I don’t owe you my silence
so you’re welcome for that.
When you breathe fresh air, you’re welcome.
When you go to work, you’re welcome.
When you make love to your wife, you’re welcome.
I gave you this world. Don’t forget that I can take it away.
You assume that they will think of you
Remember all of your best attributes,
wish you were here.
Sometimes that’s true.
Sometimes it’s not.
Sometimes I want to bring you back to life
just to tell you how angry I am.
To tell you I love you
and that he deserved better.
“Don’t worry. We’re not fucking right now.”
You said it as if I couldn’t feel you thrusting.
“It’s ok, I’m almost done,” you whispered.
Continue reading Burning
I wonder if you sleep well.
Do your eyes pop open in a panic,
“What have I done?”
“What did I become?”
Do you think about me
the way I think of you?
In the night, chest heaving.
Heart-wrenching, soul bleeding
I know you don’t feel my fear
but you should.
Photo: Photo by Drew Graham on Unsplash
When I say it was a long time ago,
I mean that my nightmares are less frequent.
When I say that I’m over it,
I mean I think about it often.
I mean that I don’t function
without reminders of you.
Day to day
you are in my blood.
Surging through me
unseen, but felt.
Coursing through veins
I often dreamt of slashing.
I don’t want you here,
yet here you are.
Just like you said.
Photo Credit: Photo by Stefano Pollio on Unsplash
Like a carver whittling away wood,
like a butcher slicing carcass,
like a razor piercing skin.
A needle etching into blood,
a knife engraving letters into a tree,
a dog tearing through bone.
Like a mosquito making meal of me.
You are always here, gnawing.
A piece from my book:)
The day sneaks up behind me
Telling me my time has come
Time to leave behind all that I’ve worked for
Knocking on every door
Begging for a chance at life Continue reading Don’t Forget Me
Don’t look at me any differently.
Don’t cock your head to the side
with a half smile full of pity.
Don’t tell me you’re so sorry.
I wouldn’t change this for the world.
turned me into iron. I fought tooth and nail to stand here.
I bled for this to be over
and now it’s over.
Art Credit: Nour
I’d appreciate you more if you were dead.
Your sinewy arms and wavy hair.
Maybe they would come to me in dreams
instead of nightmares.
Maybe I would wake up smiling.
Is there retribution for a lost soul?
The pulsing of the veins,
The pumping of the adrenaline,
The staggering of breaths,
What’s it to feel alive again?
Continue reading Lost Sands