“Speak.”


I wrote until letters became sounds, crumbling beneath the feet and buried in the ground, desired by the likes of me, I never found. I spoke, I wrote, I write, I tried desperately to fight, the agonizing urge to bury everything I thought I earned in silence. I tried, I tried, at least that’s what I tell myself. Knowing I split the foundations of my own accord, fit pieces not meant for me in places I still hid, knowing, I always knew, I’d bring the whole thing down and start again, again, like I always did.

Going, keep going, I kept telling me, myself, and only I had the desire to be, more than I was showing myself, more than I deserved, or so I thought. I cried, while I tried, believing those tears as proof of my conviction, as if the suffering justified the ends, as if the faults caused by myself were mine to mend, and still I tried.

Afraid to sit alone beside myself and I, placed weights atop myself, and away I threw the notion of apologies, because why, why should I deserve to breathe, live, and move, atop a grave I built for myself, so that I can writhe and stay, sustained, kept alive by those that pity me, more than I love the one I call my own.

They are only mine, the parts that I despised, the parts I held high, a prize, the parts that were only mine in name, but never in creation. Amidst the tower of false beliefs I held together with words of my own volition, somewhere beneath the crumbled remains of what I tried to keep together, are still the pieces of me. Blurred now, are the remains of others that tried, but I cursed myself with the haunting intentions of the parts that created my own demise.

One by one, and piece by piece while mine tower crumbles, I collect the parts of me, I cherished and I once admonished, but now I’ve come to find are all the parts that I believed to be lost. One by one, and day by day I put myself together, jagged edges prove painful, but only because I broke and broke without repair, I preached but practiced nothing, content with tragedy, as I replaced progress. One by one. Piece by piece. I’ll try again. Until I remember all of me.

“I Can’t Let Go Again.”

Intertwined with mine, the scent of you lingers on my skin. Yours or mine, I care not, intoxicated on our sins. Again, again, entranced, we danced to the music of our glass parade. A blurry recollection of our moonlit night, a soft infliction from affection’s flight, I mouth the words that only you can know. Falling unto stranger ears, they stand confused, while you and I hold back tears, born from years and years of nothing more than what will be. Words that spill from lips stained with ink of regret’s past, I long for times that last, no longer can I cast my line of optimism. Tired, so tired, I barely stand, again, again, again, again, I grow so mad. Step by step by step, one piece gained for two I lost. Ramblings of the husk of man, I barely stand, tired, so tired, step by step, again, again, I grab for what I can no longer keep close. Weak. I am weak.

“I’m Losing Myself.”

Entranced, I take my only steps to find myself intertwined with you. Wrapped in silk, engorged on lust, I can only do what I can. Don’t leave my fingers trailing on your skin, akin to sparks on tinder, I fall again. Lost, I trust in your delight, I lose myself for just one night, at least that’s what I keep on saying. On and on, you make me plead, more and more, you take the lead. Step by step, we love again, until we are no longer.

“Longing.”

Are you better without me?
Grasping at your thoughts within my sleep
Mixing drinks with memories
Sleep beside all the things we couldn’t be.
Again and again, mixing red and green
Wishing you could hear all of me.
Speaking words you had to see.
Alone again, I reach for you
Once again, becomes two
More and more, I never knew
How much better you’d be without me,
Then I am without you.

I’d give away everything to be with you again.