She apologizes
To strangers
When they were in the wrong

She apologizes
For little things in which,
Apologies don't belong

She apologizes
For everything
Assuming she is flawed

I'm just sorry
She can't see past her self-loathing facade

At night; love loses the fight.
The night cannot protect you from the truth.
There never seems to be an end to the tears.
Or the sheer terror pinning me to my mattress.
My body recognises I am exposed to venom.
It’s innocent efforts make me cry.
It forces me into sickness, my body the only one to look out for me
Protecting me, spilling anything foreign from my body
That could make me feel such unbearable discomfort.
I am terrified that I can’t see you.
There could be blades or tyres or water
And I can’t see it. And I can’t save you.
I want so badly to save you,
But your tone is accustory, your voice unfamiliar
And I don’t know how to pull a stranger from the ledge
Without it seeming like sabotage.
On cold asphalt at 2am I sob
And when someone comes to complete their charity case
I am shocked by my shaking words.
“He is the only one that loves me.
I cannot lose the only person who has ever loved me.”
But am I delusional to see reciprocation?
Because while I gasp at the slightest scrape
And scream at every one of his blows
He can only remind my breathless lungs
Of their selfishness.
I am in agonising pain every second that you are hurting.
And yes my lungs are selfish when they breathe, whispering;
“I wish someone loved me that much.”

I am my Storm.
I am my Sun.

I know that face,
I’m quite sure I do

It looks nearly like
one I daily reflect
upon as I brush
teeth and hair and foster
good proper hygiene
linked to my well being
I sip serial from a bowl
put on shoes whose sole
purpose is to cup feet
walking to complete
different destinations
under the same stars

I know that smile
gone from my life for a great while

It has been called treasure
which many try to bring out
a smile borne on shoulders
similar muscled boulders
yet its teeth stand taller
making me feel smaller
like I have been told to be
I do not see him suffer like me
he has a good job, loving wife
free from all my strife
a vision of what could be
possibly what should be me

I know that face,
I’m quite sure I do
but all the rest
belongs to you
~
NM
08/24/18

That pain you feel?
Those nails digging into your skin?
That blade you feel?
It’s for you.
It’s to teach you that it’s your fault.
You should know better
You should care less
And you are stupid for not learning by now.

Mud brown eyes and bent nose
***** skin and straggly hair.
Calls unanswered
Ignored and unwanted.
2D, flat, plain and uninteresting.
Nothing to contribute
A collection of roles, services rendered
And monotony personified.
Empty, devoid and boring.

she had nothing here, in this house.

Not a shelve, not a chair, not a window.... Not a care.

She could hear air going into her lungs and then leaving...

She scratched at the floor hopelessly.

The sound brought a moment of relief.

She scratched again & again & again!

Her body burned all over.

The tips of her finger nails were coated in her own blood.

Suddenly she was on her feet punching the drywall....but the wall didn't seem to end.

There was infinite amount of wall to punch.

More blood flowed freely from The Empty House

she collapsed hitting the floor with a thud

The Empty House's walls seemed to beat like a sore head

steadily, She Screamed

And then breathed

Fast, Slow & then Nothing....