, a hand reaching, unmade.
Somewhere, a voice, air-thin, unvoicing.
Drink, it says.
But the cup is hunger, the milk is grit,
and my mouth is borrowed.

Leaving, or not.
The door unshuts, the light unwrites,
and I am—