Dear Sun

l used to follow your footsteps in the sand,
but they are lost to me in these winds of change.

The city seems colder now,
closed to me in my time of need,
the doors have darkened to my magic,
long nights have set their chill into my bones.

(I carry the knife with me, always.
I carry your heart with me, always).

I search for your light along the horizon,
but I am slave to the moon, her pull
beating me endlessly against the sand.

(The tower breathes in the distance,
pulsates that familiar thumpthump…

my chest is hollow, craving, aching, tugged toward
that unavoidable expectation).

This is no longer an oasis,
the water turned stagnant from lack of sun.
There are no shadows, just infinite rivers of ink.

(I carry the knife with me, always.
I carry your heart with me…)

it is your name etched on the box,
but it is her face I see in my reflection,
her teeth grinning from the corner–

(she can still taste the worlds you left behind;

I can still taste the love I left on your tongue.
I can still feel your soul buried in my spine).

I continue to chase the sun, born back to
the beginning, ceaselessly.

(destiny drags me along the well-worn streets,
blood dripping from my hands, inescapable).

I feel the heat of the sun,
the light breaks the horizon…

I wake.

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stone cold sober

You remain.

I have buried you so far in my darkness,
and prayed for your suffocation.

But still you breathe, still you beat,
A steady rhythm in the back of my mind,
a metronome of mistake tick-tick-ticking.

you remain, you are not remains.
you should be a skeleton, stark white and starved;
shoved to the back of my closet, all bones and death.

But still, you breathe, still you beat,
you are pounding down the doors,
screaming through my hallways.

you remain,

you remind,

you have become the darkness,
creeping in, crawling across my skin, caressing my heart.
You breathe, you burn, you beat (ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum).

you remain.

spinning madly on

-when she looks in the mirror, she doesn’t see a woman anymore, she sees a monster. All brightblueeyes and vicioussmiles. She just stares at her reflection and wishes for the girl from before, all hurricanes and storms, with a quiet violence that kept verging but never crashed. Instead, she sees a shadow, an aftermath, a voracious appetite, a strangling selfishness. She sees something she never knew how to love. She can’t bring herself to break the glass.-

The City Looks Different.

You can map the sprawl
of city life in the twist of
veins beneath my skin,
trace my blood flow like the shifting of the earth.

The rhythm in my chest matches
the beat of your wanderlust; the blaze of
lights and the familiar hum of crowded streets.

The oceans in my eyes are nothing
compared to the constellations
on my lashes, the curve of the
mountains in my smile.

Nature is attached to the very breath from
my lungs, the heady scent of earth and
rain clinging to my fingertips.

I am a crystal clear day.
I am a thunderstorm.

You just press kisses to
my rivers and valleys,
whether violently raging
or eerily calm.

your head rests against the branches
of my heart, your arms entangle in
the roots that span my ribcage.

(I can’t help but wonder:
are you in love with the metropolis
that sings beneath your hand or the girl?)

Synaesthetic//Anesthetic

I was tired of scrambling around to find the good things. I was sick of trying. Tired of lying. Sick of watching the masquerade that played around me. Who was real and who was not? Tick, tock, I was running out of time. Out of energy. Out of will. Out of self.

I was burning to the ground. Falling as the sun crisped my wings. The blood was staining my hands. We all fell down.

I longed for the innocence of a child. The naivety. The imagination that could create worlds without having to sleep. I needed someone to light my candle. Replace the wick. I was going too fast, trapped in a box with no sound.

The ocean was crashing over my head. I was drowning. I couldn’t breathe. The walls were closing in. Wasn’t anyone there? Can anybody here me?

(Is this just another story?)