i felt it
right up in my feet
from the floor above
when you
slammed that door

i felt it
rattle my ribs and
shake my bones and
rattle me
to the core

i felt it
in my chest when
you said you were leaving
and i think
i got internal bleeding

i felt it
who am i talking about?
i felt it
what am i talking about?
i felt it
who are you?

i felt it
when i lost any
sense of who you
are and
what you mean
to me

i felt it
when you ruined us
and i felt it when
you touched
my soul
just to rip it apart

just this
this is all i need
just this

orchestral symphony
my quiet solitude
cup of coffee

just this
none of that
just this

i don't
need you or
anyone else

just this
this is all i need
​​​​​​​just this

these ribs creak
like old stairs,
wooden floorboards splintered;
tread carefully
so no one knows
you're there

the ladder of my ribs
has been climbed
one too many times,
I only wish
they were as
sturdy as metal

careful, now, darling
you're pushing too hard.
a collapse could
be fatal
and I've got
too much pain
in my heart
to bleed out into the world.

there's cracks
in the concrete
and they look like
the x-ray
I had when
I was thirteen. I think
this pavement took more pressure

than my ribs
ever did.
hush, now, I know
you're scared.
so am I.
tread carefully, don't
push too hard
and maybe
you'll slip between the cracks

without causing
further damage.
I'll carve a space
for you
between my lungs;
I'll tuck you inside
and you can
call me home.

please
don't shatter
the slats.
this room looks
better in the dark
where shadows
can hide the scars.
blanket this
vulnerability, dear.
I'm not ready to
fall apart
again,

what you see:
me, quiet and deadly still in a way that
i never am
staring into empty space or
at a blank wall. maybe i'm
counting cracks or cataloging creases.
you see me zone out—
such an airhead, that George is
i wonder what he's imagining

what i see:
ivory skin and hair as orange as
sunset, and she is as beautiful...
on the outside;
but on the inside, she is a
black hole.
she ****** me in
and i thought she was the light
at the end of the tunnel.
i must have been a traveller
stranded and thirsty in the desert
crawling towards mirages.
now i am helpless.

i am watching her line her legs with ink
as she tells me to make sure that she
doesn't line her legs
with blood.
meanwhile, i scratch deep
at an itch that isn't there
and call it catharsis.
i am seeing white tiles and
a translucent shower curtain and
a sink and soaps and everything is
normal—except the girl
sitting in a bathtub
naked without water
and bare skin has never made me feel more
ill.

what you hear:
ambient sounds.
my breathing, perhaps.

what i hear:
she hums like a Disney villain
brewing potions
and calling it tea. she looks
like a princess
but her words are witch's curses
and i'm hexed
under her spell,
hanging by a thread
to every word she's ever said
and somehow not noticing
the noose she looped around my neck.
darling, choke me
'til I can only breathe as well as your drowning lungs
as you gasp into your oxygen mask

what you see:
i'm having a panic attack.

what you hear:
i'm hyperventilating.

the opal that embraces
my finger is coupled
by the delicate softness
of your lilac skin
and as i press into you
and pick your silky brain
i manage to uncover more
about myself—
how is it that you
connect my insecurities
and create constellations
out of them
displaying maps across
a milky twilight

hands as big as my face
and a scream that was
louder than my cries

daddy's got a bottle of red,
it's okay
he just enjoys the finer things in life

daddy i don't know your new girlfriend
please hold my hand
daddy please

daddy, i think i like your girlfriend
more than i like you
she cleaned me up when i was sick

you yelled at me for
getting ***** on the carpet;
but i'm certain red stains are harder to clean

i wonder if i was good at cross country,
if i got so fast
because of the way my tiny legs carried me up the stairs

away from you
that afternoon with a magazine cutout in your bag
number to a *** line

never dialled, you said, not mine, you said
daddy please don't chase me,
i just did what your girlfriend said

my step-brother taught me to box today
i punched the bag really hard.
punching you in the stomach felt better.

you're passed out on the sofa and
i can't wake you up.
your girlfriend sends you to bed and

we stay up.
there's horror movies on the TV;
she's asleep with the controls and

i can't get away
from the blood on the screen
and the little robot boy's tears as the cars crash into him.

i saw women's *******
in bed with Dracula.
i saw you perving

on the lesbians in the flats,
and then i fidgeted anxiously
when you told me you'd bury me under the slabs

if i turned out gay.
i didn't know what that meant back then but
father, i'm so gay now

you bruised my shoulders when i disowned you.
said "goodbye" with enough volume
it sounded more like a "*******"

you didn't care.
did you ever care?
i used to try and curl up to your side

i stopped doing that after a while.
i was young but i was smart,
knew to walk away when you got that slur on your lips

i was young but i was smart:
you don't take your eyes
off a predator

i was young but i was smart,
handled the ***** you gave to me and
crushed that cat's skull

and had nightmares about it
for weeks and weeks;
but i had to put it out of its misery

daddy, why do you hate cats?
daddy, please don't shoot it
DADDY, NO!

daddy, i can't breathe
stop smoking around me please.
mummy doesn't like the smell of it on my clothes.

stop smoking crack with the neighbours,
your girlfriend's talking **** about you
with his wife

pocket money doesn't replace affection
i'm talking **** about you
with your girlfriend.

i found out that you never treated my siblings
the way you treated me.
what the **** is so wrong with me?

twelve years old, finally in high school
mum said i can stop seeing you
dad, i don't wanna see you anymore

twice a year, always in December
just those two visits gave me enough things to remember
why i stopped the weekend trips

your money doesn't cure my ptsd
nor does it stop the nightmares.
i took it anyway

call it compensation.
measly amount as it was.
i'll never see you again now i'm eighteen

but trust me when i say
i'd rather be broke
than have broken spirits and broken bones