It was Never about You //

3 of 3: Poems From the First Evening I've Spent Alone in Over a Month

there is a hole in my dreams with edges that follow your edges. i didn't even know you were missing until you filled in the space between river and bank, ocean and sand, gin and glass. now that you're gone all i can see is that same space. i have built myself a casket most comfortable indeed and the emptiness from lack of you is just the same as all the other emptinesses, really. my head is a desert, and my voice is too hoarse from lack of use to even cry out anymore. i am a single pixel on an unimaginably big screen and i don't even know if i like it that way or not

حماية: concerning protection

When you tell me you love me, do you mean like you loved her? Should that question even be past tense, or future? That’s the thing about someone’s first love, it’s the baseline, the mark after which every love comes.

tellherium 

my angel numbers have moved from 111 to 222 and I am doing my best to think more than ever

You preface all your questions with disclaimers // exit plans

There isn't always a limit

(July 2022 bc asynchronous posting disallows people who know me from actually knowing where I'm at)

you are not safe for me (I came out unscathed) // july 2022

I swear to tell the truth, just not the whole truth // june 2022 ish

grip, bite // like a noose, like an animal

It hurt like a wildfire // I thought I knew how this was going to end

my mother tells me she is proud of me

Epitaph of a Wooden Spoon // in which time is both a woman and a desert and nothing can every truly disappear

(i love it when poems burst out of me)

befores and afters // of course you didn't know who lilith is

you wanted me to want you and i do // say heisenberg

I didn't deserve it. I know that now. I knew it then. I guess it's partly my fault, too. Neither of us treated me like someone we loved.

villain origin story // I didn't do anything wrong, but I didn't do anything right either. Those aren't the same thing, and if anyone loves exploiting a nuance its this one.

1 of 3 Poems From the First Evening I've Spent Alone in Over a Month