hold on to me
because
i don't know if i am real
hold me
tight

make me feel
like i am
a living
breathing creature

cling on to me
hurt me
give me reasons to
believe
that i am real

i am on the edge of
consciousness
hold me
kiss me
love me
show me that
i'm no ghost

i am soul
prove me that
i have a body
that i am real
that i am not a delusion
designed to make me
suffer

and tell me that
if I hold on to you
and if i press myself
against you
you will be real
too

staring at the blank page
words whirling
words spinning
words crashing
words like a hurricane
in my head
              
i am crying
i am laughing
i am smiling
i am sad
upset
broken
i am feeling

I'm a writer

thoughts tumbling
thoughts pouring
thoughts thoughts thoughts
thousands of them
pressuring me
crashing my bones
thoughts inside my head

staring at the keyboard
words pouring
but fingers not typing
a blizzard of words
and thoughts
and ideas in my mind

but the page empty
like the canvas of a
dead painter
like a corpse
in a grave
empty
with thoughts and dreams and words
stillborn

lost and broken
how do i go on
how do i write
when my mind is a mess
and the pages are blank
like my shattered heart

my blood is ink
still in my veins

and my soul
is the ghost of words
unwritten
and thoughts
unspoken

i'm  a bird
wingless
I'm a bird
in a cage

my imagination
in chains
stumbling
and crawling

where is
the hand
i need
where is
the one to
help me
get on my feet

caffeine pumping
through my blood
its effect
forcing words out
they're drowning
and trying to clutch              
at straws

and i struggle
to stay awake
at three a.m.
my eyelids heavy
with despair
with dying inspiration
with tiredness

with characters
born and murdered
at the tips of my
fingers                        
and my sleepy breath      
and drowned yawns
and muffled curses  
and dried tears upon my cheeks

i need to
fill the page
with ink
and heart
and tears
and smiles
and laughter
and kisses
and fingers tangled
and bodies cuddled
and sunlit faces
and love
and broken
souls
broken hearts      
i need to
fill the blank page
with life
and death
and me

i am
fragile

i am
vulnerable

i am
glass

be gentle
i break
so easily

just a touch
and i might

fall apart
turn into dust

why don't you
listen to me?

be gentle
i might crash

no.
don't .
be gentle

you don't
listen.


with your
roughness,
you broke me

i told you
to be
gentle

and you
mistook me
for a toy

i am bleeding
in your hands

i am
shattered glass

i'd like
to see you
try
to pick up
the pieces

clean up
the mess

put me back
together

please?

I'd never tell you
that
I love the way you
hold me
(but I do).

I'd never tell you
that
your lips are imprinted
on mine.
(but they are).

I'd never tell you
that
when we lie in my bed
cuddled up
and the lazy sun rays caress
us
I try to match my
breathing with yours
(but I do).

I'd never tell you
that
I simply love
the way you absentmindedly
caress my arm
or leg
or shoulder
(but I do).

I'd never tell you
that
I love feeling
you heartbeat
because it's beautiful
to me
(but I do).

I'd never tell you
that
I sometimes wake up
at three in the morning
and need you
(but I do).

All I tell you
is
my messed up thoughts
and how broken I am
(and that you fixed me).

I'd never tell you
that
I love you
(but I do).