The moon shined so bright,

Your hands around my neck.

I thought I'd forgotten your voice

But your memory was all I had left.

Under the water nothing made sense.

The salt covered what I had left to hide.

My mind drifting to the light.

The feelings that took years to sink.

Under the moon's eye,

A different part of me came alive.

The grief that had drowned me then.

I should've stopped you but I don't know when.

Even if it's not really you, I can lie.

I went here in fear now I'll leave like I'm high.

So I reach out, not to stop you,

But so I can hold you, under this rocky tide.

I'm so glad to see you again tonight.

For the first time in a while and for the last time, goodbye.
-Persephone

My hands that reeked of death.
I was stained before I knew.
What it meant,
What loss entailed.

I was different once,
Now I'm different too.
The loving gaze,
Reached me from the stars.

One faithless day.
I watched me die.
What I could've been if I never knew.
You stared at me like the gravel.

I laid to rest,
All my innocence.
The light inside me,
Snuffed before it could form.

The cold metallic taste now stuck,
Clinging onto me.
Like nothing ever will.
Because I will always reek of death.

And I will mourn for you.
For what I could have been.
Your life that had only just begun,
Pretending that it was enough.

You will never know what it is, to stop.
-Percy

'Come,
Take my hand'.
Said the boy
That I,
Created in my head.
To live a little lie,
And go here instead.
Escaping my pain,
Away from such dread.
When I open my eyes,
I see nothing but red.
But I cave inside,
And here,
I fled.

I grew up in a house of closed doors and retreating footsteps, so light I wondered if anyone was even there. A house of ghosts, defined by a thick layer of dust on the couches, and doorbells that were never answered.

I grew up in a house of silence, the only signs of life: coffee mugs in the sink, and leftover crumbs on the kitchen counter. Silence so palpable it wraps itself around my throat until it becomes comforting. The microwave cannot reach zero here.

Birds chirp incessantly on Sunday mornings, and the weight of their music sits heavily on my chest. Plants reach for a slab of sunlight trickling between dusty window shades. I can hear their leaves straining, and I want to tell them to stop.

A patch of sunlight reaches the floor, and my cat purrs loudly and unforgivably in it's warmth. Sitting at the edge of my bed, there are hushed footsteps down the hallway, a door softly shuts, the silence is broken.

My throat tightens, and I shrink away from the light. To be unseen and unheard here is to be safe. There are five ghosts in this house, and I am one of them.

I thought a single line of white dust up your right nostril can numb away the pain
That countless nights of drunken stupors could make me forget
That constantly telling myself I'm just experimenting and not suppressing
Hoping one day I'd forgive him but only finding myself regretting
You see I'm not addicted to the substance
I'm addicted to blame, blaming him for the pain
I'm addicted to the anger, the anger that he triggers when i realize I'm turning into him.

Always intoxicated on some other ailment. Intoxicated on the lustful idea that we could be the perfect pair
but now all i think is how i wasn't good enough, how K & L are your legacy, and I'm just a girl who you once said you loved, but don't bother to acknowledge.

You see dad, I denied my anger for so long
Said it was all in my head
but now i realize, I forgive you, because the more hate i fuel the more hate i feel

Is it too late?

you stole the song off my breath,
you stole the sweet off my smile,
i'll hit this blunt until there's nothing left
and stay hollow here a while,
and there's nothing left
between the forest and the fire,
so i'll watch it all burn down
and just pray the flames grown higher.

do you think that they remember me?
the girl with doll eyes who gave into them endlessly
and covered up their lies.
i was a child,
too small to reach, yet still to big to cry.
sometimes the lesson doesn't teach,
sometimes the phoenix doesn't rise,

and the ash remembers me
as the one who got away.
i try not to think too much,
and there's just not much to say,
and if the sky were to fall down,
how much would it weigh?
on my shoulders, getting older,
but as young as i was that day.

for now, i'll just get high,
stare into the wall,
sink into this place where
there's nothing left at all.
time moves faster every day,
and still i feel so small,
trapped inside this place where
there's nothing here at all.

sometimes i wonder when i cry, does god listen
but maybe i should quit crying
go back to rutland, where we all suffer
where we all ache bullet wounds
named after our mother
where we all love snow and
it often rains
so when the sun does come
it's a subtle pain
warmth unfamiliar
unaccustomed to change,
unprotected from the elements,
we are all one in the same-
the sisters and brothers
from the other side of the tracks
who got unlucky and missed the train.

sometimes i think god just went blind
or maybe he forgot our names
but at least we take cover in
the trauma of one another,
our broken bones
and broken veins

sometimes i wonder when we cry, does god listen
if we can ever heal in the arms of each other
if we shattered the sky could we
stop the rain