The White Flags

I was an abyss,

bottomless.

I was a human deficit,

with a pothole mind.

Before I met you

I was psycho-delic,

spitting shrapnel,

pulp fiction dripping from

fingertips, crying tears of

cyanide, way of life a

circle feeding into itself

and fortifying the wrong.

Before I met you,

I was a civil war in stilettos

and

regardless of the winning side

I was always the loser.

Loser hung at the edge of

a blue frown.

“Loser” stained teeth like

vomited blood, as I cast

every insult I could think

at the mirror.

Loser stumbled from the threshold

of self-blacked eyes and climbed down

my face.

But then you arrived,

a cavalry to catch me

and save me from

falling into myself

any further.

You severed my civil war

and the white flags were raised

and the white flags were waved

and the white flags stood

planted in the dirt of the bottom I’d found.

I now had a place to land, a place

to start, and with your help

I began to climb higher.

#fiction