a construct.
must, by definition, be constructed.
a construct.
hangs over my head, encircles my room.
a construct.
i don’t remember creating?
a construct.
if not me then who?
the construct.
scares me, what does it want?
the construct.
doesn’t trust me, my self belief gone.
the construct.
in my house, my room, my mirror.
the construct.
through my eyes, gazes on.
my construct.
i think it has me no...
i count,
1, 2, 3, 4, 5
5 what?
bodies?
deaths?
𝘙𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘵
5, 4, 3, 2, 1
no. that felt wrong,
again.
again,
5 numbers, 5 words,
5 images flash before my eyes,
5 deaths, 5 bodies,
blood, so
much blood
my hands,
blood
blood,
on my hands, in my heart,
inside and
out,
blood.
i hold the knife, i want to save them, i want to save them and i cant, i
count,
5, 5, 5,
it feels ...
there’s something so comforting about feeling your own bones,
will we be together in death?
as we were never in life?
as they return your rose-adorned corpse to the earth,
will my skeletal fingers, extend towards yours?
when they speak of your life,
will they speak of mine?
speak of how i loved you? or of how i let you down?
the roses may grow, may spread, may carve out a path between our beds...
no longer able to fight, my eyelids came together with a thud. the very essense of sleep coursed through my veins as i felt my soul drifting through my chest. afraid to succumb to the darkness surrounding me, i released a final, shaking breath to counter the dull, jarring ache of my knees crashing to the floor. i knelt before the darkness not of my own accord, but in a final, desperate plea not to...
can you lose what you’ve never had?
i sit and watch, stare,
she braids her hair,
nimble fingers twist and turn,
and i wonder;
can you lose what you’ve never had?
can you lose what you’ve never had?
i stand and stare, gaze,
freshly painted nails graze,
wondering fingers scratch and skim,
and i wonder;
can you lose what you’ve never had?
can you lose what you’ve never had?
i lie and gaze, cry,
the...
she sees me,
i know she does,
the watchful eyes,
the “are you ok?”,
“are you sure?”
and it hurts,
almost like she cares,
it hurts,
when i almost believe her,
“you can talk to me”
can i?
no.
if i talked she would know,
beyond all reasonable doubt,
pain communicated through excuses and foreign tongues,
if i talked,
she could prove it was real,
i don’t want it to be.
does she care?
why?
“are you ...
can you love a flower but despise the way it blooms?
hate it’s gentle nectar and despise it’s pinkish hue?
can you love a flower, yet wish that it were dead?
well i suppose not gone so much but maybe something else?
could you love a flower, though it is plain to see,
you detest every single leaf and petal more than equally?
could you love a flower? if really in the end,
you despised so much of it ...
Darkness. That’s all I heard when I woke. No, not heard, saw, darkness is something you see, or rather, something you can’t. Can’t? Or just won’t? Maybe this is all in my head, I just need to go back to sleep, or wake up I suppose.
I cold shiver runs down my spine, and just for a second I feel a little less alone in this darkened room. It’s… comforting, I think? Not that I would know what comfort...
You’re back,
back to play,
back to fool,
back to lie,
back to poison,
was it not enough?
the games, the lies, the hurt,
you turned them all against me,
and now you’re back for more,
what did i ever do,
but try to love you,
loyalty spat from your mouth,
like lava from a volcano,
honesty left you,
like smoke in a cage,
shed your skin,
of kindness and love,
to reveal brittle bones,
cradling spite ...
she bashed her head,
i bashed my knee,
are you ok?
they don’t see me,
“she hit her head”,
“she has it worse”,
but i dragged her from the water first,
i gave her love,
when you weren’t there,
now i’m the one,
whose standing there,
ice cold water,
flows over my skin,
as i drag her up,
the cold setting in,
i hold her tightly,
i keep her warm,
my body failing,
skin scratched by thorns,
i did all ...