I am the breeze that gives tongues to the trees at night…
hissing wooden skeletons trying to whisper secrets of your darkness.
I am the loneliness that comes knocking at your door cuz it was too lonely…
the kind that lasts longer than a tattoo and lesser than tearstains.
I am the hollow that hugs your heart from the inside
and makes you wish there was something left; anything but this.
I am the hollow that makes you miss loneliness… your morose
your rage… any excuse to not be this empty; anything but this.
I am the darkness that fills your thoughts… the one that draws you to it
only to shatter like a bubble revealing but your name in its popping echo.
I am the nightmare that seduces you with the charm of a billow in a sandstorm
and it’ll be too late before you realize it knows no mercy to melt.
I am the desire that holds you captive inside your head like a ship in a bottle
and no matter how hard your row; I am always the shore that’s just two waves away.
I am the breath that suffocates you into a comatose of collapsing sighs
because your lungs never seem to have enough of me to sigh deeply enough.
I am the silhouette you’ve been jealous of, peeping into windowed suits you can’t afford.
Not for you’re broke but for you’d nowhere to be in it; in me… a shadow that you follow.
I am that scar from a paper cut that you loved more than all those tattoos
that spelled out your life’s meaning to any eye because nothing hurt as little as me.
I am that image, you had imagined of everything that you now can’t remember because
each detail that you pictured is off by 1 tiny inch, casing your OCDs deafening red flares.
I am that trophy that you took to bed each night, that you won for your favourite song
but is now a reminder of disappointment so you let it gather dust & entertain cobwebs,
that you’ve now forgotten the words to cuz it lost the sense that it used to hold for you.
I am the bad news you’ve been scared of, your entire life, the kind you tell yourself…
the one about how you slept in, hung-over on the poems you wrote to distract yourself
from battles of your celibate dungeons of self-pity & your throne-room brothel of an ego,
& missed your train to where all your insecurities locked up; plotting a prisonbreak.
I am that arrowhead laced with the deadliest venom of all–love. Something you’d dreamt
would be worth dying for when you found it; only to realize not in ways you’d preferred.
I am the sorrow that strokes your spine when you feel naked even to open up to yourself,
a vulnerability that compels you to stow truths away to quit acknowledging pain,
sending shivers, the barely reanimated corpses goosebumps bygone, coursing through…
like a broken string dangling from a guitar humming a last tune with its dying breath.
I am a hope that conspires with those voices in your head, knowing all that you seek;
a hope that, in the end when just a breath away, turns to dust in your mouth.
I am knowledge that you’ve been counting on all along… a compilation piled together
from realization, introspect, betrayal, pain & all other things pettily human… counting on
to come to your aid when you trigger those landmines again; to save you & like all things
yours, it was waiting to fail you, leaving you wondering how overrated a power is it‽
I am the one memory that has yet to cause you suffering the way everything else had had and now you, an atheist, pray for a will to forget it before it does, still sweet in its wake.
I am that forgiveness that you had never wanted for yourself but were bestowed with,
making me the mother of our firstborn, guilt, and your stillborn hope for redemption.
I am the choice that makes you choose between a heavy heart and an abusive mind.
I am the paradox that your life has become. I am the irony your headstone’d be about.
I am the hazard you’ve been waiting for all this time and darling, I am here.