I painted my face today and did not seek your validation I did not think of your words telling me that I look better without it I did not argue back saying I wore it because I liked it We did not end the fight with me wiping my art off my skin I wish it was because you finally learned to accept my fondness of the result Rather than the reality that you are no longer here.
It's incomplete and distanced Like losing an old friend Fondness and nostalgia burrowing in this empty space you've given me Dissociation always takes hold here The world a still life painting I'm not very fond of I'd rather go back to your texts Prolonging the words Putting off that dreaded end Until we meet again
I constantly feel like I'm balanced on my toes, edge of the chair, a noose around my neck just waiting to catch me and fulfill its purpose and you threaten to remove it.
I breathe in the calamity the scent of chaos overwhelming my senses and I sit in this musk this odor of turmoil this crawling feeling that comes tandem with disarray my mind is never calm in this moment I find myself agitated eager to move to a motionless mindset where everything makes sense and nothing is clouded in a fog of uncertainty but here I sit paralyzed physically by a mental block in time it will pass in time it will pass
And eventually your name will stop tasting like poison and your picture will no longer stab like a knife I will be able to face you without slowly dying Finally able to continue on with my life
And if you notice my poetry has been scarce lately I will point out the lack of wine on my counters and tell you my muse only comes when I'm drunk but I stopped drinking to appease you