Blue

 I'm mad

Because I felt nothing for so long,

and I'd never felt anything so strong

Everything is blue,

and everything I gave I gave to you.

Everything is gray,

even now, I clutch at every day.

My heart is closed for reparations,

And I know I need to take time and piece it back up,

but I want to be rid of all these pitiful ruminations.

I want to feel!

I want to feel the gleam in my eyes when I look into another's.

I want to feel the comfort in my heart when I'm held in their arms.

But you never played with my hair,

You never whispered in my ear.

And they will,

whoever it is, I'll feel.

Everything in blue.

The ocean reflected in my eyes,

You will never get to see.

And everything in their hands,

My hair, my heart, my dreams,

My tears.

You can keep the grey.

Keep your smoke, your screams, vomit, the years.

I don't need any of it and I never did,

You never owned any piece of me.

No piece of me is gray.

It's all in my hands now,

and everything is blue.

Rager Rabbit

I am angry.

I am angry at you.

I’ve gone through feeling sad and guilty,

And missing you and being afraid that I’ll never find someone like you.

And hating you,

And being terrified of ever having you again in my life because I feel like you’ll drag me down.

Like you being anywhere near me is going to pull me in your spiral, 

down, down, down.

I’m teetering on the edge of my own ledge,

There’s a hole in the ground and it leads somewhere I don’t want even want to look.

And I’m holding on, I’m too proud to fall back in there,

I’m too proud to ever want you, too. 

I chose myself and I will choose myself, forever.

I feel hurt and angry and used.

I’m the neck and you’re the noose.

You wanted me to be whatever you had in your mind,

And I wanted to be what you wanted, what you could be proud of. 

I tried to be something that you could show off. 

Within the bounds of myself, to become acceptable to your peers. 

To your stuck up, cold hands, and to the friends that leave you in tears.

And that is a fault of mine. I was spineless, I knew not my face.

That was my fault and my mistake. And I recognize it and accept it.

I learned to look into myself only after I'd cut the chain and closed the door.

But I’m apologizing to myself.

Because I fucking hate you. I don’t. 

But it feels nice to pretend I do. 

Kiss Kill

You only want to kiss me when you’re wasted

You’re only touchy when we’re in front of your friends

The only time you want to hold me is when I don’t want to

Yet still I put myself into your hands

You’re nothing but a scratch on my shin

Yet the cut grows inwards and makes my body shake inside my skin

You only want to kiss me when you’re wasted

You’ll wake up tomorrow and puke as if you regret it

Every time I stay over you wake up feeling sick

I keep wondering why you’re asking me to stay

You only want me because you’re lonely

You want me like a leash held on your hand

If you ask I’ll stay up to run my hands through your hair

Even if my arms get sore and I don’t want to be awake

You’re nothing but the cut on my lip

It’s so tiny but you know it stings like a bitch

I wonder why I’m staying up ’til morning

You tell me “If you want to, go to sleep”

But when I get off the couch and leave you lying

You look at me like I’m the wolf and you’re the sheep

I hate the way you called me darling

As if you really cared for me and loved me too

No, I’m not saying you were lying,

I’m just saying your heart left mine black and blue.

Sunset Angelica

 Angelica,

blooming in the twilight.

The one who left my neck a pleasant purple,

my thighs littered with bruising bites.

Angelica,

shining gold under the sunlight.

Her voice left my wounds appeased and supple,

her music healing my sunrise.

Braiding hair upon a tower, runs her hands along my spine.

Her touch sings praises. Like a flower, I shall bloom under her hands.

Angelica, you are magnificent, please be aware of the fact.

The songs we sang upon cold stairwells were a kindness to my heart.

Keep Your Shoes On

 I hope someday

You grow yourself a better man.

Your voice hit me harder than hands ever can.

You'll never feel

how the earth under bare feet, is kind.

An open voice on a rolling hill, nowhere I step is out of line.

Carry your bones,

I'll cary mine. They're inside

my body, light. Keep your wings, they cannot swim with the tide.

Angels in the ocean,

are as meant to be as you and I,

You know I loved you, but you'd never swim with pride.

Keep your shoes on,

gardener. Your anemones and mine

are different. Hillside flowers won't bloom in the sand.

I don't need to grow

a garden beneath the sea. I take it

as it comes, as it sways beneath the waves and eats away at the rocks.

Yes my heart is full

of your memory and our sobbing. Yet

it's my space to mourn, I'll let the waves call loud, to wash away the dread.

The sealight sings me a lullaby, my spirit clinging to her tune.

Her voice speaks love, and her touch is mild.

I've been sleeping in her arms ever since I was a child.

Keep your bare feet covered, gardener.

 I will stroll away in mine.

Hollow Bones

 I went through all our pictures,

after two months where the glimpse of your face was traumatic.

They went by so fast,

the felt hundred years I scrolled through in two minutes, dramatic.

If you ask me "do you love me?",

my answer is a clear "I don't know". 

Not because I am cruel,

but because I'm so used to throwing my feelings away,

I don't know what they're supposed to mean or why it hurts,

if they linger will I find out? But it stings.

A hundred years of you,

in less than three months. In your house. 

In this small room where the outside world doesn't exist,

A hundred years of tears.

In all my memory only you

have made my head spin like that. Not even the moon,

for who I stayed awake until sunrise, just to talk.

If I see your face

and hear your voice, hold your hand,

Will you take my heart,

or will it set me free. I can only imagine, lest I see.

You're not Apollo and you're not Selene,

you're an angel, and I'm the one with hollow bones.

I can't dare to call you my angel anymore.

But that name is only for you.

You're an angel,

and I'm the one with hollow bones.

Anemone

 I don't know

If I want to keep you in my heart for you

or for myself

I don't know

Wether it's better for us to disappear

and move on to different lives

I don't know

How will I feel when I see 

your face again?

Do you want

what's best for me? Or will you use me 

to heal yourself instead

Do I miss

the touch of your heart and you voice,

or the vague memory of it?

Should I speak,

or wait for you to reply to my silence?

I meant it.

I won't grow your anemones.

I've enough of your screams in my lungs.

And there's limited space between my bones.

You're no longer the one I'm dancing with, in my mind.