Trauma
silk red
is the river between us
a dark pool
brimming with crimson splendour
atop the ash and dust
life wilds softly
kindly
just moments after
the violence ensued
in the pale light of the morning
your sudden absence
an unfamiliar void
I cannot fill
your white, soul-less gaze
cold and inescapable
where does life and death begin
along this river of culpability
where love turns to pain
in its merciless end
– silk river
please don’t cry
too much
I haven’t cleaned the gutters
and I don’t want
to cause a flood
– repression
I’m afraid
of opening the box
the ribbons
are deceptively colourful
but I know
the darkness inside
is endless
and will crush me
ruthlessly
under its power
– pandora
sometimes I lose the present
like a lace curtain
has fallen
between me and the world
I am neither here
nor gone
but somewhere in between
where the damp air fuels the rot
extracted
through a cold vacuum
from the last
vestiges of my body
like a lost ship
drifting in exile
calling out to life
in the distance
– dissociation
words
are the hardest
to say
time has stolen
and frozen them
in my throat
like cement
hardening
in a mine shaft
– frozen
find me
in the space between
the light
and the dark
in the crevices
where lonely hearts hibernate
to survive
this taut body
a soft cloak of armour
to repel all wondering eyes and
wondering hands
that follow me through
the days
and the nightmares
self-destructive
preservation
the only thing more bearable
than the truth
spoken from the crib:
that which is unspeakable
in this life
– the body keeper
the truth is, I love to lose
the pain is familiar
like cutting myself
when no one is watching
– counting losses
tell me
how you feel
let me comfort you
carry you
tell you everything
will be ok
lean on me
when the world
is too much
when the stress
and the pain
cripples you
depend on me
to lift you out of bed
to dress you
nourish you
push you
trust me
to always be there
to keep you
from falling apart
expect me
need me
use me
then watch me break
underneath you
– burdens
I wish I could get angry
like you
so unfiltered
and alive
it must be good
to feel things
in your own body
– filtered
I think I heard you say
that was nice
though I’m not sure who you were trying to convince.
maybe what you meant was
sorry
I thought you were just here for me to do what I want with
or
excuse me, I hope you don’t mind if I just rip you open
stuff myself inside you and sew you back together again
with
that was nice
as you glanced back
with a pang of guilt
swiftly buried for the sake of your own
conscience –
I’m sure
that was nice.
In fact I wish I felt as guilty
because resentment at my own
paralysis
stings
burns
from the place you invaded me
to the back of my throat
where I have to carry you around
inside of me
long after you picked up
your clothes
and left.
– nice boys
I can still feel you
inside of me
I never wanted you there
– scar
I see you
looming
in the crevices
stroking the follicles
on the back of my neck
with your breath
an absent face
in an ethereal dream
picks me apart
piece by piece
and defeat
grips me
the exits have faded
and we are alone
eclipsed by your shadow
I drown
in your hunger
tonight, I will let you take me
– depression
don’t look at me like that
so shrill
and discerning
you’re not allowed to see
what I hide
in the cupboard
– secrets
your bones
are just
a frail cocoon
for
a slowing heart
losing rhythm
calling out for
my
touch
but
brittle
between my fingertips
unsung secrets
drip
drip
from your lips
– bones
eating is overrated
she said
no matter how much
or little
I feed my body
it is still ugly
so I might as well stop
altogether
and yet
only love can feed beauty
– hunger
I’m so tired
of being your sponge
soaking up
all the feelings
you spill out onto the table
– sponge
no matter how much
you reject me
in the end
I’m always there for you
what would I know?
I’m just
someone with an opinion
– contempt
I must be your mirror
you hate everything about yourself
and you see it
in me
– conflict
