The hate is killing me.

These cigarettes hate you.
This beer hates you.
These shots of brandy hate you.
The blunt hates you.

But I swear I still love you.

Mass graves breathing,
like beached jellyfish.
Ketchup packet pastels
painting a diner dish.
I sit and imagine
so many things and more.
I smoke ribbons of grey
that dance around
the diner door.

The people move
and have so much to say.
Watch them scurry and hurry
through the invisible day.
The sun's colors bounce off
weekly washed windows.
And I suffer from the certainty
that my fulfilled dreams
will fulfill me,
as I flick ashes into the world
for the wind to carry away,
dragging shadows.

I will drag my knife along your skin,
sharp blade down into your fragile, shaking canvas,
incising an increasing beat of whimpers and whines.
Please hold still. I promise this will hurt.

I will expose your clattering bones,
rip out your chattering teeth,
erase every impugned utterance
you muttered against me.
I will carve my letters slowly
on your unzipped frame,
sliding the burgundy blood across to
blot
       clot
              dot.    

This is only preparation for what is about to follow.

I will puncture your throbbing organs,
slash your stretched cartilage
with an unwritten script.
Before I press further,
I’ll assure you, you are still alive.

I will twist each phrase,
haunt you to believe it is your fault,
force you to beg the slightest escape.
I will permanently etch my name
deep in the frozen chambers
of your quivering heart.

I will open up the blueprint as a demolition expert,
remove whole fractions of your fractured soul,
leave you a horrid wreck in the abyss
of a mess you just made.

You will not get rid of me,
though no trace of evidence is left behind.

My hands have been clean from the start.

I thought about you
Just last night
And how we made love
One last time
And the way you wanted me
Had to have me
Like suddenly
Your ****** desires
Had been awakened
I remember the way you licked me
Like you were sorry you hadn't
For all those months
Like your tongue was spelling
Sorry into my skin
If I had known
That would be my last kiss
From you or anyone
I wouldve asked you
To swallow the ham sandwich
Just a little better
Or for you to kiss me
Just a little longer
Had I known
Or had I believed
The look in your eyes
We would still be
But alas I had finally learned
No matter how much you
Say you love me
You will still leave me
You will still
Say I'm not quite good enough
Had I known that I would never
See you again
I still would've held you closer
And rubbed your back
Or run my fingers through your hair
I would've begged for you to accept me
To just love me
But I was shattered when we made love
That's why I cried after
Because I knew
Deep down
I knew
I would lose
The one man I loved
Forever
I knew he would never
Hold me again
As I nestled my body into him
I just,
I knew.

When grey skies cloud my mind, he shows me how the sun can shine.
When loneliness takes over, he places his hand in mine.

When my teardrops produced rivers, his shoulders provide my dam.
When my confidence deserts me, he reminds how clever I am.

When at night I feel a chill, he cloaks me in his arms.
When fear takes a hold of me, he protects me from lives harms.

I shall always love him, his smile, his gentle ways.
My husband, my lover and my friend, forever throughout our days.

I keep writing "she" in my poems instead of "I" because I'm afraid of letting people know what's really going on inside my head, of knowing that I am the one who's been in so much pain for so long and not this "she" character everyone thinks I created. I don't tell anyone because then they will look deeper, and the deeper they'll look, the darker the images they'll see. Their curiosity will get them looking and wondering the thing I'm hiding behind the fake laughs. My insanity will be an interest of theirs and not me. I will simply be an interesting story to gossip about.

I honestly can't tell you when was the last time I laughed or even smiled (not even my favorite TV shows or favorite comedians can make me laugh). I only know about the long crying myself to sleep nights. The desperate continuous prayers. Laughing became forbidden, a sin that my mind is refusing to let me commit.

I've been running through this tunnel for so long looking for that light everyone keeps talking about. But the faster I run, the further I go, the longer the tunnel seems to get. I don't see a way out of here.

Sleeping used to be my temporary way out but even that, the sadness managed to take over it. It has taken over everything, became everything that I am. I've lost interest in everything and everyone. It's like I'm living in a nightmare and I know there is no better reality to wake up to. Do you know how that feels like? To be hopeless all the time even when you are not awake? To just exist and not live? To be in pain, to feel like you're slowly dying but there's nothing physically wrong with you? To feel like you are in this world alone because no one can see that you are suffering, no one hearing your cries for help, not your friends, not even your family? Do you know how hopeless feels like? I do. And it's killing every lasting bit of me. (And I don't know how much longer I can hold on)

You can travel so far from the plan
doubting your existence is anything worthwhile
only to finally return to yourself
a bit wiser, somewhat refreshed, a bit more confirmed in your steps.