the dressing room mirror is scratched
but i still see
i still color
i am blue between the seams
these cut off my circulation
they are sizes too small for an ocean like me
they are tempting
my body and i mourn for one another
my body and i mourn like storms
mother to my flesh
i am a failed mother
my body is too young
for the things i’ve seen
is out of form
we are oceans fighting oceans
spilling into one another
my body and i love like
we are waves
we are breaking
and moving          stones

She is lonely
but she wants to be alone
She is trapped in a room
with the door unlocked

She doesn’t remember
but her dreams don’t let her forget
She wants to wake up
even if she can still see the stars

She wants to be the best
but she feels like she is the worst
she works hard
even though she cannot move

It's perfect

He threw compliments at you
until they stung.

He kissed you
until there were violet bruises
blooming across your arms.

The fingers he traced
up and down your back
turned into thorns.

His words morphed into
bombs.

It's perfect.
Until it's not.

Swinging from this place, I never thought I'd leave
I craved the welcome comfort, that sense of purpose
There was no end in sight, who else did you have?
But one day, I saw you look at me. With no need.
You had no want, for me to keep you warm
With all my patches and holes, I couldn't help anyone
But I didn't see that. How could I?
So now I hang here, silent
And no one needs me now
A codependant coat

And with out question,
My heart of glass in my palms,
I dropped it and watched it shatter,
So I could hold your beer.

The savior
The perfect partner
The dominant
The free spirit
The fiancé
The parental substitute
The anarchist
The sweetheart
The nice guy
All of these aspects of myself
Yet none of them are fully me
These are the roles I've fallen into
In order to match my various partners
And though all of these may be
Different components of me
None of them feels quite whole
I do not feel whole

All of these personalities
Exist on a spectrum of time and space
None interacting with any others
Each signifies a distinct point in life
Each has its own home
It's own experiences
Attitudes and viewpoints
Behaviors and habits

Yet what do I do when
Two of my contextualized selves
Decide to overlap?
When my ex who knew the fiancé
Moves back to town where I live
As does my person
Who's heard stories of the others
But who only knows the nice guy

How do I begin to heal when
I do not understand what is real
And what existed solely for others?
How do I continue to grow
When the fiancé is fighting restraints
And the nice guy is exhausted
The sweetheart does not exist
And the anarchist screams for revolution?

They seem to be fighting each other
Just to have a chance to breathe
A chance to take the wheel
A chance to control "me"
Yet who even am I?
Are all of these selves fabricated
Or are they hyperbolized aspects of me
Connectable like puzzle pieces
Into one beautiful picture?

The problem is
The picture I see is not beautiful
I'm trying to be nice to myself
But all I see and feel is darkness
I am an abomination
An evil person who cannot be trusted
A dark soul inhabiting an empty body
A person who is not a person
A human with a lack of self
It's almost like I'm not even alive
But even death would be a relief
So I can finally end the confusion
And stop hurting people along the way