Tag Archives: broken.

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.

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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.


cup.

another one
for the cup:
cup of sugar,
cup of tea,
cup of soup.

another one
for the cup:
cup of dust,
cup of glass,
cup of blades.

another one
for the cup:
cup of blood,
cup of salt,
cup of hair.

another one
for the cup:
cup of nails,
cup of grass,
cup of pain.


downgrade.

like a couple who grows old,
the children leave home,
and the family dwelling
is too big, too unweldy
to maintain.
nostalgia and grief:
downgrade.

like the unwilling assessment
of credit risk and consumer confidence.
black marks and a world renowned
rating scale.
disappointment and reluctance:
downgrade.

like two lovers.
entrenched in expectations
that became too big; unweldy.
a growing risk profile.
nostalgia.
disappointment.
reluctance.
grief.

downgrade.


stride.

eat my
hand;
draw breath
and see
the raw mist.

call the
question
unearthed
and captured
in real time.

my brain
permanently
intoxicated,
high anxiety
and the dull grey.

watch her walk
see the stride,
a purpose
unknown
but free.

loose flesh
and fish oil
stains;
waiting in
silent terror.

longing sobs;
inevitable loss.
leave quietly
or rather,
don’t let me fall.


safe.

now i understand
why my wrists
have been aching –
it’s where you
held me
while i struggled.
as you spat
at me,
and i begged you
to go.
as you raged
at my riddled body,
and i begged you
to go.

i know
it’s always my fault;
i know
there’s no point arguing.
i am reduced
to the pathetic doll
once again.
another christmas
and another year
pretending.

i thought
you knew.
and i thought
i could be loved
by you.
turns out,
it’s all
just the same.
but now i understand
why my wrists
have been aching.

you might
as well
compare notes.


lately.

it’s just that
lately when you’re
around me,
you’re either
overwhelmingly tired
or bored;
completely restless
or just snoring.

even when you’re here
your heart is somewhere
else.
your eyes are trance-like
and addicted to the robot
inside the screen.

somehow, while i
practice patience,
the inevitable
is all my faults
laid out;
there’s something wrong with me,
there’s everything wrong with me,
obviously.

you don’t need
to say it;
please save me
from the lies.
just leave quietly
and don’t look me in the eye.


heart.

​i’m doing
it all wrong
again.
every moment
is a chance
for betrayal.
every moment
is a chance
to lose.

in my mind
it is not
a chance:
it is certain.
he will leave,
and you
will fall,
every knife pointed
at my own bloody heart. 


luxury.

some days
it would be
a luxury,
to stop time;
halt the moments;
and find
a sort of respite;
a pause,
in the spinning
globe.

this place
is done.
the wars
won’t end.
and the hatred
only grows.
the people
can not be trusted.
and the animals
have fled.


limbo.

it’s cold today,
but the birds
sailed by.

my backbone chilled
and my eye sockets
are weakened.

his lips felt wanting;
her lips were small
and bruised.

the wind mocks me
and again i am
a soulless ghost.

but if merely a ghost,
why do i feel
so cold?

let me go numb,
until this passes
and something else remains.