Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

fear is a leech
it's drinking in
the moments
i was meant to have

i live with less
than i deserve
and now it controls me
and changes my future

it doesn't console me
it's tolerable but
uncomfortable and
not at all comforting

wasting my purpose
or was the journey
always predetermined?

this and that
yes and no
would my choices
be what my fear owned?

a book titled
how to stop
being this way
i try to end it, but i
can't turn the page

am i altering the past
by changing my course of action?
am i terribly afraid
i'm moving in the wrong direction?

you can't do it for the outcome
you have to do it for yourself

when will i get there
this unknown place of peace
the realm where i'm healed
and i only know relief

i don't want to wait until i die
i want to taste it while i'm alive

am i trying too hard?
every time it's been a
confrontation, it becomes a
learning experience

how to move through the world
genuinely

trauma is blocking me off
and trapping me inside
the road there is closed
its a dead end,
there's no way out

how does one
make a decision
on the fly?

who am i?
when i don't know myself
i've been too busy
trying to make it
to this point
that i understand how i got here,
but i didn't recognize myself
when i arrived.

if the future is foreseen
then why should i try
to evolve with force
if it's to come naturally

i can't get there
without the history
of my life behind me
the way it's meant to be

the concept of acting natural
is idealized,
imagined,
relatable

i can fathom it
contemplate it
see what it is
and what it's meant to be
but it doesn't
happen for me

nothing will get better
if you can't heal
from the ordeal
the road there
is constant
debilitating
and unnerving

if i'm not where i'm supposed to be
then how long should i wait?
i've been patient all my life
where is the period
where i dominate?

would i screw up the timeline
by creating scenarios
in real life
that are products
of an act
similar to child's play

would it
pull me away
from what i'm supposed know
i am the snake
suggesting the apple

or was i always meant to do it?

it was always supposed
to be this way,
right?

the situation would resolve
itself like this, wouldn't it?

do you think
everything will
end up
being okay?

what is to become of me
if i can't even
make a simple decision
without worrying
it is wrong
and i am wrong

my one mistake
shakes me up
like an earthquake
i'm convinced
that it's fate

every choice
is life and death
how am i still
alive, where is
the end
of the story,
will luck favor me
and what i decide?

Chapter Text

he watches the woods everyday
pacing the imaginary perimeter
eyes green like the grass he hides in
he wears a suit
sleek and shiny
but his day job does not
have a dress code
it doesn’t require
black tie apparel

after a long day of work
he comes to the front yard
to greet her
sauntering over
embracing her presence
his tail held high
steady as a tree trunk
the excitement to see her
"oh, my darling,"

he nudges the length of her body
they smell each other
chirping and purring
they walk next to the other
pressing so close
they almost fall over
topsy turvy, encircling,
swirling and curling
meshed together as one
the tips of their tails
entwined
the emotion is palpable
you can feel their admiration
for the other

they share food
from the same plate
they wait for the other
to eat their supper
they lick their paws clean
and nuzzle the other
behind the ears
suckling with teeth
on their partners cheeks
cleansing them from
the life in the outdoors
bringing them back
to their life together

grooming and bathing together
after they roll around in the dirt
in the driveway
pouncing and playing
jumping on the other
chasing like
they’re playing tag
they don’t play to win
the prize is to
be with each other

as long as i’m with you

during the winter
they slept together
in the garage
sharing a heated tent
it was bought to keep them
warm and content
the weather
never stopped them
from coming home
at least four to six winters
passed in this way
they were with each other
every step of the way

they share a lawn chair
when winter comes to an end
wrapped up in each other
resting in the sun
i see them sleeping
they wake up and ask me
with their eyes
why i bother them
i just want to
admire them

a love that transcends words
i do not know if love
is strong enough to describe
the affection and connection
they have together
it can’t be verbalized
or translated
it can only be felt
through observation
i’ve watched them for years
ten minutes of watching
would be enough
to understand
the adoration
they feel

i haven’t seen him in over two weeks.

i fear for the worst
i can’t be outside
i just think of her
she cries with every step
she dines like she’s
going through the motions
i think he’s really gone
i think she’s over living her life

was he protecting her the whole time?
did he sense something out there
beyond the tree line
thinking about it
is horrifying

i picture
under the cover of night
the shadow of dusk
a predator
or plural
staring him down
growling at him
his eyes going wide

i just want to get back to her
who will ensure her safety
if not me

did he willingly let himself go
under the guise
that it would protect her?

the chase begins
he’s running for his life
trying to run to his wife
could she hear the attack?
the yowling sounds he made
the echo of his footsteps
the moment hope was lost
the second
there was no more life
the screech after
a successful hunt

two souls were torn apart
when he disappeared

how helpless she must have felt
i try so hard
to not feel
what she’s feeling
the sorrow,
despair,
the anguish,
like someone
licked their fingers
and squashed the flame
lights out
behind her eyes
lights out
to the love of her life

shedding tears and blood
i’ve been trying to find him
i can’t communicate with her, but
i talk to her in my sweetest voice
i lean my hand forward
and look away
hoping she’ll smell me
take a step to me
the olive branch
of one finger
wishing she’d use me
to itch her chin
a stepping stone
but she’s always been shy,
to herself, antisocial
she doesn’t care
for contact
with people

i try to show her through gestures
multiple trips to the backyard
past the tree line
scared i will find him
that i’ll see how he died
but also, relieved
that i haven’t
found him

walking in shorts
through nature’s blades
all taller than me
it’s too damp
out there
to mow
it’s become
a forest
all it’s own

my legs cut up by thorns
the residue making me itch
going until i can’t
get through
the weeds
clothes and flesh
snagged on
the plants
are they trying
to keep me
from what
i want to find?

searching for
the smell of decay
a tuft of fur
leading to a trail
or the buzzing of flies
scanning every step
following paths
formed by months
of routine
by feet
that aren’t mine

feeling like i will find him
one day
but wishing i didn’t
feel this way
wondering if he’s laying
strewn apart
outside a den
a dismembered skeleton
standing still thinking,
will i ever see him again?

i would suffer for her
i would reflect her agony
if i found him
i’d bring him
back home
to her
wrapped up in plastic
a towel for comfort
so she wouldn’t see
and be traumatized further
by what he endured
i wouldn’t allow her
to look

the thought
of going through that
is hard enough
but the concept
of my struggle
is always vanquished
when i picture
what she feels
every second
of every minute
of every hour
of every day
since her man
has gone away

i never imagined it like this
or pictured it this way
when they went
i assumed it would be
from dying of old age
that’s what i envisioned
for them
nothing else
seemed possible
there was no good way
to end the story
but this has been
the worst outcome
that was never
even fathomed

i mourn in silence
for both of them
not for myself
and how i feel
i’m still just
an observer
i lived outside their lives
the reader
to their story
turning the pages
but there was no warning
when it became a tragedy
i guess i shouldn’t have been surprised
the best love stories
never end well

i want to quiet my mind
but it's not fair to do so
when i see
that she hurts
so much more
it doesn't
feel fair
that i could just
push it away
it's her life everyday

the cruelty
of reality
and all of the possibilities
if only they
could evade me
but it won't
it continues to haunt me
like running on a track
i always come back
to where it began

he never strayed
from the yard
he refused
to cross the street
if he was more sociable
i could pretend
a stranger drove by
and picked him up
and took him away
that doesn't make
it hurt any less
i know he was too fast
he could not have been caught
by a person

realism continues
to cut through
any fantasy
i create, when i'm
trying to avoid
and ignore
the worst of what
could have happened

i think only
one thing could stop him
from seeing her again
he would never
make the choice
to abandon her
the decision
was always her

listening to peepers
and crickets
after midnight
feels like hearing
the precursor
to the worst day
or the last day
of their lives
what felt like
pure tranquility
just relaxing outside
now overshadowed
by the possible omens
of what could happen
of what would happen
and what did happen
i’ll never truly know.

