chicago

Distance seems to be a pleasant torture-

the kind that we endure with a constant

sharp 

and cruel 

pain.

For the sake of desire.

Changing my perception is only enough to keep me

from seeing you at the borderline.

Never enough to stop the knife in my gut from twisting

But if i tuck my head under the weight of the truth

i can barely even see you-

until I come back up for a breathe of air

Then the welling in my stomach moves up to my chest and I still cannot breathe-

because the realization that I am not with you

is more toxic than holding my breath waiting for you to return.

Detoxification spews from my eyes

and it rolls down my face but I am still silent

For loving you- and you loving me

is just enough to get me by

I find solace that I have you

at a distance

rather than not have you

at all.

Alley

It starts as the feeling of mourning,
Or better yet, the feeling of loss.
Loss of freedom
Independence
Safety
Innocence

Then it forms a conscious
And it tells you it's all your fault.
A
Sense of guilt.
A
Sense of hate.

Inward and onward bound,
The wrath of the shame has no boundaries.
Infinite
in the cycle of fault

Stitching yourself together
Day after day
Because the things that used to be ok are no longer alright
And every action feels like its pulling at your seams
Sometimes, it feels like blood is gushing from the wounds
And your skin feels swollen and sore from the stitches
But they aren't really there
And you know that
But it doesnt make them any less real

So
you start to cover the stitches with neosporin
So that they won't itch you during the day
And sometimes you almost forget they are there
Until someone gets too close and rips one open with a simple hug or touch on the arm...

The feeling of loss resurfaces
And the need to blame someone for this-
Returns.
It burns like a fire. And you can feel it right below the surface of the skin-
It's hot and it begins to bubble.

I hate that you feel this,
Because I feel it, too.