Tag Archives: broken.

manic incompetence.

i don’t remember
the last time.
my fresh energy
– pure and uninhibited –
i’ve forgotten what
it feels like.

instead, luke warm
at best
and otherwise
cold, dark and sticky.

my hands never dry
and yet my nail beds
are rough
and crumbling.

i am so tired
yet full of adrenalin
relentless trembling
plagues my knuckles
like an arthritic matriarch.

the mania comes
but in an anxious
and with reactionary
tention.

no patience,
no concentration,
all fear and no memories.

a quivering
ball of pathetic
incompetence.

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[am].

i am alone,
i am apart,
i am numb
and cold
and bored.


reality.

but when
the one you miss
the most,
is the last
person
you should miss
at all;

it is difficult
not to believe,
that every moment
was intentional
deception;
and a humiliating
farce.

the reality is,
they stopped
needing you,
before you stopped
needing them.


armless.

you always
smell
like fresh
laundry.

and now
you follow
me everywhere:
caress me
as i sleep;
cradle me
from the chill.

you still
smell
like fresh
laundry.

only your arms
are out of reach.


matre.

you were more
than i knew.
the hole is deeper
than i expected.
i miss the bubble
i thought we shared.


cremation.

make me smaller
than any particle
of human light.

grind me up
into dirty grits
of cartilage and mucus.

crush me underfoot
with your feather
and sweep away my soul.

pour me through
the metal grate
along with your waste.

smoother me with
layer upon layer
of tight, black nets.

drown me deep
and let the seaweed
poison my lungs.

kill me now.
take my breath quickly
and let me surrender.


2018: 01

the scent of familiarity;
the willpower to remain alone;
watch and learn;
read and weep;
cut and drive;
dig and bleed.

keep going.


clown.

it is the intense loneliness
that follows the act;
no closer to an actress,
to a performer, to a clown;
but an act all the same.

hear me, look at me, love me;
love me the hardest,
love me the longest,
love me the most,
just please don’t leave me.


heat.

back in the hot room,
she remembers:
it’s been 11 years
since he walked out;
10 years
since she ran;
7 years
since he begged her back;
6 years
since she was home again.

back in the hot room,
it all came back:
as the warmth
embraced her body,
so too did the sweet
memories of a love
once unknown
and similarly suffocating.

just like the hot room:
you let it break you,
because you think it’s worth it.


sleepology.

eight hours
of blood
and salt,
pain and
humiliation.

eight hours
searching for
respite and comfort,
love and
approval.

eight hours
of desperation
and terror,
restless drama and
tiresome torture.