when i was young
i was prone to fits of inconsolable sobbing
crying that i wanted to go home
while in my own house
it was impossible to reassure me,
aching for a place that didn’t exist
i cried for my mother
for the warmth of an embrace i’d never felt
and eventually i’d begin to apologize
over and over
for existing in the first place
“i’m sorry i'm like this”
these days
i do my best not to exist at all
-
-
an unceasing cruelty has found its home in my heart
punishment that knows no bounds, affliction in retribution for my existence
accursed,
i stand
soulscorched under moonlight, tonguetied and dumbstruck
this raging storm and city smog, mirror to mirror, though never eye to eye, to our reflection
i say
“this breastbone threatens to burst, i am tearing at the seams
i am pulling at the stitches,
unravel me”
and when the first pair of hands meets the knots with intent to untie
i find myself fashioning a noose from the remnants of entanglement
snared and strung up by my own trap
originally intended to be lethal
killswitch just out of arms reach
how hopeless
how pointless
to attempt to cut the rope
tethered to my heartbeat
the drums pick up and i fall down
lost in a siren’s song to a deafened sailor
“please, won’t you cup the flame in my chest
for it threatens to consume me whole”
incinerate
ashes to ashes
dust to dust
“snuff it out”
i pray i will forget
i ache for oblivion
i scream until the echoes reverberate against the walls of my bedroom, dragged along by the imperceptible ropes you’ve fashioned to my joints
i cry
“please, wont you pull the strings just a little bit more?”
the marionette pleads for the puppeteer in vain
to make her
anything more than lifeless
husk, eternal phantom pantomime -
i am sick of living in stasis. i want to make something of myself. i want to create again.