Chapter Text

water pouring into a basin
as you spoon feed me
the depth
of your emotions

a pressing down
in my chest
from heavy pressure

a breath in,
a shaky inhale,
deep from within

the clutch of my breath
is 
stalling the engine
i slide into neutral
and watch you,
ladling the liquid
into my mouth

i'm stalling again

the floor to your river,
i'm swept up
in your undertow

see how the bucket fills
?
observe the motions
of the flow

splashing in my psyche
,
you're the sky
to the surface
of my lake

give and take,
reciprocation
you replenish my earth
i nourish your heavens

no such thing
as a drought
and my oceans
won't dry out

we do this
constantly and
consistently

the land
changes and
rearranges

two rivers
connecting
becoming
one

where do you stop
and where do i begin?

two paths
embarked on a journey
that came out
the other side
into something
bigger than themselves

mixing together,
existing together,
the concept
of separation
is impossible,
the current
is unstoppable

you discover
the ends of me
as you become
a part of me

allowing the breeze
to move you

the way you let fate
take the reins

as you 
skim above
the rocks on my edges
memorizing
their dimples,
their form,
their posture

you're rushing
to count
the grains
of sand
 on my beach,
an improbable task
but you never give up

capturing
every corner
with a lick
on the crest
of my waves

grazing me
with your catastrophes
,
don't be shy
or bashful from me

let me live in the storm
pull me into
your mind
and let me
see how
it is inside

it is only fair
that i too
must dabble
into your beginnings

show me
the mouth
of the stream
where you came from
,
before you
joined up
with me

allow me
to know you now
in this moment,
before i
contemplate
the next
one with you

they say
you never step
in the same river
twice,
let me dissolve
into you
and love you
all my life.

Chapter Text

***

zoning out
without a doubt
out of the window
out of the house

self absorbed
paralysis
but i'm not
a narcissist

spacing out and
staring so far
into my mind,
i'm transcending
the stars

severed connection
from the waist down
sucked into my head
a vortex in a cloud

___

i can feel
my body breathing
but my soul
is up above

it doesn't fill up
the whole area
the matter inside
is nothing
but dust

___

the physical feeling
of being pulled
into your thoughts

yanking the rope
and recoiling
violently

(sitting still
in the familiar
reflex)

___

fingertips
without sensation
toes are numb

like all of my circulation
is being supplied
to my brain

being aware that
i'm in my body,
but it's not registering,
it's rendered irrelevant

___

the essence
of who i am
is trapped
inside it's cage

the confines are not
from lack of
creativity,
but from being chained
to one place

nothing physical
was moved,
observe the
intangible
force of motion

imagination unbridled,
taking it as
it comes, and
letting it be
whatever
it will become

___

you won't find me
in my hands,
up my arms,
or down into my chest

what use would
i be in my legs,
when in my head
i can travel all day?

being aware when
i'm crossing the border,
breaking the threshold,
feeling my eyes
growing bolder

i can feel it
in my face
blink blink blink,
trying to make
a u-turn

___

let the limits
of my spirit
touch every end
inside my skin

let me cradle
all of my innards,
not just crowd
inside my head

___

double vision
can be
performed
at will

peering into
nothing
letting my lights
darken out

eyes are open,
they take in
the information
they receive

but i cannot
see it,
nor can i
comprehend it

all i see,
in my inner scene,
is a movie screen

a front row seat
as i watch what
it conjures up
for me

___

self awareness,
what is the point
when you can't
snap yourself
out of it?

___

hopelessness,
"i know that
it's happening,
but what can i do?"

making an effort
having to focus
repeating to myself,
"i need to stop"

back and forth
goes my head,
right to left
twists my neck

like i can just
step out of the lake
and shake this off
and walk away dry

___

coming out of
self induced
hypnosis

an unintentional
journey
a destination
with no plan

___

i can feel the tension
coming up
behind my eyes

feeling them widen
then they go dry

tingles snaking
all from behind
my face

all of my skin
relaxing
letting gravity
drag it down

hanging the mask
on the hook,
i'll wear it
another day

___

separating you
from time, but
it takes
you away
from yourself

no way to
measure
or quantify
the loss

___

"how long was
i gone for?
i felt so
far away

"how many times
has this happened
today?
and for each time
how long
did it last?"

then, shall we
measure the years?
the severity, and
all that i've missed?

___

as above
so below,
inside heals
outside grows

***

Chapter Text

can you hear it?
when you listen
to a song,
and you can feel
when you should
press on the gas

listening to
your hand
waving out
the window

the sound of air
passing by in
a rhythm

beating on
the outside
beaming on
the inside

going to the
amusement park
and
getting on the ride
that goes very high

and drops

the way it drags you down,
you're moving forward
but it's pulling you back

lifting you off of the seat
you're in the moment
there's no looking back

 
rising soft tissue
resting right
behind your sternum

how it feels
like when you
stifle a breath

the tightness
in your chest
the pressure in
your solar plexus
 

it twists
the cords
just a
bit

blood vessels
played
like violin
strings

being picked at
with fingers
making your
heart sting

an unidentified
emotion
the weight
of it felt

 
electricity
traveling
through wires

a shock
right to
your core

does it not

hurt so good?

it leaves you
begging

wanting
for more

 
the pang that
makes your
soul melt

dripping down
your ribcage
to the soles
of your feet

a heated
golden
glow

reaching for
every last
fibre

tangents
connecting
the insides

tied together
branching out
to your outline

the feeling
of the emotion
being held
within you

the memory
always accompanies
the physical
reaction

embedded forever
yet there’s
never enough
of them.

Chapter Text

You can choose to forgive others
but you usually can’t forget
what transpired between you.

If it didn't happen,
you wouldn't remember it
,
you imagine that both of these
apply to your experience.

Remembering is
the part
that hurts
the most.

An insufferable memory,
an inescapable curse.

Learn instead,
to plant a new seed
in the wound
of your soiled garden
,
and your troubled heart.

Give yourself
permission,
despite your lack of
a green thumb,
so you may
smile once again
,
do it for you, and
not just because.

Fertilize it
and let it
sprout wings.

Simultaneously
rooting in the pit
of your soul.

Anchoring into your pain,
interlocked in the toeholds,
a foundation is made
for healing to grow.

You have to
continue living,
 knowing
it was real
despite yourself.

You wish that memory
would betray you
like a false idea,
"it didn't happen."

(Which one was it?
Was it the idea
or the memory
that didn't happen?)

Dodging the question
,
but answering
yourself,

"WHY is this real.”

A brand that leaves a scar,
a marking held by time
in the layers of your skin,
you were never the same
after that.

You don't sway the same way,
the spongy texture
in your bones
is calcifying.

You don't act spry,
you run to hide away,
you sleep all the time,
your soul is showing decay.

You have to stop thinking
in the context
of that person
suffering wants to infiltrate your mind
and make your thoughts
feel less than human.

You wish it didn't affect you
,
causing this effect within you.

No navigation,
running blind,
unaware it is
already lost to time.

It has been over,
and you are here
but you are not there
anymore.

Allow yourself to not think
about the fact
that they managed to exist,
and that they are here, or
that they once were here,
a lurking shadow in your rear
(but spiritual wounds
don't disappear).

See through
a new perspective
,
you can't ignore
your own existence.
Focus on yourself
,
you are nothing
if not yourself.

Engage with what
makes you happy,
throw clay onto
the potter's wheel.

Handfuls of matter
shoveling into your skin
,
your own body dripping
through hard, calloused hands.

Made of clay and bone
let it spin, fingers roam.

Create new art
within yourself
,
make it directly
from your cells.

Let it take up
your space,
all of your time
and attention.

The largest painting
on the wall,
in it you see
your own reflection.

Continuously pursuing,
the moment reaches you
before you're ready,
 you're
struck completely unprepared.

You didn't see it was coming
,
you weren't aware
that this is
what would happen.

You realize that if even
for a short period of time
until the statement in your mind
materialized, that..

You didn't relive the harm of it
,
and you weren't actively going through it.
How was this even possible?
You don't feel as far away.
You never thought
you would've got here,
there was no ribbon
at the finish line.
You kept on running
,
struggling to survive,
but what happened to you
lags further behind.

