sometimes i wish i could just leave this alone, detach its claws from me and seek death as a stranger and not a dear friend but i'm afraid if i don't have ink for veins i will never be anybody at all

sometimes i regret this

this, everything here

with this sweet ache in my chest, 
something heavy and oppressive 
that stands and crushes my ribcages 

smiling serenely down at me and telling me, 
pads of feet soaked in blood, 
but didn't you ask for this, darling? 

and it's true, 
i did, 
but i don't know how or why

i began writing poetry 
on a cold night in the far reaches of december, 
drowning my sorrows in the taste of champagne on my tongue 
sticking to the back of my throat
coursing through my veins
a sort of tipsy feeling like inhaling grape juice way too fast
and giving you the sensation of having your nose plugged with cotton
and eyes to the sky

i don't know anything else, 
except that i was sad and i believed i wouldn't be that way forever

and i was wrong

i was wrong but wouldn't, won't admit it
like loud beats through my headphones
giving me something, a restline, more solid than my heartbeat at least

because that's all i ever asked, wasn't it

so maybe i regret this a little, 
insomnia tinged like the 'old' paper we used to make as kids
white sheets stained with the yellowing wave of green tea

even though my fingers smoke of peppermint 
and i am no longer little and naive

i do not believe this sadness will ebb
like some kind of messed up tide 
or the dreams we used to have when we could 
reside our thin faith in the deities of the clouds

i learned this early on, i'll admit, 
though nuances of phrasing were a stranger to me for a long while

but i think everything, 
the watery verses of poetry 
and thickly weeped stanzas

are all something i feel a measure of remorse about. 

(not like i could take it back 
not like i could pretend the world is okay

because i'm not.)

and i never will be 

there are so many last sentences we never leave, 
delete and backspace 
and i am afraid that one day
i will be nothing more than a mistake.

The End

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