my fears follow me like shadows
only a step behind
quiet, ever-present
always tethered to my mind

even when night prepares for its slumber
and the light begins to wane,
they dwell beneath my ribs
pounding with relentless pain

they grow in the dark
not through form—but by weight
and not even the rise of morning light
can free me from my haunted state

my soul grows thorns—not roses
yet you rest your head on my lap
like I am something sacred

if love grins
and sinks its fangs into my heart
perhaps I would let it

if love paints my lips
maroon when it kisses
perhaps I would let it

if love wraps its arms
around me in a suffocating embrace
perhaps I would let it

for if love was to forsake
nothing but scars and wounds
perhaps I would still call it holy

and if love leaves
as quietly as it came
perhaps I would still call it love.

the mirror despises
the eyes staring
as if it was just a shell
of what it could've been
another observer
in a hollow body

it doesn't know me
i don't either

I couldn't remember how you liked your coffee
which was strange—I made it every day
Do you like it with sugar? Or just plain?
Would you still have drunk it either way?

I couldn't remember the last time you said goodnight
When you'd crawl into bed and kiss my cheek
Now we sleep like strangers sharing a bed
We barely even touch, we barely even speak

I couldn't remember the last time you felt like home
The way your presence filled up the place
Now the distance is growing like a chasm
And your silence has taken up the space

I couldn't remember how this all started
When there are no words left to say
I don't know how to fix  it—or if I ever will
How strange—to love you less than yesterday

when I was six,
I always asked my mom
to check under my bed
she'd smile, tuck me in
and say, “it's all in your head”

the monster—in my mind
hid in the shadows
and kept me awake
left me with an uneasy feeling
I just can't seem to shake

but when I grew up
I didn't fear monsters
not anymore
so I got on my knees
and laid my head on the floor

the monster stared back at me
its eyes colored crimson
but they were meek
not scary, not daunting
just a little weak

it gently reached out to me
with slender fingers
sharp claws in its end
it didn't feel like a foe
but almost like a friend

I found comfort
within the darkness
made peace with the unknown
the monster—wasn't so much of a monster
on the days I felt all alone