Will you sing me a lullaby?
For I haven’t slept in days
Anything to pass the time
Before I go insane
It’s important to remind yourself
That in the absence of someone else’s presence
You are never to question or demean
The worth of your own existence
I have never believed in the idea of
“falling in love”
Instead, I believe we
“fall into the realization"
That we have been in love
The entire time
She dances under broken skies
Seeking pleasure with the pain
Of holding souls in tainted cries
While they melt into her veins
Her skin dripping with conviction
An infected moral code
Countless sins, on a hopeful whim
To pay a debt that she was owed
Cuts
It wasn’t until I could see the moon rise that I decided to make my way outside to the wooden swing that gently swayed in the wind. After navigating through the dark, I sat down and felt the soft breeze that leaked through the forest behind me gently touch the parts of me that were uncovered. I tried everything I could to organize my thoughts, slow my breathing, and find some sort of peace in the chaos that wrecked my mind. Unfortunately, this type of madness stems from the depths of wounds even I wasn’t aware existed.
With a simple touch
I found myself spinning out of control
Grasping at anything to keep myself steady
And though he knew this all along
He still found himself in a state of confusion
As he watched me inevitably disconnect
From the ground beneath me
Clouded skies turn blue into grey
As promises from you continue to fade
The flowers I grew have wilted away
For a new foundation of all your disdain
Nothing felt better
Than how easy it was
To feel loved by you
Until I learned
It was even easier
For me to feel hated
Into Nothing
I stared into a blank piece of lined paper for possibly an hour, following the margins and tracing the outside edges of the page with my pen. It was unlike me to draw a blank and yet here I was, emptier than I could ever imagine. What could I possibly write? How could I possibly articulate a feeling of nothing.
Impending emotions grow heavy on my chest as mental turns to physical and I am no longer capable of repressing. Not even the sound of my dog’s steady breathing soothes me as I continue to act as though I’m capable of refusing reality. In times like these I would desperately reach out, a phone call away, you’d promise me comfort and soon after I would drift to sleep.
Instead, I find myself in a constant state of self doubt. What was real? What was fake? Who was I to you and who did I become? Never have I ever found myself habitually questioning my own being. Never have I questioned my own words. But I understand now, I understand that sometimes after all is said and done, words turn into nothing.
Reminisce
I pick up my mug with both hands, slowly sipping from the lip and letting the steam gently grace the tip of my nose. Hot tea soothes the back of my throat as I place the mug back down on the nightstand next to me. I can’t seem to remember the last time I was able to sleep soundly without the help of chamomile and melatonin. What a privelage it was to come home from class or work, jump into a cotton abyss and soon after fall victim to my own weariness. Now I’m caught in my monotonous nightly routine: dinner, shower, tea, sleep aid, bed, stare at the ceiling for a couple hours, hopefully get more than 4 hours of sleep.
Come to think of it, before this nightmare of a routine began, what was even crossing my mind during those short moments before sleep? In most cases I’m going to assume it was a controversy between which outfit I was going to wear the next day, or possibly who the next bachelor was on my quest to find love. A common and habitually failing adventure of mine, let me add. Gone are the days of blissful romantics and picking out my outfit the night before, that’s for sure.
What's Mine Is Yours 