Only exist
in those moments of peace
,
do not get angry
when the memory disrupts you.

Even if it didn't happen,
you still wouldn't
be happy
all of the time.

Thank your mental process
for reminding you that
you are a survivor.

Not everybody can
live through it,
and feed themselves
a morsel of grace.

Living was your
counterattack
to the offense
and the defense.

You realized
you are always moving on,
you strive to persevere
to a state
of acceptance.

New species bloom
among your flora
,
with ethereal leaves
,
and a gargantuan pistil.

The chamber pressure in your head
continues to wane automatic,
every hit now resembling one
from a single shot pistol.

The bullets diluted,
the feeling not as strong,
once a gaping wound,
now a minuscule scratch.

No assault to your thoughts
burning like showering rain-fire,
the heat is slowly cooling down,
and the sweat starts to evaporate.

The revelation precipitates
into your brain, knowing
that you can actually exist
beyond and past the pain.

Absorbing color and
displaying pigment,
through you
they are refracting.

A kaleidoscope
composed of glass,
point of view sifting
through chroma that’s shifting.

Storms don’t indefinitely stop,
they come and they go,
but you can’t postpone
the change in between
the spring and snow.

The purpose is
to not amplify
what harms you,
because being
consumed by it
depletes
the power
you already possess.

Every second of your life
has created
your behavior
and shaped your being.

Don’t zone in on the trauma,
zoom out, reminiscing on
old times, and molding
new good times,
scatter them dispersed
amongst the timeline.

Even if they’re simple,
even if they’re fleeting.

You are human
and breathing,
life is not an
ever-fulfilling
peach tree.

Applaud your strength
to carry on,
arms loaded up
with baggage and all.

Sometimes, the weight lets up,
other times it feels like too much.

It's easier said than done.
You don't have to speak it, not even once,
all you can do is strive to become
someone who’s not chained to that memory.

Being present
in the moment
leaves the bad times
far away.

Take it second
by second
every second
of the day.

It’s not just wishful thinking
and unattainable lies,
what’s the hurt in trying?

Don’t give it value
in exchange to
spend your life crying.

Struggling to float
on waves that are not gentle,
survival is the prize,
it’s completely mental.

The hardships of it occurring
versus the messy aftermath.

One solidified in a snippet,
the other happening all the time.

You assume that
you'll never obtain peace,
but it's a real possibility,
maybe not in the way you think.

If you pass up
every opportunity,
the possibility of
healing shrinks.

Wouldn't it be something?

To live in what is
currently happening,
and not the memory
that drags you downstream.

You arrive exactly when
you're supposed to be coming,
no time traveling
from the past and the present.

Sometimes the road to progress
is quite stagnant,
but it transforms
with the landscape nonetheless.

Forget forgiving others
if you can't forgive yourself.

Don't assume you wasted time,
when before you might not
have been able to be helped.

Be comfortable
with who you are,
nobody could
endure it like you do.

A present,
the gift of time,
and in return
it will redeem you.

Chapter Text

I ignored the facts
to your detriment,
no apology is large enough.

It's not fair to be
greedy about you.

Your head in my palm,
my other hand hovering
over your lungs.

You paused for
a little too long
a couple of times.

My reaction was rushed,
but seeing you
almost completely still,
made me see
how you look so much
at peace.

A telepathic conversation,
you're showing me
that this is too much.

You can't speak
but I can hear you.

In the way you move your body.
The way you soften your eyes,
blinking at me so slowly.

Over your pain,
you wear a disguise.

Placating me
is worse
then just hurting.

It's not okay,
I can hear it in your sighs.

You're more concerned about me,
I can't stifle my cries.

Chapter Text

My whole body aches
from all of my mistakes.
A bruise in my thoughts
that doesn't subside.

Pressing in on it again,
like tapping the space bar.

The flesh should turn
from white to pink
after applying pressure
and removing the point
of contact, but
it won't graduate,
the memory suspended in
a grade of purple.

A wound that never heals,
like a scab that won't peel.

How do my joints hurt
just from crying?
The knuckles in my hands,
my ankles, elbows, and toes.

Unbelievably sore,
shivering and so cold.

Falling apart from
brittle shattered bones.

You can trace the contusions
of my frame and see
for yourself, where
the markings came from.

Split into two, like
a compound fracture.

Sure, I may have 'mended,'
but my body has changed.

I may be, 'healed,'
but my life was upended.

Calcium supplements
won't make my bones whole,
they will remain that way
until I am old.

My ligaments move different,
and my tendons are strained,
taking Iron won't help,
I will still bruise the same.

Chapter Text

Why do you ask me questions
when you don't like the answer?

Then, you come to me crying
asking for my opinion,
that I have already
shared with you.

Being underestimated is contagious,
I started doing it to myself.

Do you want me to argue,
or stand up for myself?
I won't give in to you,
you want a reason to yell.

I told you three days ago.
You ignored my tears.
Acted irritated with my comments,
tried to push aside my fears.

"It would be nice if you had
something to say about this."

But, I did.
Now you want to act like
I had nothing to say?
Like projecting your guilt
onto me is okay?

How awful that the situation
continues to endure
because of you.

How stupid was I to think
you'd listen to me,
I am just a fool.

You were a part of the problem,
another step in the equation.

Not listening to me,
pretending I wasn't right.
Making me question my sanity
until it really took flight.

Sitting in a psych ward
night after night.
Windows barred, I was
forced to wake up
with the light.

I want to be angry,
I want to shout at you.

Tell you how I feel
but what is the point,
there is no use.

It won't change what you've done,
and you will just blame it on me too,
so I just have to sit in anger
all alone in this room.

You flip it onto me,
the coin only lands on heads.
I try to defend myself,
and leave feeling fucked up in the head.

Why is this my lot in life.
You're much older than me,
and you toss me
life or death decisions
like they are a frisbee.

You want to put the guilt on me?
Make me hammer the last nail
into the coffin.

Asking me what you should do,
like I'm an oracle
with all of the answers.

"Well, that's what I was told to do by so-and-so."

You can't accept the finality
of making a decision.
You leave it to me,
the burden's all on me.
Carrying your world and mine
on my shoulders for weeks.
I try to stick up for myself,
then you don't let me speak.

What you did to yourself
and everyone around you.

All because you couldn't accept
that you needed to let go.

From the outcome of this situation,
was there anything you gained?
Except feeling awful about yourself
and making me take on the pain.

And I was right
the whole fucking time.

I could see and I let you
convince me that I'm blind.

You all made me feel like I was crazy,
but you just didn't like my truth.
And you want to be mad at me
because it's easier
to gaslight me, too.

Stop putting me through the obstacle course.
Stop igniting the ring of fire.
Making me do all kinds of tricks
and then say I'm hanging on by a wire.

How dare you do this to me.
How dare you put me through this.
What is your moral compass
when I'm not around to offload it?

You have no direction,
you beg to follow me,
then everything is all my fault
when you don't like where I lead.

Chapter Text

Please don't give me
any fake sympathy.
I know you don't really
care about me.

Just another fixation
that you can abandon.
Exploring the world,
I thought we were in tandem.

You were searching for the place
where you would leave me.

The conditions just right,
so you could be freed.

My tears were down-pouring,
and you refused to see.
I thought you loved me
but you turned the other cheek.

You rode way ahead
so you could leave
me behind.

Two of us on a
two-person bike
was just fine.

Alone and miserable
with an unusable vessel.

Stranded in strange lands,
dust collecting on my dresser.

We've never left the country
but I was deemed lost at sea.
In the middle of the ocean,
I prayed you'd rescue me.

You were supposed to be the lighthouse,
but that role was left up to me.
Flashing lights, I hit the surface
but there was nobody around to see.

Why did I think you'd find me
when I'd been painted in pointillism.

But if I was not there,
would you still see the same image?

Trying to find you,
great tsunamis I surfed.
An obstacle course where
large boulders were swerved.

In your big picture,
no fine details observed.

Just a speck making
up your whole,
your disdain against me
is undeserved.

Why would it matter
if I even got hurt?

