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I never cry in the daylightI know what it is to die,curled up on the bed with the sheetsstrewn about, leaking regretinto a pillow casewhile daylight shinesthrough the windowas if everything is ordinary—as if nothing died andthe world is as beautiful andlogical as ever.I know what it is to sitin a lonely roomwith a dim lamp for light,wanting desperately to cry,but only able to sitin silence as the nausea gnawsand the images of toxic cleaner fluidcocktails won’t subsideand cars keep driving byoutside the window,their ghostly headlightsilluminating the darkness—reminders that some peoplestill have a reason. I know what it is for a smileto hurt, for skin to feel coldin the middle of summerand grow colder as everythingbeneath dies a little bit more, and for sunrises to beeaten alive by the wakingof a long-dormant feeling—that you were dead to begin with,and will always be.
WaitingComing home, unaware, with no way of knowing.No way to expect that they're waiting.It was a Wednesday, A warm, sunny WednesdaySo beautiful, so disgusting, So wrong.They're waiting, so unusual, unreal, unexpected,Like statues, expressionless, "Sit down, we have to talk".Oh no, what now? Did I do something wrong?Am I in trouble? I sit there, waitingA bomb exploded! Tearing through me.I didn't want to believe it. I couldn't believe it.They're lying, they have to be lying. But why would they?How could they? I knew it was true but I didn't believe it.Memories flooded my thoughts. My mind a creek, a river, an ocean,Knowing that they're out there, somewhere,They're waiting...
I Fell AsleepI fell asleepIn the arms of the enemy.My worst mistake,As I let his words get to me.I left my lifeIn the hands of a killer.I trusted my bloodTo a man who's a murderer.I closed my eyesAs he lulled me away.I loosened my gripAs he began to sway.I fell asleepIn the arms of the enemy.I lost my life,but I lost my life willingly.
I Don't Love YouI don’t love you.I don’t care about you.I don’t think that you’re beautiful.I don’t envy the hand that you hold.I don’t admire you from afar when you’re not looking.I don’t die inside when you look straight through me.I don’t stay up late at night thinking about you.I don’t touch myself to the thought of you making love to me.I don’t cry myself to sleep knowing that I mean nothing to you.I don’t dream about you when I fall asleep and wish to wake up next to you.I don’t write melodramatic poetry about you.I don’t even tell you the truth.
After InnocenceI do not envy children their innocence.I do not value the pearls of their laughter,or hope for the amnesia of their ignorance.A child can't tell me what comes afterthe landscape of their childhood,and I would not give up going through,for all the unsullied perception of good,the turbulent reality of loving you.
To the one I forget to loveSunshine girl,your feet are itchy for the milesbetween your sighsand hunger scratchesat your throatbut you have a smilethat swallows oceansand your heartopensinto the Marinia Trench.Sunshine girl,this heaviness in youis offset--your spiritis a dandelioncoming home to restsoftly, softly.