i long for your
hands upon my skin
i want to know what
it is like to be touched
by art

the world crashes
at my feet every night
and begs me to
pick it back up

these hands are
not strong enough
to hold it together
but i'm trying

what do i need
to do to show them
i'm not afraid? i asked

the moon / bite back
she said, you're a shy
one but you are not
when your claws come out

sometimes, i thought about sealing a deal with the devil. writing my name in blood with a razor blade instead of a fountain pen, so he could sell my soul to see how much it was worth.

i’m happy i didn’t.

when it rains
i can feel my childhood
dripping on my honeylike skin
how my grandfather would
sit outside in his favorite
white chair, looking
at the clouds bloom into
the color gray, soft lighting
strikes every few seconds
to make the sky come alive
and then rain fell down instantly
washing the earth clean
how silly i was to be
afraid of nature, 21 years later
i found a new love for stormy days
heavy rainfall and the cold wind
brushing against me
sitting on my balcony
watching the rain dance in the air
in my favorite white chair

ink is a way for me to bleed instead of carving a blade into my skin, but i itch for that adrenaline racing through my hands. shaking from the cold touch from a sharp tip, pushing and pressing. cutting for seconds, but the seconds turns into minutes. these thoughts haunts my every day attempt to feel calm and sane, still my addition will remain. i am so proud of myself that i haven’t cut my arms since… whenever that day was. i do not contain a memory of it. i’ll admit to myself, i do miss looking down and seeing lines all over me, i miss the view so much that i fell in love with it. i thought i was a form of art, i could be displayed in a gallery. today, the urge crawled out of my throat but i managed to swallow it back down into the pit of my stomach. i know i’m okay. i know i’m better. i know i’m growing. it’s okay to crack open once in awhile to find light again, and it will fill me to the bone. i’m right where i belong and here’s next to my lover. every day is a new day. i wish you were here, i’d hug you and tell you that i’m doing much better.

and i will shove
divinity so far down
your throat

you'll choke on royalty
it will taste like holy wings
but you too weak

to swallow a crown
like mine
you couldn't handle

being a god

i knew a girl once
a lost girl who was afraid to be brave
she thought strength was her enemy
because all she knew was weakness

she felt that it could protect her
she could not protect herself
and she did not know how
but how could she

if people crushed her heart
over and over again
as if someone smashed her
soul into pieces

and gave it to the devil to taste
she made the feeling of sadness
look like a brand new home
vacant walls and glass windows

but tears covered the floors
she would often cry storms
she couldn't find any shelter
so she drowned herself instead

she wanted to disappear so badly
that she'd cut her pretty skin
open to bleed like a felt tip pen
it was the only was she could feel something

sometimes i forget what it was like to be her
but i know one thing for certainty
that i will not meet her again
i was her before