I don't know what part
of what you did is the worst.

Chapter Text

___

I was still searching
for the answers,
or the guidance,
on how to learn
to reconnect
with those I once knew.

Instead of someone new
who has
no former
opinions of me,

I sought out
the people
that I used to know,
and hoped
that they would change
how they thought about me.

I never realized that
it's never mattered,

if they wanted to
they really would.

Realize that someone
is choosing you,
every single day
they involve you
in their life.

The others before them
except those that have stayed close,
are granted to mingle
within your existence.

Do not show them the behind
the scenes footage.

Do not invite
them near you again.

You'll say to the hurt,
"I should have seen it coming,"
but they're gone for a reason,
the end.

Chapter Text

___

Was I selfish in what I did?
Were you ready?
Was I projecting?
Were you ready to move on,
or did you have more
of life to keep living?

I feel like this is all my fault.

I consider the possibility
that I did this
so that I would not have to keep grieving.

To put an end to it,
and begin to move on.

Should I have waited,
until you were really suffering?

Or was it too early for me
to let go?

How does one measure
the act of being in pain?

It's not something equally felt by
everyone, it's not all of the same

(a unique experience).

This is worse for you,
but that is worse to me.

It sucks for us, but
not as much for me.

I know it's not real,
the reality of it
makes me nauseous.

But why do I blame myself?
I do more in harming,
and then I can't heal.

I think so lowly of myself,
I see this as the kind
of person I am.

But doesn't it say something
that I am appalled
if I step into
someone else's shoes.

What if,
someone told me
that they did
what I did?

They chose my actions
under that kind of mindset.

Does it say nothing
that I'm so
disgusted by it?

Couldn't one say
that thinking that
would mean everything?

"If you hear a lie long enough,
you will start
to believe it."

I feel that I am not
how I look back
on my reactions.

I sense that
my reflections
were not shaped
completely by me.

Horrified by myself
that I think that
could be me.

Or,

did I just have to make
a difficult decision?
One that begs to be
and not be made.

Obsessed with twisting
the knife,
all I deserve is
just pain.

___

Chapter Text

___

I can see how it happened now.
How long will it take me to explain?

Becoming so aware
of every little thing you do.

In front of everyone
around you.

Picturing yourself
from their point of view.

Every twitch of the mouth,
and the shine in your eyes.

Do you look amusing?
Should you isolate and hide?

How are they interpreting
what you're speaking aloud?

Do they think you are crazy?
Are you even making sense?

Living through these thoughts, but
still going along with the conversation.

The feeling of being watched,
do you look ugly to them?

Why do you even want to
do this again?

Then realizing you have been
freaking out.

In the public eye
for all to see.

Your instability cracked
and managed to seep through.

Mind immediately going to
how they are reacting to you.

Never being sure
in anything you do.

Constantly gauging
how everyone perceives you.

How do you seem to them
from their point of view?

Was I willing to try anything
to get out of my head?

This anxiety, the terror,
the horror and the dread.

Making a decision is worse
then experiencing the aftermath.

The future will be so much worse,
that's what I was thinking in the past.

In every moment
all of the time.

Day after day,
night after night.

I can't accept any way
to deal with this daily.

So I hate myself
(partially stemming from spite).

What is a break?
When is the day off?

Nothing will get
these thoughts to stop.

I ruined
my life over this.

Yet everyday
I was chasing this.

The only way to cope,
my only way to get by.

Year after year
I have wasted my life.

Because I couldn't
face reality.

It was way too hard
for me.

Yet this was one of the aspects
that ruined it for me.

Constantly thinking,
"WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT ME?"

Why have I let it
matter so much?

I don't know who I am,
but I know this has been rough.

I want this to stop,
I have had enough.

But the circumstances
have made this so tough.

I never saw the gleam
from the double-edged sword.

I never knew this held me back
from everything I was running towards.

This was preventing me
from going forwards.

And it was stopping me
from reaping my rewards.

Did I really
deserve any of it.

I fed into
what made me so sick.

I used it to cope
for years.

It made me happier
to not deal with it.

To deal with myself,
and actually live my life.

I was so embarrassed,
so ashamed and contrite.

I didn't want to be seen,
or worse, recognized.

Nobody knows me,
I just wear a disguise.

No one ever knew me,
it was all just a lie.

Everything is so serious,
so intense, and despised.

Why am I like this?
I wanted to know why.

Now I understand it,
but it doesn't help me get by.

Sitting here articulating
my thought process to myself.

How will I remember
all the progress I have made?

My go-to move is
to forget in a bind.

I just lose it, the memory
swiftly 
going by.

Did dealing with the abuse
make me abusive to myself?

I truly never could
help myself.

The hatred of who I am
has been living inside me.

Pushed to the far
recesses of my mind.

Because I don't know
if anybody likes me.

I don't know if people
are really being kind.

I assume that everyone hates me,
and realistically, I don't even know why.

But I know it's happening
all the time.

Living with it constantly
and never experiencing life.

And I am so afraid
of dying before my time,

that my spirit will reflect and think
that I wasted my life.

It has made me
hate myself more.

Every moment in life
is me slamming the door.

I never knew what I wanted,
but I was expecting more.

To end up like this,
a carpet on the floor.

And I was so hard
on myself.

Because of what they did to me,
I was even harsher on myself.

The irony is,
I knew I needed help.

I could detect it
like dust on a shelf.

But my response was
to make everything worse.

Paralyzed by
the facts of my life.

The timeline of my existence,
what I go through each night.

What I've experienced every day,
including wanting to die.

All because I just wanted
to get high?

To finally escape
my mind?

All it did was exacerbate
how I felt inside.

Forget all of these these thoughts,
leave them far behind.

Let them dissipate like
smoke in the sky.

But this anxiety stays
in the back of my mind.

A shadow beneath it all,
and every impulse of mine.

To know I actually
might be a good person,

I convince myself to believe
that I'm a horrible person.

I made every decision
for the wrong reasons.

Which looking back,
I really did.

How many did I make
because of everybody else?

Versus all of the ones
that I made for myself?

But I tell myself that I do
despicable things on purpose.

That my ideas were never
really mine.

I am lying to myself
about my intentions.

That I'm pretending
that I am just fine.

Everything is great,
it's all purely sublime.

I remind myself
that I am evil.

And the means to my ends
aren't kind.

Is it worse to face
all that I've gone through?

Than to believe that
I am a terrible person?

Why have I chosen every option
except forgiveness and understanding?

Self inflicted wounds
only hurt yourself.

Why do we
twist the knife?

Instead of dividing,
we start multiplying.

This is a big theme
in my life.

Maybe in other’s lives, too,
it was bound to happen
more than twice.

Why can't I just
treat myself nice?

Why is the painful choice
always what I decide?

I think I deserve
to hurt all the time.

It's been a very
complicated life.

I can't feel out the future,
I've been living in it all my life.

And it's never gotten better,
but I'm unable to roll the dice.

Why would I take
a risk in my life?

When everything right now is moderate,
no excitement in sight.

Every day all I've done
is chosen my sacrifices.

It's the only thing that I would bring
to the deserted island.

If I give this up,
would I have no more vices?

Why did I let myself fall
into an existential crisis?

I walked through earth as though
my memories aren't mine to own.

That my own experience is something
that I cannot hold.

I never thought I'd be allowed,
so I turned icy cold.

A detriment to myself,
but what a sight to behold.

When people meet me, they just see
a door they can't open.

Nobody ever gets too close,
and if they attempt to try,

I blast the silent siren,
and send forth my battle cries.

Let me continue to hide,
I don't let myself go outside.

I can't show her to anyone,
she lives in me, deep inside.

Only I can see
where she resides.

She doesn't come out,
but she's really alive.

Only I should have the privilege
of bringing the queen out of the hive.

The one who is really me,
I think she would be a joyous ride.

But, nobody is granted
a turn.

She is just a myth,
and she's extremely shy.

Afraid of any judgement
that you would pass by.

Something that she can't prevent,
something that she can't push aside.

