I wore daggers on my knuckles and hate in my hair, and my heart was dark and full of venom and teeth that gnashed on rage. But you, the walker in my dreams the burning bush in my heart, you told me once that my heart was golden and my soul could shine brighter than … Continue reading To My Best Friend, On The Day of Her Death
Category: Abuse
The Hard Part of the Night
You left me to hold the hard parts of our life and the night, and I still try to mute the sound of my own heart breaking, but it breaks again and again, over and over until the shards of it climb from my chest and pull my lungs from my throat, my lungs that … Continue reading The Hard Part of the Night
I Developed A Taste For It
I would have loved nothing more than to leave you gracefully, but those matches I had hidden in my back pocket were yearning to be struck as I had been stricken with guilt and buried underneath your lies somewhere in the bottom of your soul, next to the misfortune you carried and scrawled into the … Continue reading I Developed A Taste For It
Game Night
Lines cut, lines crossed highs hit, friends lost Move left, slither right hands up, blindside Is it all just a game played in good jest, or does luck play a hand in sinking the rest? Is it all just a game determined by fate, or will you be the one left to sit in checkmate? … Continue reading Game Night
Robbing Air
I don’t want to live this life anymore, but you are pinks and deep hues, the tangerine clouds behind sunsets that giggle and puff themselves into the shape of my mother, when she slouched proudly against the cupboards that robbed my air. You are the pink of her that opened the doors on their mothers … Continue reading Robbing Air
Under Your Bed
I have loved as I have never been loved, and in loving as I have never been, I have held the hands of gods and laid weeping before the closed fists of disappointment dripping with my own blood and barely skimming forgiveness. Perhaps it will come to me, this love, a love, beneath your bed, … Continue reading Under Your Bed
I Told Him No
He told me how brave I was, writing my story into a sea of stigma, how my words, my voice, would break waves and save souls, a lighthouse for the mentally ill, the distraught, the unloved. I told him no. He told me how beautiful I was, smiling sadly with eyes like burnt moons hiding … Continue reading I Told Him No
