Nicotine*

Your mother told me
I'd miss you this year -
I already knew.
I wish I could tell her
everytime I've had to
shove a blade of tears
down my throat so
no one would have to
watch my eyes bleed it.

The problem is, I
miss you quite easily,
I still need to build up
my resistance, but even then,
I would not be able to
ignore your absence
the same way you cannot ignore
a gap in between your front teeth.

I will have tearful nights
because my lips will ache for yours,
and my limbs will feel too isolated.
I will have days where I
will be in shades of black
like a funeral,
but that will be how I'll know
that I'm fully alive,
because I'll miss you so.

So I won't be able to ignore
your absence,
but maybe I'll put it to the side
until all the upcoming times
we'll see each other again,
and then I will let it all
take over me
and give into you, sweet nicotine.

Acetone

The places where you
lit fires just for me
begin to dismantle themselves
as soon as your absence is felt;
Your hands were the stitches
that held them together.

Vulnerability inevitable,
yet somehow it feels
safe with you,
close enough to fire,
close enough to be highly
flammable when
exposed to air (love),
close enough to reveal
parts of me I'd always conceal.

This love is
violent and gentle,
somedays, an arrow to my heart,
others, unbearable to pull apart
and I guess though
that's what love means;
taking the euphoria with
the smoke,
staying through merciless
days of bloodshed,
just to keep a throbbing beat alive
and kicking to the gut,
adding salt to a bleeding cut;
I could bleed myself dry for you.

I don’t want to be a slave for love.

I don’t want to remember someone whenever I go to a place, or see a thing or smell something familiar.

I don’t want to feel something whenever I hear a familiar song.

I don’t want to cry over some memories I had with someone just because I know that it’ll never happen again.

I don’t want to miss anyone anymore.

I don’t want to fight for anyone. I don’t want to live for anyone. I don’t want to spend my whole life believing that love will make me happy and I don’t want to spend my whole life trying to get the love I think I deserve.

I don’t want to feel something so unbearable that I’d do anything to follow it, like when I miss your skin against my skin as we cuddle every night while watching our favorite movie and it’s driving me mad because all I feel is this coldness around me and I need to breathe in your scent again but I can’t do anything except to let the tears fall on my cheeks while staring at the sheets of my bed where we once had our best moments together.

I don’t want to be tied down by love anymore. I don’t want to be attached and dependent. I don’t want to be weak like this anymore.

I don’t want to feel or even do these things anymore. For once, I want to be free. I want to be free from the hurt that love caused me. Free from the chain of thorns that love had wrapped around me.

Love, you, see, is cruel. It will ****** you at first, will make you see beautiful things. It will give you hope that maybe, just maybe, you’ll finally be happy. It will make you feel the warm that you have missed after years of living coldly and alone. It will make you curious, it will make you wonder ‘what if’. It will make you feel beautiful things. It will lure you to invite it in you and then, it will make you its slave once you let it.

It will eat you from the inside. It will control you. It will pain you. You can’t do anything but to follow it. It will only make you suffer. Do what it wants or you’ll feel unbearable things to the point where you want to rip your heart out just to make it stop…but you can’t. So you’ll just lie down on the cold tiles of your bathroom floor, hugging yourself while water spills from the faucet and tears streams down from your eyes, and you, internally screaming while love breaks your heart into pieces.

It will make you vulnerable. It will make you live in danger and with constant fear on your mind. It will only cause you nothing but chaos that will leave a hole on your chest that you won’t know how to fill once it’s done driving you mad.

Then, it will leave you destroyed.
And you won’t be the same anymore.

congratulations,
you are unloved;
undissolved in a world you
watch through glass.

and once again,
you are nine; in the bathroom,
on that floor, as
the blue tiled walls reflect,
and replay
over and over and
over,

and
you wish that
you never truly woke up, from
the strange mix of dream
and reality you
succumbed to long ago,

like a princess, at
rest;
wrapped in thorns

maybe
you'd never have had to pack
that sleepover bag every time
he made you cry,
.
leak

even as the tv still played
cartoons, snot still
ran, and you still
bled (and left).

I am falling for your lips and they don't know me yet
You layed me down at the sinking edge of receeding night
Sweat washed off the forehead of memory dame
Of reversions divisions revisions of appaling tales
Going under dunes, falling in spin of burning times
Revert on her knees bleed at your glorious feet
In the gaze in the haze of inconsistencies you retreat
Tied in holy suffering of sacred pain my existence crucified
Holding king death in embrace of countless lifetimes
Lingering darkness breathed shadows that flashes on

this magic spell you cast
is making me see rainbows when i cry
and roses blooming when i bleed

-fir.m