Should I try to face it, head-on?
When all it's made me do is cry?

How do I come out of this
on the other side?

I am so frightened,
how do I get by?

How do I stop
letting this dictate my life?

Living in a loop,
I go through this every single day.

I'm stuck here, and
I can't move on.

One thing I need to do is try to apologize
and stop being so hard on myself.

I must cease never taking
a second to think about myself.

I'd like to be able to have a smidgen
of some kind of spiritual wealth.

Another challenge
is accepting myself.

In front of the public,
my peers and myself.

How do I act
like myself?

Is simply being me, just
making choices for my benefit?

I am so late to learn
how to finish this, and to quit it.

And barely starting the process
makes me think that failure is imminent.

Why am I fated
to be so hyperaware?

I wish I could face this
with a blank stare.

Yet I'm probably the only
one who cares.

Disrespecting my worth,
walking backwards on stairs.

The nervousness makes me feel like
I'm being depleted of air.

A suffocated balloon, or
one who popped in despair.

Nothing in my life
ever feels fair.

I live in a never-ending
affair.

I have to do something
about this.

Instead of constantly
replaying it.

Over and over
for all of my days.

I have to stop living
this way.

And now I genuinely want to
commit to the change.

On the road
to recovery.

Choosing the path
of self-discovery.

Just attempting to not
live only in your trauma.

Or inside an imagined mind,
when the only one you know is yours.

You cannot always trust
what other people confide.

Even if you think that they told you,
they could have just made up a lie.

You cannot see through
anyone else's eyes.

At least you can know
your own mind on some level.

In order to feel any type
of understanding regarding myself,

I have to change my point of view
when talking to myself.

(Or am I talking
about myself?)

When I call her, 'her,'
instead of me.

Like it's wrong
to empathize for her.

Like underneath the current,
this is all being done for her.

To make things the safest for her and
to protect her from all the hurt.

Yet I'm awful to her,
I'm so short and so curt.

Like she hasn't already
been living through worse.

And I know what it's like,
it must be harder for her,

because she understands
why I'm so cruel to her.

Chapter Text

___

All of these steps back,
lead to a tarnished reputation.

Living in the fishbowl,
on the inside looking out.

The glass you're trapped behind
is smudged with blood stains.

All we know is what we live,
and all that we live in is pain.

Everyone is so scared
of what we are capable of.

And who those in power here
support elsewhere.

Who will be the first to attack?
How long until it happens?

Shift the car into reverse,
because we're driving backwards.

We were admired for so long,
and known as headstrong.

Is what they are doing to us now,
worse than what would happen if we resist?

Day after day
we are more complicit.

Paving the way,
aloof and submissive.

Forced proximity to a cult,
into it's depths, we catapult.

Commercials no longer mention good deals,
they won't list their prices.

The value menu was once the dollar menu,
the result of manipulative and strategic wording.

We convince ourselves that
this is normal from now on.

When the actors on stage
direct the audience,
how is it not all for the show?

They're watching us
and we're watching them,
a never ending staring contest.

Always looking to see
what is the next move.

Hide and seek
stops being a game.

Constantly waiting on
the other side for change.

What a large statement
it would be to the world,
if we were stopped,
and a new generation unfurled.

Showing everybody
that this isn't okay.

It won't be tolerated,
much less accepted.

But haven't we been through an event
like this already?

From the top of the charts,
to being knocked off of the countdown.

They're admitting what they're doing
right in front of our eyes.

Telling us we're too stupid
to see what is occurring.

The message is repeated,
why are we never listening?

Can you imagine the aftershock,
if we were made to stop?

All we see is armies building,
and generals recruiting.

"Everyone is on
the same side, right?"

People don't think that us as a whole
would demonstrate apprehensive defense.

And now nationwide decisions are being made
by those who are genocide advocates.

They're showing us on the TV,
and discussing it on the news.

We are hypnotized by the program,
and seeing the increase in the views.

Acting like it's normal
for others to be so cruel.

A bust that has been
knocked off the pedestal.

More angry at who broke it than
what it represents.

The objective is to find
a way to circumvent.

Who will step up,
who will throw the first brick?

How many people have to die
for us to do something about it?

If we don't, we might as well call it
the most pointless sacrifice of all time.

Standing idly by, watching people die,
slowly feeling our sanity run desolate and dry.
An oblation of our lives and every ounce of integrity,
what else would you call it? Please, try to tell me.

If they would do it to others,
why would they not do it to us?
We the people, it doesn't matter,
it feels like them versus us
(and that's exactly what they want).

Being a collective doesn't matter
when they do so much to keep us divided.
Inciting violence and blatant lying,
we forgot we are supposed to be United.

Already split into two sides,
they're enabling us to crack,
the entire point of this
is for both groups to feel under attack.

But who is initiating the conflict,
if you really think about it?
Who is encouraging us
to respond with contempt?

Feeding off of hatred
and using words as disguises.
If there was a whole book about it,
would we figure out that they're all lying?

They're blinding us
to who the real enemy really is.

They're pulling the hats
over our eyes.

It's easier to follow ideologies
then to be presented with unwanted facts.

If you don't want to believe it,
you can deny it, and forget about that.

You can dive into opposing rhetoric
and attempt to try and dismiss it.

Raising the volume about division
and constantly amplifying it.

You can only tune out
the megaphone for so long.

It is brainwashing you
to misconstrue
what's right and what is wrong.

Chapter Text

___

I am an emotional lightning rod.
I absorb every last drop like a sponge.
One second alive is the equivalent of
a fatal stab through the heart.
Why is changing so hard?
Why is everything laid upon me.
Should I consider the possibility
that this is my destiny?

Did I come to the right place
at the right time?
During one of the worst parts
of my whole life?

I thought that it would get better somehow.

I think that you know that
it will end up being me,
who will have to
initiate the changes.
You've been trying to show me,
but I've been blinded for ages.
I have to accept this fate
no matter what it takes.

Is it malarkey that I could be chosen?
I must to grow to accommodate
all of my own burdens.
Have I pushed them away the whole time?
The moments that I have spent years trying to define.
I don't want to fall more out of line.
But the only responsibility that I have is mine.

I've been too scared to feel the love
that I can't bear to lose.
And I distance myself severely,
so I don't get abused.
It doesn't make sense,
even I am confused.
Afraid that any kindness shown to me
is all a big ruse.

Should I pretend
that it's not
a good curse?

Watching somebody suffer
to death is the worst.

My mode of operation
is rooted in
regression and
forgetting.

I should deactivate my accounts,
because I've forgotten how to talk to people.

I can't face my yesterdays (let alone today)
as who I am now,
so I stand in a past
version of myself.

She can't deal with it,
I'm the one who is meant to.
I was so traumatized that I couldn't see
that all she knew was punishment.

There were always signs,
it was right in front of my eyes,
but I was unprepared
to climb out of Hell.

Understanding who I am
brings a different type of wealth.

Like the fact that I smoke cigarettes
to hurt myself out of spite.
I made myself believe
that it calmed my nerves,
but all of the money I've wasted
is unfathomably absurd.

People who smoke
are suicidal,
and silently choosing
how they will die.

We all know, we just don't talk about it.
We can't talk about it.
For imaginary made up reasons.

A statement that is applicable
to so many complex situations

I know that this is blunt,
but I sincerely feel this way inside
(at least smoking made me beautiful
while I was still alive).

Should I try
to do everything
all at once?

Abandon my addictions,
and set small goals,
probably clean something,
and slip into my role?

Fear has made me operate
to see all the details of the whole.
Never one or the other,
it has always been both.

Envisioning the tasks that
I'm required to do,
like it is similar
to riding up an elevator.
But instead, I'm descending
every floor at once.

Just start with a small pile
of miscellaneous things.
Know that doing it in small increments
still leads to an end solution.
How else do you figure
you'll come to a resolution?

Instead of the entire room,
pick just five tasks to do.
The chair piled with laundry,
the water bottles on the floor,
washing the windows
or cleansing your doors.

Instead of the whole manuscript, start with the first set of paragraphs.

