I'm bound by thin shackles, thick ones too,
My mind is held hostage and how I try to escape,
My body may move, yet the Chains of History keep me bottled, I can't forget the ghosts of my past; the traps I so blindly walked into,
How they love to linger,
As a painful reminder of my regrets and remorse,
They speak to me, like every rose to its thorn,
They bind tighter,
I smile.
For with them,
I am Complete.

I. YOU CAN FEEL IT IN THE ATMOSPHERE, TEARS OF MY PSYCHE FOR YOUR SOL

II. HANDS RISE AS IF IN WORSHIP, LA LUNE SLIDES ON MY TONGUE & DOWN MY THROAT LIKE A TROPICAL JUICE

III. YOU EMBRACE THE STARS, I EMBRACE THE CLOUDS

IV. WE SING AN OFF-KEY MELODY FOR THE MORNING THAT RISES

V. WE SING AN OFF-KEY MELODY FOR THE MORNING THAT WILL NEVER COME

you don’t know me anymore
and truthfully you never really did.

you knew the parts i painted with my wrists but never the ones i created with my wretched heart that you repeatedly squeezed too tight and had me clean up the mess.

and if i’m being honest, i never really knew you either.

we both had a fantasized version of each other and what we desired each other to be, only to have reality sink in years later.

i was always five steps ahead while you were taking the fast lane to get further, never fully meeting our destination and mark.

the last time we talked, you apologized for the way you were and that you’ve changed

but if i learned anything from you,
it’s to never trust a wolf with no teeth

because they never know when to stop.

my hands clung to any happiness i could achieve so when you came in swinging, i felt the rush of adrenaline in each and every part of my watery veins—they pumped with yearning and that’s all you ever made of me. a ghost wailing for its own vessel but to only be left hollow in a grave throughout the afterlife brim.

i always screamed too loud at night and i know you learned that you’re the reason why i can’t sleep on my left side for too long. but if it makes one of us feel any better, i cannot drink my coffee with four sugars without remembering how you always did things the same amount of times. never more, never less.

and if it helps you sleep better at night, just know, that i can’t.

my insomnia has been coughing up blood more and more as the days go by. the bedroom gets more suffocating and the comforters have gotten more tight. your name is still the same on my phone but you told me to lose that ages ago. (news flash, wide eyed watercolors never looked good on me.)

we both know the truth of what happened that night but you cannot risk your reputation to save my life.

because after all, only one of us have a soul
and everyone knows it isn’t you.

it was june or july or august
everything i could never say carved itself my esophagus, the words that would never escape – you made sure of that. one hand wound around my throat and the other cradling her blushing cheeks.

she slips away but your grip only tightens.
fingers scraping – my flesh beneath your nails as i learn a new kind of silence. just a little longer, i’m almost gone. trapped like a bug encased in amber but when those wilted wildflower eyes meet mine, you know i’ll always forgive you.

my lips flicker like a flame as i wonder if i’ll slip away too.
of course not & you like that. push on the middle of my windpipe, crack it like a glowstick and watch my lucid acid purge from my throat in neon technicolor – you do it in a way where i’m both alive but running through the afterlife in white gowns & red stained feet

you recite those wendigo apologies while they look in your wildflower eyes, you purge those auto repeat explanations and how it will never happen again – but we both know it will. your testaments are all folklore, but i always keep reading it.

you lick the blood filled sorrows into my skin and i forgive you.
and i always will because daddy always showed that when a man loves a woman, he hits her.

I'm a "vlogger" poet,
or a poet who "vlogs"
through words.
Filling your Home pages
with my own latest news,
brand new discoveries:
I'm an alcoholic
and probably bipolar too.

I don't want to feel better.
If I could feel better then life would be beautiful.
But I don't deserve beauty,
Or love,
Or glory.
I lost the love of my father,
Watching it crumble away into nothingness,
And pleading "please don't go."

I'd give anything to miss you one last time.
If I could miss you then existing would be painless.
But I deserve pain,
And hate,
And suffering.
I lost the love of my mother,
Watching it melt between my frail fingers,
And screaming "please don't leave."

I don't want to feel better.
If I could feel better then life would have no meaning.
I don't deserve meaning,
Or words,
Or tears.
I lost the love of myself,
Watching it shatter into a million pieces,
And whispering "please, just go."