Twisting

IT HURT LIKE HELL,
TO WATCH YOU DIE.
TO WATCH YOU TWIST THE KNIFE.

SIDE TO SIDE,
FORWARDS AND BACK
SLOWLY YOU TWISTED THE KNIFE.
TRYING TO CATCH A GLIMPSE
OF IT’S SHINING BLADE.

BUT YOU NEVER SAW.
STARNGE HOW YOU NEVER SAW IT,
NEVER FELT IT’S PAIN.
ONLY WHAT WAS INSIDE.

INSIDE AND EATING AWAY.

AND THIS IS ALL METOPHORICAL
BUT IT HURT LIKE HELL.

Imagery

I have a wandering thought
sometimes I catch glimpses of
that if I had a semi-automatic
I could figure what was wrong.

Take away the emptyness.

Hold it in my hand
pull the trigger.

Hold it to my head
pull the trigger.

She

She objects
to everything
you ever were

and everything
I cannot be.

You, grateful and contented

My ghost

shimmered in the attic,
sparkling for all to see

gently
carving herself
into my side.

You,
grateful for all she entertained
and kept contented.

And you left me
alone with her

glistening and new

what harm could come to me?

My ghost
darkened my mind
burning away memories

to keep me numb.

The Other

I
stole your
words
replacing them
with
my own
until
somewhere amoungst
all
the debris
you
thought they
were
your own.

Fighting back

Today
I fight hard
to breath.

To be.

To stand still
in this space

fucked up
and caged in.

Today
I fight hard
to be.

Stalling

Faltering on my way to
unimaginable highs,
stuttering,
I splinter in every way possible
and ways
you haven't yet thought of.