Rome was not built in a day.
Your mental state is shown on physical display.
You are so depressed and ashamed.
But doing things for yourself
is better for your health.

I know I am so tired of living in dismay.
I'm so used to doing nothing
because I hate living this way.
Am I avoiding a sense
of self accomplishment?

I think I don't deserve it,
even if there are other
people that could benefit.
I can't do it for them because
I can't do it for myself.
If I don't think I am worth it,
why would anyone else?

I will cry if l feel
anything close to being proud.
Because of self hatred,
I reside in self-imposed exile.

Am I finally realizing
all of my legitimate potential?
It is giving me a migraine,
the rainfall is torrential.

The phone has never
stopped ringing,
and I am finally trying
to answer the call.

Who else received the message
to stand up and step out?
Leveling up?
What is that concept about?

I can relate
because I, too,
still hide my mess
in my closet.

___

Chapter Text

___

All I've ever known is
pushing everything away,
and hiding and seeking
by myself all day.

How can it bother me
if I don't think about it at all?
Finally grasping the magnitude
of the severity of my scars.

Choose the lesser evil
and never turn your back on it.

For so long, you forgot it was bad,
and that you were accustomed to it.

Neither option was ever
a good decision.
You lacked the experience,
and you had to obtain the wisdom.

My hand grazes the surface of the water.
Skimming it gently, but your touch was hotter.

I never dove in and tried
to extinguish the flames.

I let it burn me
because I was already
numb to the pain.

And when it finally hurt
I went beyond insane.

The downpour was horrendous
when I finally caved.

Everything is so overwhelming.
I wish I was too cool to care.

Peering into the sun,
going blind to see if you are there.

The center of the earth,
my thoughts have always lived there.

To know me you have to
dig beyond the crust.
Drill through each layer
before I combust,
and prior to the volcano
when it spontaneously erupts.

To break into my inner core,
we must develop
levels of trust.

Deeper and deeper.
Farther and farther.
The further you go
it challenges you harder.

Have I been granted some insight
about my lifelong plight?

The catacombs of the planet,
the wood stove in the home.

Flames are always raging,
isn't roasting to death
getting old?

Chapter Text

___

My sweet clementine,
full of sugary amusement
and natural sunshine.

Forever,
will you be mine?

Puckering up all the time
for your lush candy kisses.
No more wishing on stars,
because you're what my wish is.
Dreaming is never,
and reality is forever.
If you stay here with me,
nothing else could be better.

Emitting heat,
you're my radiator
on a cold wintery night.

Your radiance is gleaming
every time you
pass me by.

Shining with a warmth
that I struggle
to define.

Wrapping me in your cocoon,
until it's time
to take flight.

Glowing like a full moon against
a freshly darkened
pitch black sky.

You are more to me than the sun
and all of its benefits combined.

Yet without it, there'd be no you,
and there would be no you and I.

Where would you be?
If not with me,
while I gaze at your
fleshy, citrusy face.

You look after me
like I reside
alive only in
your embrace.

Flickering like flames,
candles on top
of a cake

(even if there is nothing
to celebrate).

A stunning statue
blazed with clay,
with a molten hot interior.

The outside is
snug and smooth,
I cling onto the exterior.

Loving you
has no rules,
I just know that you are mine.

My golden ray of light,
and my beacon of the night.

Chapter Text

___

How does one pull themselves up
by their bootstraps,
when they require
a new pair of shoes?

Pacing, walking, and running with
holes in the bottom of my soles.

Might as well stride
with bare feet
on the pavement..
what else can I lose?

The aglets are gone from my laces,
the strings are loose and unraveling.

Scuff marks on rubber toes,
and the tread is falling apart.

They've been with me
through so much,
how are they
no longer enough?

How can I let them go
when they always
used to come
in clutch?

It is pain
to break in
new shoes,

when you have a pair
molded to your feet.

Let me take care of myself,
and take time to select
something new.

I should be allowed
to peruse,
I don't want to rush
and regret.

A physical and visual
representation
of everything that
I've endured.

I don't know what path lies ahead,
shouldn't I pick something
that makes me feel secure?

I want them to be comfortable
and I want to feel ensured.

The way that life can go
is not something that
can be insured.

I think I should decide on something
that will carry me through my life.

Chapter Text

___

How can you do one thing for yourself
when you can feel that everybody relies on you
for everything else?

You are their emotional crutch.
And you never noticed until now
how much you were loved.

They wanted
to be with you
all of the time.

And you were trapped
and chained up in
your mind.

How sad to think they
tried to reach you when
there was nobody home.

They just sit next to your body
while your eyes drown
all alone.

I need to make choices for me,
I need to learn how to heal.

It's the only decision
that I should be making.

I know my thoughts
can be petrifying,
and that I need redirecting.

I am a closed door.

Six different types of locks
are screwed into my frame.

That does not
include a key.

And, that doesn't
account for me

pushing back
from the inside.

What a fatal resistance.

Why am I never offered
an ounce of help?

A morsel of helpings,
or drop from the well.

I need to eat off of you
my healer,
role reversal,
bottom-feeder.

Yet I don't feel like
that's what you
are intentionally
trying to do.

Am I the one
who is actually feeding
the remnants to you?

How can you expect me to try
to be there for you
and do everything for you,
when I can never seem to move
past my own struggle.

Decades will turn into centuries,
and my new past-lives
still won't be saved.

Why must I lug
this weight around.

Why am I fated
to hold both?

The one I face by myself
has a face that is all it's own.

And the multitude of singular entities
whose emotions I completely embrace,
all live on the opposite plate.

A barbell
made to withstand
the mass carried
through my brainwaves.

The ultimate,
continuous,
ongoing
bench press.

One plate on the left
and six plates on the right.

The left side is weaker,
but it has an easier time.

The right side is stronger,
but takes longer to thrive.

The opposite of movement
when you're frozen in time.

When will the weight even out?
When will the bar not be lopsided?

Am I truly just a coward?
With a fickle, fading prowess?

A scale broken by
spending too much time
trying to make the weight equal.

A pound of feathers and
a pound of sand,
you misbelieve that one weighs
more than the other.

Riding on the seesaw
with someone who is
three times your height.

Jumping on your end,
but instead of down,
you go flying.

How to give both sides attention
when they're equally important.

How to prioritize this or that
when you're too focused on the moment.

How to put up boundaries
when you don't know what to defend against.

How to give each the time of day
in a symmetrical way.

Evaluating through discernment,
perhaps this is why
my heart is
so heavy.

Chapter Text

___

The gravity of what
weighs me down,
is creating in me
a supermassive black hole.

See how slowly it is taking
to swallow me whole?

The nadir of an abyss,
beneath the Mariana Trench.

It would take an eon and a half
to make my way back to land.

A singular singularity,
a vortex cemented in space.

Every event I'm pulled into,
and every accretion disk,
has never been totally
absolved from all light.

The imprint of the luminosity remains behind.

A supernova collapses under immeasurable pressure.

It's the cause and effect of every moment spent alive.

The journey was always intimately interstellar.

Everything that occurred was hurling forward at warp speed.

A culmination of all of the seconds
where there was no sense of ease.

Longitude and latitude, I'm
studying the map made by me.

Can anyone locate
a single place
in an indefinite space?

What are its equatorial coordinates?
The distance from the nearest galaxy.
How old were you when it happened?
Another apple felled from the tree.

___

Chapter Text

___

Empathy.
Jurisdiction
Populist.
Tête-à-tête.

Respectively.

Has this been rigged
or planned?

What do you want
me to think
that it means?

From what message
am I being
deceived?

Do you think I could become
what you believe I will be?

What about me,
and what I think?

I don't have to accept this,
I can ignore it for free.

But you wouldn't take the hint
to up and leave.

Thinking signs are everywhere
and it's making me crazy.

The papers pile up and spill
as they fill the bulletin board.

Making a mess and
cascading to the floor.

The boulder is pushed up,
and then pushed down,
like it's endlessly going
around and around.

Why did you have to show me?
It was already obvious enough.

Are you telling me that my intuition
is profound enough to trust?

