alone again

alone again

i reach for you in the darkness,

desperate to feel you near.

then the truth crashes in,

and i realize

i’m alone again

because of me.

it always ends this way.

i push and pull,

ruin everything

just trying to hold on

a little tighter,

but all i find

is emptiness

where you should be.

i tried so hard

to match your version of “okay,”

to act normal,

to quiet the chaos in my head.

every unread message,

every misunderstanding,

cracked me open wider.

panic. grief. rage.

all tangled,

swallowing me whole.

so i lashed out,

hoping you would see

how much i needed you,

but you didn’t.

so i left before you could leave me,

tearing us apart

with my own hands.

i waited to see

if i was worth reconciliation,

but you let me hang there

in the silence,

and my nightmares became real.

maybe i am too much.

but you hurt me,

and i let it flood us both,

just trying to be seen.

i wish i could take it all back.

i wish my words

had never become the things

that pushed you further away.

i wish you knew

how every emotion in me

still burns,

but you never will.

and then that truth sinks in,

and there is only emptiness left.

i wonder if everyone who gets close

will always find a reason to run.

i don’t know,

maybe it’s deserved.

Drowning in Advice

i don’t know what i’m going to do.

i’m on a boat that’s slowly sinking,

and the water pulling me under

is my depression.

i keep reaching out to every boat that passes,

waving my arms, yelling for help,

and all i hear back is,

“just don’t drown, stay positive, keep swimming.”

as if “not drowning”

is something i haven’t thought of yet.

i say “thank you” with my teeth clenched,

eyes rolling, chest still heavy,

still sinking.

i grab for anything.

someone throws me a life jacket.

great. now i can float

in the middle of my depression

instead of going under.

i’m still out here.

still cold.

still alone.

then i see a lifeboat.

for a second, i breathe.

okay, maybe this is it.

but no one helps me climb in.

they circle around me,

tell me how strong i am,

ask me to rate my pain from one to ten,

then drift away

and leave me in the water

like i was never really there.

when a boat finally comes close enough,

i see a tiny hole in the bottom.

not big enough to sink me now,

just big enough to promise

that if i trust it,

i’ll still drown,

slower this time,

one leak, one waitlist,

one “we’re doing all we can” at a time.

out of options,

i lie back in the water,

let it rise around my ears.

there’s no real rescue coming,

just more voices on the shore

offering advice instead of hands,

doing the bare minimum

and calling it support.

what’s the point of emergency gear

if it only keeps me alive enough

to keep suffering?

what’s the point of reaching out

if i’m handed bandages

for a boat split down the middle,

if every “solution” expires

before i even see the shore? 

Bound by You

i cry every night for paradise
tears burn like fire in a puddle of rain
send your best angel to take my soul away
i reach for heaven, just for heaven's sake

desperation wears me like a second skin
thoughts running free but never within

i need to reach you, but i can’t break through
I’m forsaken, but I’ll never leave you
bound by a love that’s turned see-through

till the kiss of death brings us back again

I still love you

 i can still remember

the feel of your head in my hand
as i kissed you passionately,
offering you every piece of my heart.

i did so willingly,
knowing you were planning
on ripping it out of my chest.

i felt it, i tasted it,
i saw it weeks before you did it,
but as i looked at you,
you never changed.

your words remained the same,
still as sweet as the honey
that trembles on the edge
of a lover’s lips.

your touch,
still as soft as the rain
that conceals an approaching storm.

i knew you were going to leave,
but i stayed.

i watched the death of us
a million times over,
but nothing hurts worse
than hearing you in real time
say you don’t want me.

how did we get here?
i still love you.