i wish you were laconic. you aren’t. you just don’t care.
i scream. i scream so loud. i scream so that my ears are ringing and my jaw hurts. i scream so that tears well up in my sad eyes. i scream my life away. for no one to hear a thing.
how tragic it is, that my own brain poisons itself.
if i showed you all my dark, im afraid you’d never be able to see my light again.
today i watched a video from my ring camera of you smashing my potted plants. the ones you gave me.
i think i hate hospitals, and the stinky hand soap, and a nurse’s fake smile, and the overhead lighting, and the quiet doctors, and the cold tile floors, and the cheap tissues, and the bland food, and the way you’ll never be the same.
another valentine’s day without you is another year of melancholy.
you at mine. and if the sun sets for the last time today, i will be happy knowing you are mine.
yesterday i read the notes on a life
that had just barely counted as one lived
the girl was far too tainted to be a wife
but she was a girl with much love to give
she talked like a true contrarian
eternally antithetical girl
then her opinions flew with the herons
to a much kinder and comforting world
with time her smile faded into the gray
and she went aimlessly through the motions
she joined other wretched souls yesterday
her eulogy murmured by the ocean
i suppose she always hung by a thread
i would’ve hung onto each word she said
people tell me i will survive. that i won’t be able to remember this one day. that i will get over it. and maybe i will. but i will not forget. my blood, and my bones, and my cells, and my sprint won’t let me. they will never let me recover from you.