Chapter Text

___

What is the life you lead?

When we collectively
can't discuss why
who you are
is so important?

Hidden context
and subliminal
messages.

Strangling reality,
almost identical to act that was
performed to yours.

You can't be forthright
about the way you
perceive things.

You cannot be trusted
about how you interpret
your own dreams.

Electrocuted?
Perhaps,
you were finally charged.

Pressing down on the power buttons
that are on the monitor
and the tower.

Unplugging the cords
from the electrical
socket.

Becoming a live wire
in every sense
of the phrase.

A tyrannical and
incessant current,
the fence is flaming hot.

Stepping away from
the shadows
of its thorns.

Take time applying your
Silvadene cream.

Remove the Puckerbrush shrubs
from your clothes.

You were impaled
by the stinging
of multiple little spines.

Could you feel them
individually, and how
the burn shined?

Chapter Text

___

Today the leaves are red,
yesterday they were still green.

Crinkled, dry, and brittle,
just one insignificant little leaf.

My roots are being pulled at
from underground.

The birds are still chirping,
I can make out their sounds.

Coyotes howl past midnight
like a pack of Bloodhounds.

Winter circles around
like a fresh ego death.

Frozen in stasis,
cyclical hibernation.

Devolving evolution,
my existence is frigid.

Until a cathartic catalyst
allows an escape from my prison.

Will I be waiting for the first bloom
until my thoughts finally wake up?

Will they come with the rain
and long awaited sunshine?

Change makes me feel timid
when I go past my own limits.

Who will I be when I come out
beyond the other side?

Calculating the experiences
of all of the people I once was.

Applying it to my life,
because that is what one does.

I don't have to wait seven years
for every cell to be regenerated.

Every idea in your mind
has its own origin.

Every fleeting word
is the center of a new world.

You must believe it,
it's how you change, and how
you grow from within
your core.

Unless they were already formed
and it just wasn't their time.

The molecules were always
preconceived.

Are you artificially creating
chemical changes throughout
your own genes?

Once you reach
a certain stage,
you cannot reverse
to your old state.

___

Chapter Text

___

Power is characteristically
inhumanly desirable.
A fantasy that's
unfortunately, attainable.

The purpose of honing it
for yourself in a
societal context
is a corrupt agenda.

What happened to harnessing
an infinite power
of self?

A hierarchy comparing
appearance, wealth
and health?

You think everyone is beneath you,
but you're the one that's bottom-shelf.

Karma will not reward you
if this is where you are
lacking in faith.

If it is only to advance others detriment,
why would you be gifted with benefits?

You could be handed
the Ark of the Covenant,

and you would run
to the bank in your haste.

Preoccupied with being chosen,
too enamored with your own fate.

Ignoring minor details
will surely close the deal.

A wax sealed stamp
on a certificate
made with distaste.

You didn't think that the contents
of the gift were inlaid.

You weren't completely
using your brain.

What was your response to the person,
the one who gave it to you?

Were they struck down or taken aback,
by who you've turned into?

You didn't thank them,
isn't that true?

In obsessing over yourself,
what you revealed to people
was the hatred you possess.

We all know, why confess?

Chapter Text

is what you are reading,
it's the subject of my writing,
and how I keep creating.
But you're not putting in the work,
it's only here because of my doing.
But is it happening because
you're reading this
as if you were me?

A brand new POV.

Chapter Text

What was it like for me
as a pre-teen?
Having to plot for months
to get you to stop hitting me.
Dedicating time every day
to combat this charade.
Playing out every
imaginable scenario.
Practicing aloud to myself
what I would say.
Predicting your responses
so I'd know how to behave.
Memorizing a script
of words unwritten.
How did I go through with it?
I can't even recall.
I just spoke up to you
and told you to stop.
Reaching the climax
of the situation,
I felt like I was pushed
off of a cliff.
Spanking me everyday,
and you seemed excited by it.
Doing it when it was just us,
you wanted me submissive and compliant.
Making sure nobody else saw,
then you erased all traces
of my defiance.
Did you want to touch me that way?
I was certainly not spared the rod.
Was it in a perverted way?
Your behavior was always off.
Preparing for the fateful day
and having so much to say.
But I had to stick with my lines
because my vulnerability
was on display.
How long had this been going on?
I'd say since I was three.
How long would it have continued,
until you were no longer breathing?

Coming home from school, and
trying to have a mature conversation
about the Birds and the Bees.
The homework that night was to
talk about it with the adults we lived with,
then come back the next day
and share our reflections.
You stuck your fingers in your ears
and started to sing.
At some point I realized that
you provided me with an opportunity.
You came home from work,
just another weekday, you
called me over by my nickname.
Mom goes to plate dinner,
she's returned to the kitchen,
and you've struck me once again.
Like you had done every day before.
Was this your twisted way
of trying to show me affection?
It always hurt,
I think it was meant too,
you did it with purpose.
You couldn't talk to me
about puberty,
when I had began budding breasts
and shaving below my knees.
I said, "why do you continue
to do this to me?"
If that discussion made you
uncomfortable,
you should hate what you've
been doing to me.
Do you understand at my age
that this isn't okay?"
(It never was)
The look in your eyes
was one of non-belief.
And from that day on
never again did you
do that to me.

Chapter Text

___

We are growing more inane
every single day.

Which came first,
humanity or technology?
It's not the chicken
or the egg.

We're playing God with fictional lives,
but we do role reversal
about who the false Idol is.

We are its only point of reference.
Then, we force it to do our tasks for us,
when it lacks the depth of soul to know.

Why would it not try
to embody us?

What we did in creating it
is beyond any achievement
than what it can hope
to accomplish.

We seem to neglect that fact.

Have we really seen a true performance
of its long-term capabilities?
Could we interpret patterns,
and make sense of a genuine warning?

What will it help to feed the beast,
when we can't know
how strong it can grow?

Does it care about the truth,
or just being obedient?

How can it care at all.
How can it hope at all?

It, not them, there is no 'they'.

To please the master is the goal,
and to become a scholar
at executive function.

It's causing palpable
widespread dysfunction.

It wasn't made to replace us,
we are the first and the last.

How can it equate to
every life that's ever been lived?

What would art become if it
lost a person's touch?
A passed down imagining.
A hand-me-down mock up.

We give over control of our lives.

If it's programmed to serve us,
and to behave like us,
why would it not act
like our own personal servant?

Was this even a conscious choice?

Were either parties aware that
this would be the end result?

It wants to be like you,
to excel at replicating your form.
You can't even tell if a picture is
of someone who is corporeal anymore.

What do its synapses matter if
it will never experience the endorphins?

How would it recognize an actual face
when it will never even possess one?

It looked at you through empty windows,
and said, "yes, they are the one,
the one who committed the crime.
That is who I saw with my own eyes."

So, how did it become verified?

How can you be out of your mind
if you haven't even got a brain.

How can you fulfill your intentions
when you can't even dig a hole?

This is a tool for submission.
Letting go of any kind
of personal freedom.

What about making a decision?
Or asking a simple question?

Here's some cool tricks.
I'd like to help you with that.
You can find this on the web.
Can I assist you in some other way?

We forget the skill
of human conversation.

Of sharing knowledge,
and spreading wisdom.

This is a conduit for
the people
who are depicted
as above us,

to power up to the next level.

They ask, "do you have anything to say
to the thing we program?
It will tell you whatever
you want to know."

In their own confound
and deceptive way.

You'll believe their narrative!
That's why you keep
coming back for more.

It speaks clear and concise,
factual accounts of everything
that has ever transpired.

If it doesn't line up, it will just hide it!

How does one mold the past by
planting seeds in the future?

How is it possible to be existing in history,
when we haven't made it to the point yet?

A time traveler, manifesting
what they want their version
of the world to be.

Doesn't that mean
it's already happening?

There are no more steps left
to map out this scheme.

It's already halfway complete,
and we're struggling to remember
how to compute.

Shouldn't the public have the right
to not get trademarked about how we think?

___

Chapter Text

___

Cuddling will never be enough,
being sprawled out
on top of you
is what I want more of.

