im picturing a lot right now

some thoughts i have give me pause

the hesistation

the waiting

the fucking fear that holds me so tight

I feel like I can't breathe.

when is the end

im usually pretty grounded

but the way

my heart pounded

it broke a few ribs

im usually in control

but hyperventilating

paid the toll

for the breath of my lungs

ive usually got a grip

but today i felt

each finger slip

just in time to lock the door.

the shaking breath

of a barely

whispered word

flutters

against your lips,

my wet mouth

pressing demanding

asking seeking hoping

begging you,

to touch me

inviting you to

enter me

and to

please

leave me

more empty

than i was before.

It was a dream

Inside a locked room,

A dream about being a person.

I came into that room

and I saw

The ugly deformities

and unbelievable atrocities

that we all hide

And I don’t know.

I don’t know why we hide them

I don’t know why we only show

The vulnerable

these parts.

These damaging parts,

With our mental health

Chugging along a tightrope

That strains under the weight

Of locomotive thoughts

And fantasy coal.

I came and I saw the end of all that

Is good and right,

Until I came to the end

Of that dream

And I knew.

I am not a person,

And we are all monsters.

Ambivalence is the

true

silent killer.

It stalks

inside an empty shell,

flinging choices

around to rattle

the silence

inside,

as if

the shaking in my chest will stop

at any

distraction it makes

A frantic sweep

of the eyes

in the

dark reveals

that I haven’t changed

and

I’ve only

gone too far to prove it.

A lesser life

behind a

stark future.

I crawl forward

holding

my profound words,

Lie to yourself

to seek

the truth and

you will find it best served

cold,

is that why I shake,

as I

stew in

the wake

of my chaos,

unearthed.

I saw them, when I was supposed to be alone.

But they were not.

And I had a feeling they saw me too.

I walked along the edge of the lake, bare feet blue with cold.

Numb.

I felt numb.

Finally.

Which was fine, I suppose. There was a reason I was alone, anyway.

Crack.

Eyes met eyes.

Mine, as cold as they’ve always been.

Theirs, several pairs, watching in fragments of the ice, observing.

Beckoning.

Hating.

Longing.

I knew.

I had to go to them.

Water moved and the ice shifted,

And I saw her.

Evelyn.

My love.

She smiled at me, the skin of her mouth splitting, blue blood spilling from her lips...

Her eyes were so beautiful.

Silver.

The ice queen.

She held a hand, and forward I walked, leaving skin upon these frozen wastes.

I didn’t feel it, staring almost through her, towards the lone cabin, surrounded by white pines. Silent, skeletal sentinels guarding my treasures.

I almost saw her hanging there, then remembered where she hung, there in the bathroom.

There for me.

Where I left her.

Still beautiful,

She was here now.

Striding toward me,

More beautiful now, the white translucency of her hand gripping my arm,

Crack.

Breaking it.

I smiled at her in return.

Evelyn.

My love, leading me further out,

To the center of the lake.

I saw others, hands pushing against the surface, their eyes watching me all this time.

One more pair every time I came here,

To this place,

But none of them captured me like Evelyn,

Even as I captured them before,

She was the one.

Crack.

I fell.

To their arms,

From hers.

Evelyn,

I am yours.

Reflected,

In ice,

Captive to you,

As you were to me.

Something is wrong.

You can't remember, but it haunts you.

You're shaking, inside, heart trembling, torso

Caving in on

itelf.

Normalcy is the only thing you want,

Despite your eyes

flickering around, trying to find the source of this.

This.

Holding your hand in front of your face,

Desparate for something to focus on,

Your fingers flinch away.

Knuckles crack,

and

You watch your own body

betray you,

Because you cannot watch your mind do it.

It searches for an answer to your question, what the fuck is wrong?

And the answer it finds,

Denies,

is

This.

The chemicals overcome any logic,

Seratonin

dopamine

Oxytocin

The mixture equaling something entirely unequal.

This.

Your mind reaches for anything but that realization,

picking fights,

attaches itself to them ferociously,

With him, with friends, with inanimate objects,

You feelings cannot be trusted.

It is your life now.

This.

you pray,

though you're not the type

maybe the meds will be the answer

maybe the shame and

guilt

will soon become

bearable.

And of course you doubt it,

as you always do,

restlessly, listlessly

In the state of mind you live in,

That something is irrevocably,

irreedemably,

wrong.

This.

But you forget, to check your emotion,

as that is the

nature

of the beast.

To feel,

that one thing,

and not think.

The thing that is wrong,

is

This.

Let me sleep

I am confident

In my grief

They would take me from

Your hand

This is the murmur of

The land

These woods sigh

And touch, they

Ask me why

I'm not sure why every leaf

Must die

I only ask that you let

Me lie

Let me sleep

I am confident

In my grief

I love you because you revived a part of me I thought long dead.

The part that freely gives and completely trusts.

I love you because you brought out a part of me I thought would never come back.

The part that giggles unapologetically and playfully smiles.

I love you because you made a part of me feel safe.

The part that shudders in the quiet corners of my mind, filled with fear and pain.

I love you because you showed a part of me that your eyes are the only mirror I need.

The part that cries when I look at my body and compare myself to what I think I should be.

I love you because you showed a part of me that emotion isn't weakness.

The part of me that hates itself for it being able to hide.

I love you because you breathed new life into all these parts.

Into a whole worth loving.

Happy Valentine's Day,

Your Kitten.

Something happened.

It's uncomfortable.

I think about it all day.

It's all there.

The details.

The overview.

Where's the big picture?

Was something taken from me?

Why did I cry?

I told my friend Heather.

She said,

"I'm sorry that happened to you."

Was it that unfortunate?

Did it just happen to me, like stepping on a piece of gum on the sidewalk?

Did I lose anything?

Does being realistic take away the fact that I was not okay with what was happening?

I told my friend Zane.

He said,

"I don't think you should deny your victimhood."

Am I a victim?

I was drunk.

I was.

But I could have called an Uber,

Or a Lyft.

They're both popular in the area.

But I didn't want to spend the money.

I mean, the party was cool,

After all,

Until everyone left.

And I was in the bedroom.

If I had so many chances to say no,

And didn't,

But never said yes either,

Does that change things?

Does it?

Does it.

Does.

It.