Fear of being left alone

For the convenience of oneself having dried up,

Growing with worry for others,

So you forget me-

I'm not sure why I'm surprised

Going back in my memories,

You've always been the same

Save yourself, save yourself, save yourself

Blood is only blood,

no matter the family tree in our veins,

you're only human

You're not the only one

The hat has always threatened

The apron always cowards,

Even as I bury myself in the arms that smell of homemade meals,

you'd throw me away for a chance.

I know it's not anyone's fault,

A mother only has concern for the child most in need

And my love has always been the most convenient of your three birds

So easy to trick to buying your ticket out-

We fall in the same lines of abuse by the hat

Yet the very same hat you fear, you'd leave me with alone

I guess with so many threats of abandonment by the hat,

I always thought the hat would leave first

Not the apron

I know I can make it out alone

I've got the means to do so...

It hurts, it hurts it hurts nonetheless

My heart shatters and won't stop breaking

Won't stop shuddering

I'm not sure it's even my heart that's tearing

It feels deeper, deeper than my soul or fabric of being-

The pain won't stop

It never has

I shouldn't have ever pretended we were okay

We never were

All I learned was abandonment

I don't want to be the same as the hat or the apron

Yet, the depression, the anger, the heartbreak begs I run-

I wish I could tear out this feeling of loneliness

To rip out every emotion

To be empty of thought or reason

Save myself, save myself, save myself...

Yet, like a dog I show loyalty

Even when my owners don't mirror that same loyalty or respect

It feels like I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop

Waiting for the inevitable

Of living and dying alone-

I hate that I love you more than I love myself...

Breathing in the Earth,

The musk, the depth, the decay the life slowly passing away after a rain,

Feeling every cold little droplet,

Trickling down the sewers and drains,

Somewhere in the middle,

Of all this rhythm,

There's a pitter-patter of tears,

Of mirrors shattering,

A reflection searching,

For something, for anything,

A recognition of an identity lost,

The fall was long,

Dreadful, abysmal,

A dastardly attempt to save oneself,

From expectation, from responsibility,

From obedience...

Yet, it was harsh,

Until each feather was stripped away,

And whatever brilliance was burned,

To be further bared than the day of birth,

Vulnerable, visible, exposed,

And each nail clipped and fang dulled,

Til the only question left is:

"What's left?"

Each rib pried from bones,

See that heart, red, beating, bloodied,

It's still there, still struggling,

Yes, the surface of "who" is unclear,

Yet, under the answer is there, hidden under the layers of trauma and disappointment,

Screaming to be known

I want to make a party, design it like a birthday

Have a big ol' banner with bolded words "You Did It!"

A cake with elegant red caligraphy screaming "Congratulations"

I want to see my parents walk in as they take in the crime scene

For their eyes to widen and smiles to smear across their faces

For a twinkle to awaken in their eyes

I want them to feel happy, like they've accomplished something

Like they deserved this, that they were the best father and the best mother

Like they were the best husband and the best wife

Like they were the best couple of human beings to exist

I want to pry my mouth open and sing along to a birthday tune

"Congratulations! You did it! You really did it!"

They'll nod along, confused

Not knowing why this is happening, but that it is

They'll smile for me, real wide as I change the lyrics

"You really fucking did it! You really killed her!"

Just to see that smile and light in their eyes die

"Congratulations! You killed her in every way but physical!"

I'll keep on grinning, showing off my pearly teeth as I keep on singing

"Yes, you really did! She's fucking dead"

There will be a beautiful silence that I've been longing to hear for these 23 years

Then, like when I'm angry, spiteful

Like all the rage, sorrow, and misery that's acculmulated and rotted my soul

That grin will fall off the face of the earth

I'll tell them what I've been dying to let them know

"I'm so fucking tired, I don't even want to be alive right now"

Maybe, they'll fucking hear it this time

"Why?" It's a simple question. A loaded bullet, still, he doesn't retract the question. He sits patiently, coffee cup and notepad prepared on the table between us.

The words force their way out between my dry lips, "A hero knows their allies and foes, but a villain doesn't have that luxury. Any mistakes are costly, and every one holds a blade." My crimson eyes pierce his brown ones. "Villain. Hero. Those roles are for the bold and the disobedient." I scoff, "As if one would willingly choose to suffer. A villain wouldn't choose to be a villain."

My eyes soften while remembering her gorgeous halo, "Just as the hero wouldn't want to die despite risking her life..."

My nails claw into the table and my voice dips, "Anyone would change when society and God forsake you...I fell so they could make her rise. My mOnStRoSiTy, my MaLiCe is that result."

"Hello?" My voice echoes into the vast darkness of the realms of my mind and soul.

. . .

. . .

. . .

She was already gone.