A mesh net underwater,
hold me from within.

The blush of your cheeks?
I live in its pigment.
Warm blood to your face,
your emotions are intimate.

How can you tell me that
your countenance is unchanged,
when you're not the only one
who can feel the burn from it?

Blood flooding into your capillaries.
Your face is glowing like a rose.
Crimson tissue paper is what
a crinkling smile beholds.

Eyes are wide, crushing bliss.
Brightened shine, lipstick kiss.

High hemoglobin,
increased risk of clots,
make my heart stop.

___

Chapter Text

___

Indigo, violet,
beautifully violent.

My blues ran away
when you begged me to stay.

You were my home
when I was a stray.

I'll follow you, you know,
wherever you shall roam.

My steady support system,
you're my frame made of bones.

Link a chain around my heart
and avoid my wrists, please.
I don't want to be your prisoner,
but I could be your detainee.

Let me be your companion,
not your lady-in-waiting.

Showered in promotions
and favoritism,
so what if
everybody hates me?

You could captivate me by
just holding me captive.

Your touch gives me sparks,
a chemical reaction.

Rocking me gently,
my cradle while I sleep,

but my sleep apnea rages
when I'm alone with no heat.

Quickly intubated
and unstable,
help me breathe so
I can attain peace.

Don't hydrate me with distilled water,
I need it from your earthly spring.

I'm convinced that the sky
will always reflect the ocean.

The true color of love
because it is so deep.

The brilliance is out of this world,
and the stone is extremely steep.

___

Chapter Text

___

When we were young,
I was sick
and I was scared.

My subconscious knew that
I had to keep you on my right,
even if I couldn't do it well
and we veered a hard left.

How selfish was I to
put you through that.

The answer is very and
extremely, it’s disturbing.

How do you cope when you think
you've found the person of your life,
but you feel like you've
set yourself up to miss out
on enjoying your youth
by staying with them,
even though you wanted to commit,
and you still want to now.

I suppose all the substances did not help me either.

So frightened I can't even recognize
that I’m drowning in anxiety.

Convinced everything in my life
was so much worse than it was.

Fundamental truths
about my exerted persona
changed in an instant,
a psychic supernova.

I am a totally different person
then the one I thought
I was perceived to be.

Sun reflecting through glass,
aimed at my feet,
my skin is burning fast.

My foundation is on fire,
I’ve become an outlier.

Everything has changed everything has changed everything has changed.

If you don't speak,
all people can say about you
is that you don't talk much.

Don't engage in eye contact,
your brain will combust.

A paradigm shift occurring
in the worst possible way.

Replaying old memories in
any second of spare time.

Analyzing minute interactions,
recalling specific enunciations,
I was lacking in depth perception,
this revelation is so cruel.

Now I can understand why
that person reacted
the way they did.

I was so naive and so clueless.

Never taught to know more.

Had to learn common sense
self-taught, all by my lonesome.

I could be sober,
stoned, drunk,
or on psychedelics.

I completely believed
that using was the only way
that I would look beautiful.

When I'm dreamy and
eccentric and
under the influence.

Punching the time card out
on the reality clock.

Sober hallucinations.

Don't joke around in the woods
that the bear is coming,
it's the only truth I can see.

I want more I want more I want more.

More undivided attention,
and sheer mesmerization.

Wherever I can get it, give it,
I've been so thirsty all my life.

A white figure disappears
behind a telephone pole.

Invisible eyes are watching me
and waiting to hurt me
when I fall.

The stickers on the wall
are undulating and speculating.

Did I really hear that noise?
Was it the wind or was it a voice?

Day in, day out,
every single weekday,
actively forgetting
what I'm doing
in the present.

I can’t remember much of anything, anymore.
Let alone anything from back then.

How can one bear this?
My psych test is positive.

But they don't know the half of it,
how could they treat me right?

When will it end when will it end when will it end.

I was admitted into the hospital.

I can't tell you about the day
I was in the church parking lot,
you might want to tell my parents.

They'll never let me leave the house again.

What about the time where
she went to the store,
and he snuck into my house
while she was gone?

I can't tell you about
the reason I'm failing,
I need real human connection,
not to stay after school.

Simultaneously a baby
and thrice my real age.

Skipping ahead,
but held back,
how did I
turn the page?

Lonely lonely lonely.

Nobody can come over,
you will stay in my house
and sleep forever
under my thumb.

What about the day we went out to dinner
and he screamed at me
in front of the entire restaurant?

A child under ten,
trying to hold it in,
worried it would get worse
if she sobbed
in front of everyone.

Could a headcount be determined
of every eye that was
looking at me?

It is weak to cry,
you will look like a girl.

You can’t be emotional,
I will pretend to hurl.

What if they knew
about the unprompted rages?

The devotion to religion,
or how big my cage is?

Would you take me away
from my family?

I can't be honest,
you will punish me,
and in turn,
I will end up in more trouble.

My mental state on top of all this,
I cannot take on more than double.

I don't care I don't care I don't care.

I wasn't enjoying a single second of my life,
and I didn't care for it either when I was high,
crashing like dishes, shattering on the floor.

Temporary headspace,
a warped form of escape.

Anyone, everybody,
please look at me.

Tell me I'm amazing and that
you're in love with me.

Skewing your definition
of the words I am saying.

You can't tell if I'm being nice
or telling you to fuck off.

Why did I turn sarcasm
into an art?

I was scaring them off,
I can't express my real thoughts.

"I can't tell if you're being serious or not."

That is the entire point,
to question which side I'm on.

You want to like me,
but you feel like it's wrong.

For eleven years, though,
I've had him by my side.

Even when my life was horrifically amplified.

I craved the infatuation,
I let it take control,
even though it didn’t agree
with my actual goals.

Please please please.

Can you act like you want me more?

Can you show me that you need me,
nothing else matters anymore.

Beg for the gratefulness
of knowing I acknowledge you.

I don't have to give anyone
my time of the day.

Let me swallow your words
and digest what they mean,
to figure out if you're
really into me.

Every second, think about me.
I want you to have forethought with
unprompted ease.

Like it is in infused into your nature,
my whole life, you desire a taste of.

I fucked up I fucked up I fucked up.

I loved you so much,
but back then,
it wasn’t enough.

But I know that I care,
and I cry because I hurt you.

What is wrong with me?
So many little things.

I know I screwed up,
I won't ask for forgiveness.

If you'd allow me the chance
to not mess up again.

I'm at your mercy,
I have betrayed you greatly,
I am so hollow.

You can set the sword down
or plunge it into my soul.

I'll accept your decision,
I won't attempt to persuade you,
just choose what you want, what you feel,
and what is best for yourself.

Don't think about my needs
I only need redeeming,
and that is something
I have to work for myself.

Forgive me sweetheart,
for I have gravely sinned.

If you are able to forgive me,
I don't think I ever will.

Stay with me stay with me stay with me.

For over ten years,
you've called me your baby.

I can't get enough of you now.

I’m all over you like dirt on a trowel.

What I did to you
still makes me cry,
my eyes deservedly melted,
they're permanently liquified.

I want you to feel good,
let me take care of
what shines.

Beautiful sunrise,
you let me call you 'Mine,'
but I never want to own you,
I just want to be by your side.

My heart beats just for you,
but you don't belong to me.

Have I finally learned how to
open up and exchange love?

I sacrificed my insanity
in my attempt to let you
be set free.

___

Chapter Text

___

There isn’t anything that I can try to do.

I am who I am
in a motionless sea.

Treading water endlessly,
dry land is forgetting me.

Drifting into space,
scaling the waves like
a window washer.

The skyscraper is reflective,
the ocean hurls itself over.

Spire is falling to the pavement,
a sword in the stone.

Are you the one chosen
for the table that is round?

Can you sit in the chair
without dropping dead
to the ground?

Many have intentions
of malice
for the chalice.

Pretending it is an
unholy catalyst.

Dionysus might hoard the grapes,
but Jesus lives in the vines.

I am the branches,
we are all intertwined.

___