Remembrance

It has been silent since you left

and I can’t cope.

The lack of movement in this house

has me destroyed.

I keep looking over

expecting the views to change.

But everything remains

eerily the same.

My eyes trace the spot

where your body was warm.

My feet stay rooted 

right into the floor.

Unable to move,

unable to change. 

Hoping if I don't blink

i'll see you again. 

My mind doesn't hold 

the things that I know.

I can't hold back time

and keep it from its flow.

Life has lost and 

now you're gone.

Everything feels 

off kilter and wrong.

You're no longer making

imprints in my bed.

Footprints that now run

inside of my head.

I hope that you remember

how you were loved.

I hope that I remember 

that I was deeply loved.

Buried

Why do people think I hold it together

When all I do is fall apart?

Hiding my thoughts deep in the shadows,

Picking at the stitches in my heart.

Why do people think I'm not broken

When the cracks show all over me?

But I've been buried right in the open

Hidden where I can't be seen

(Or interacted with).

Brainburn

I'm fed up with reliving 

interfering with living.

Memories that had their moment

taking up more of time.

Setting up home inside

my brain like they live there.

Leaving candy wrappers

all over the ground.

I'm fed up with my mind

giving space to those 

that don't deserve it.

People that already 

took up too much of me

like they own my mind.

Dragging mud all over my body

with their dirty shoes.

Not a symphony 

but a cacophony of noise.

A barrage of voices 

that all wanted to be heard.

No one willing to take a seat 

and wait their turn

because screaming is

what they are uses to.

I wish that I could 

drown them out with my pain.

I crush them hard with my trauma.

Hoping they will feel an inch

of all they cut into me.

I bury them under all my mental illness.

Let them feel lost like I did.

Let them cry and not feel sated

and burn themselves out.

But memories are translucent

and self flagellation.

Simple thought that just haunts me

and me alone.

Life's cruelty is that they

continue their lives.

At least I get the satisfaction 

of watching them

Die. 

The failure of therapy

Pt 1

Him

You keep waltzing into my head 

like you own the place,

With that smug look of satisfaction 

planted on your face,

The same way that you always do.

So very typical of you 

and your need to control the narrative. 

Voices that echo through my brain,

Mocking me for not being sane.

There's a sharpness to how you detonate. 

There's a freshness to how I remember pain.

You took the hinges off the door.

(Like you used to.)

Broken barriers scattered on the floor.

(Like they used to.)

I asked myself who am I even keeping them for.

(Like I used to.)

You never change. 

I tried to change. 

Pt 2

They say therapy helps

Is it healing when it's on repeat?

Am I unbattered if it's now me 

that doles out the beat-

ing and defeat

and you give me nothing?

Is it healing to ask me how I feel,

just to tut a response that's so unreal?

Pen me down and then forget

The appointment 

again and again and again.

What's the point

If he can just walk all over me 

and set my world on fire?

He's a battering ram 

and you're a professional liar.

Both on repeat and

I'm getting tired 

of hearing your voices

Go on

Again and again and again and again. 

Again and again and again and again. 

Again and again and again and again. 

Again and again and again and again. 

I'm not going to keep chasing a new appointment.