Living in a bubble of isolation

Even when the people that matter the most

Are right next to you

Like, everytime I breathe

There's something missing in the air

My lungs collapse

Harder still to expand

Until I'm a stuttering mess

Every conversation stops making sense

I try to reach out

It's not enough

The warmth of a hug doesn't last forever

I wake in the night with a chill that reaches my bones

In the morning, I try my best to smile

While in reality,

All I want to do is hold on

Imprison their hand in mine

Never let go

It's not a reality

Sooner or later,

They have to let go

Sooner or later,

I have to let go

Life moves on no matter the consequences,

Or the situations that lead to this

I find myself alone again

Surrounded by the voices of friends,

Of family

That linger outside the bubble I'm trapped in

That is reality

The distance,

Although close,

Has never been further

Created by my lonesome self,

Or God,

I wouldn't be sure

I'm lonely when I'm not alone

Living life in third person

When all I want to be is "in person"

My love feels boundless,

Yet, burrowed deep within me

I can't help dissociating

Maybe, I'm overwhelmed by the world

Maybe, I just can't take this

So I keep the world at a distance,

Despite wanting to drown in it,

Despite wanting to spend every day breathing life in

I'm envious, I'm jealous

Of all the people who seem able to wake up early morning

Just to smile at the sun,

To touch every leaf on every flower that catches their attention

To be able to hug someone, and the warmth lingers

Stays, fills their hearts with love

To fall asleep, dream in colors of joy

Instead of nightmares

Jealous of those knowing tomorrow a heart will beat with yours

I want the company my soul needs,

Instead, I'm afraid

If I ever meet someone who can love me,

I might devour them in my craving to escape my loneliness

It is Valentine's Day,

a day of love.

Yet,

all I feel is pain.

A child would be grateful, full of love, respect a parent,

who has done all they can,

but my father is not that.

He says he doesn't demand those things,

but he does.

Reminds me everytime we fight,

I should give him those things,

but I can't.

I can't respect an abuser.

I still remember,

four years old I saw the bruises on my mother's skin,

who would then sit in front of the t.v in la-la land.

The physical and mental abuse nearly broke her,

left my siblings and I in neglect for a time.

Yes,

my father has given me a roof over my head,

food on the table.

Says he works hours and hours a day,

for us, only us.

I know he doesn't.

It's money he craves.

He took his rage from the job back home.

He couldn't accomodate for a child with ADHD,

used every excuse to hit me for every involuntary movement.

He always asks me why I'm not the sweet child I used to be...

well, she's dead now.

Screamed in my face saying why all my siblings and I ended up the same,

ungrateful slobs and parasites.

Well, I am a scientist irl,

there is three of us, and if you put us as an example of an experiment,

the results say it all.

Three times and the same result is no coincidence,

but a narcissist will never say it's their fault.

Hopelessness. Denial. Self-loathing. Sunken under the deep blue sea into the layers of the abyss, where devils drag me down to the depths under mud and sand and a forever darkness. That crushes my reason for living and devours my breath from my lips. Feverish blue filled to the top with uncertainty and empty of emotion as I tip, tip, tip over the edge into scarcity. I am begging to be full once more of everything I have spilled out, but find I am out of kilter. Unable to straighten from the gravity of the situation.

Thousands upon thousands of words in half dozen thousands of languages,

used to describe the phrase "I want to die" in assembles of metaphors, idioms, and similes.

Depression isolates disfigure until the pieces that make up ourselves no longer fit right.

Further gone down the rabbit hole,

like "I don't want to be born anymore."

I rape my mind with intoxication

A wandering, stuttering drunk

Trapped with a sober mind

A body heavy and lagging

Fingertips numbing

Circulation slowing

Until what’s left is double vision

Pins and needles

A screaming mind toward a future self

Drunk to Ms. Sober

“Why’d you let us get this loose?”

Where even typing this poem is a struggle

Where my mind still speaks in poem

But my fingers are missing letters

Yet this sober mind can backspace and autocorrect helps with the rest

All I can be thankful is that this drunkenness can’t hold a knife like sober does

That lingering stage of suicide and crying though the night

Interrupted by alcohol

Suicide left behind and a life saved

Only if alcohol poisoning doesn’t decide that’s the way to go

Although tomorrow would just be a rinse and repeat

Either suicide or vice

The agenda is a type of numbness

Don’t give a shit what happens tomorrow type

All I know is by late night

There will be an increase

Masturbation and pleasure

Cuts and tears and death

Or vices like strong liquors and smoke

All I need is one eye close to pretend I’m sober when I’m not

Just like it’s easy to pretend I’m healthy and sane when I’m not

Like how I could still walk along Coney island step by step

One foot in front of the other

Despite my vision telling me that it’s the perfect time to fall onto the train tracks

I’m still trying to find an easy death that intoxication is helping to find