DISASTROUS HURRICANE,
she breathes in the mist
and tries not to,
swallow her tongue.
SITTING BY THE WALL,
she thinks it's all good now,
counting the cracks in the
cheap tiles
and wondering how long it would take for them to completely break
like her current
state of mind.
but yet,
bad chases her down the blue tinted hallways of her mind
and no matter
how hard she tries to
stuff her body into
individual cells,
her attempts are quite a storm.
HUGGING HER BRAIN,
she sits and adores the
lovely walls that hang in her mind
like a dusty picture frame.
she's the lonely pictures she leaves on nightstands of
happy girls and their commercial white teeth.
and she thinks that their superficial smiles look
nice, but,
she hates that she will never have the same.
EASING THE PAIN,
her mind is a patchwork of bandages and
lilac colored bruises;
darling, does it hurt?
HER FLOWERS ARE DEAD,
a mess.
someone forgot to
drain the old water now
and they wither like
old girls and boys
losing the glitter caught up in their
stars.
a mess.
someone forgot to
pluck away the sorrow
and she's a plague;
all the people say,
"stay away from her."
BUT IT'S ALL FINE NOW,
lately, she spends a perfect half of her time
kneeling by the bathroom sink,
so that she can turn up the lies
and not have to
clean up the mess.
she feels a black hole in her chest
and when she presses her finger
she feels it bleeding
but it has bled so many times before
that it doesn't hurt, now.
lately, she finds her late night thoughts
drowning her like
the bottles she drained before the
doctor said to stop, stop, stop.
and she's
trying to move,
but she's obsessed with the obvious.
she washes her mistakes out in the bathroom sink
everyday,
when she pours plastic bottles of water
down her eyelids,
when she brushes her teeth and spits out
the blood she forgot to wash away
months ago.
and when mistakes skid down the drain,
she thinks that no one
seems to notice.
·
August 1st, 2016
