MIND: Autonomia

The only relationship that can make both partners happy is one in which sentimentality has no place and neither partner makes any claim on the life and freedom of the other.

The Unbearable Lightness of Being // Milan Kundera

SOL: Cauterize

In stolen moments I reflect on all that
You have done to me, everything that has changed since the
Dark year we spent together.
I am still trying to forgive you. I would be lying if I said
Some of your words don’t still haunt me; the harsh observations you made
About my character, some of which still ring true – I jump planes and change countries,
Trying to reconcile a version of myself that fits well. It has taken years for me to
Make peace with what we did to each other. Three years later I flew to your
Country and walked down your street.
Each step strained the muscles in my leg, my hair stood on edge, my heart
Was a great chained beast, aching with the
Desire to flee. Some scars don’t heal. Time doesn’t mend all
Wounds. I walked through your barrio and it all felt as familiar as
A fever dream. The things you subjected me to felt miles away and
Yet omnipresent. The park. Your apartment stoop. The corner where we fought and
You spoke with your fists, the bin where you hurled all my gifts in a rage. The memories
Have not faded with time but they hurt less. I don’t live in them anymore.

3AM Thoughts // AKA “Telenovela.”

SOL: Extinguished

You drain light from me so well
I start to love it, begin to crave your angry fists
Hammering either side of my head, I want to flinch
When your finger twitches, feel the decibels of my
Heartbeat increase with each violent speech
You make me weak, I start to miss it
Insufferable power struggles until your teeth
Eat my lips when we kiss, until you
Plunge into white skin, leaving purple flowers as a gift

3AM Thoughts // AKA “He Said Goodbye With His Fists, I Said Goodbye With My Lips.”

SOL: Retribution

Your love is toxic, pernicious
It slips barbed wire into my veins
After each embrace and leaves my
Skin feeling oily, serpentine
You make me want to crawl back into
The abyss I dragged myself out of
As I tumble headlong into destruction
My last thought will be, “You made me this way…”
Some days I feel rotten
Not just shabby, but decrepit
As though you are leeching away
Everything bright in my world
Replacing love with half-truths and muttered asides
Do you want this, do you want us?
I meant it when I promised I would leave
You are the best and worst of me
You are the sensitive patch of skin
And the knife that sneaks right in
You make me sick, and I mean that
In the most gut-wrenching sense of the word
A sadness that is perverse and explicit
Permeating from skin to emotion to marrow
I feel a cold sweet rush of nothing
I feel nothing, do you hear me?
Numbness, senseless, relentless – I am speaking
In half-truths and spitting out bullets
Blindly handing you fragments of words
That I have been biting back for years
I was warned about lovers being toxic
But I fear it’s women too

3AM Thoughts // AKA “Blame Yourself For Getting Cut Off, You’re The One Who Handed Me The Knife.”