Salt

Quick heart beats in cold vacant parking lots.

The tight grip, heavy breaths,

sweat.

My face shoved down hard into his backseat,

the fabric rug burned onto my cheek.

The smell of air freshener and sorrow.


His tongue tasted of the salts of my skin when he kissed me goodbye and said “I love you.”

If only I said goodbye to myself too:

a subtle wave, 

a tear.


Every salt, every atom of my sanity was stolen from me that night

Now I am bland: baggy hoodies and layered clothing,

unfun,

unlike those free “wild” girls

showing their bodies with pride.


My pride on a platter,

picked away from his teeth with a toothpick

until all that remained was nothing.


Our friends keep asking if I’m okay.

He smiles in their faces, puts his arm around me;

I say, “of course!”

I put on this show day after day,

month after month.

He says “I love you.”

Our friends applaud with so cutes and awww how sweets,

but I say nothing.

Head hung low, my eyes tell all,

whispering truths to the pavement.


He kisses my cheek…

it burns.

He says “I love you”

“Awww how sweet”

But this time,

I raise my head,

chin high, tears running down face,

My voice stern with anger,  “HOW SALT!”

Bleeding in your name

He told me he loved me

and when I turned away he ran to me,

dropped to his knees in front of me and said he was sorry,

grabbed me and pulled me close to him,

buried his face into my stomach,

pleaded for my love,

pleaded for me to not give up on him.

And the blood began dripping from my wrists,

my hand is his hair trying to comfort him,

I watched as it seeped into his hair.

I dropped to my knees.

I pulled him close and held him,

but I felt nothing. 

I watched the blood stain his clothes.

He told me he loves me.

I said nothing.

He opened his eyes, 

panic.

He began wrapping one of my arms in his shirt.

He cried.

And I raised my hand to his cheek to comfort him,

caressed it and said:

“I love for you,”

“I hurt for you,”

“I bleed for you.”

He held me in his arms

And I closed my eyes.

I felt nothing.

And soon after I was nothing.

Like Candle Wax

My heart is too full,

gushing, exploding with emotions

seeping out all the love my body produces for it.

My mind a factory of feelings:

machines running, running, running;

running fast like thoughts,

like candle wax dripping onto my skin.

It’s nice; but sometimes it hurts a lot.

Sometimes I think I can handle it,

but then my body is left with scars,

with these emotions burned into my skin:

some more permanent than others.

I try my best to shed my skin of the memories,

but when I think, I remember everything,

remember all the hurt.

And I go numb.

My heart is empty,

like suffocating lungs.

Uncomfortable.

Needing.

Panicking to be full.

I breathe: in and out, in and out, and

in and out: until I think my lungs are going to explode,

until my body refuses to stop shaking,

until I am curled up on the cold wooden floor,

tears gushing down my face,

seeping out all the pain my body loves to create.

My mind an unforgiving factory,

refusing to shut down when I beg it to.

It keeps running:

running, running, running,

like candle wax pouring onto my skin,

burning and scaring everything it touches.