Monthly Archives: June 2015

don’t ask me to survive.

you made the decision
over and over
to hurt me
and leave me.
it looked so easy.
but i would forgive you.

i fear i’ll never
find a way to trust you;
just forget the pain
you knowingly caused.
made worse by all the kindness,
all the love, sweetness and connection.
my two conflicting realities,
i am not sure i could escape.

but i am the fool:
i know you’ll never love me
like you’ll always love her.
i know protecting her
will always be your priority.

i cannot always be
the one who loves more.
gives more,
secretly needs more.
haven’t i given you
enough already?

i don’t know how
you’ll ever convince me.
my internal ash
is too thick and too old.
i can’t accept anything
as any more
than a well intentioned lie.

it isn’t all your fault.
but you can’t fix it
and i can’t forget.
i won’t fall out of love with you,
but i can no longer show you
open, trusting love.
you were my final chance
— and it is broken.

i can’t survive for you.



i have a headache
and i want to kill it.
my eyes are dying
won’t you just kill it.
it won’t stop.
you cant kill it.
please take it.
i beg you to take it.
i can’t kill it.
i cant stop.
i can’t ask.
i broke it all.


i can embrace
this pain
even though
it leaves me shivering and weak.

not like the harsh,
dark knife
searing through my body
drilling through bone and sinew.

if you know the hurt
originates from self,
it is less
and more easily controlled.

it is a relief
to substitute the horror
with a slow burning.
my body aching for the end.


i don’t understand what
they do all day?
i don’t understand what
they think i do?
are they oblivious
to the vacancy?
or simply choosing
an option less confronting?
do they see the death
in my eyes?
i am grateful
for the ignorance.
i do not yearn
for acknowledgement.
but i don’t understand what
they think i do?
is it painful to watch?
or simple to walk past
a blank, black space;
like a vacuum?
best to avoid
the black hole,
for fear of being sucked in.
i am grateful
for the ignorance.
when we are all waiting,
yearning for her departure

too long. too little. too late.

every breath is like a blunt knife
slicing through my rib cage
fillets for lungs
there is no blood
but dry clumps of ash
and deep crimson iron.

an unexpected car horn,
sudden opening of an office door,
pearls of shrill laughter:
are like hidden landmines
erupting in my chest
only, the decimated heart fails to stutter.

grey matter autopilot
stolen words and energy
enough only to keep my lids from
allowing my departure.
permanence of fog; at least the day is grey.
but my cold feet keep me painfully awake.