To Write

Could I just be wildly myself
with you?
Even in the most
pure mirrors
and honest relationships,
I have held much back,
a closed guillotine
that I couldn’t seem
to pry open,
craving to howl out to you
the darkest and most
light pieces in me,
vibrant prisms glowing
in the moonlight shade.

The trick was to
trust you.
I was always trying
to force it,
silliness of course,
yet still seeing ugliness,
cruel words spoken
in moments of anger,
but I kept my
mouth stapled together.
I didn’t say
the hurricane in my head.

Mmm I wanted to,
my god,
to shout out
so badly,
to open truly,
but something’s so broken within there,
keys to my mouth,
they are in shards,
scattered to the
earth ends
and I cant
move my tongue,
just the way I want it,
stare you in your face
and create careful words,
carving them out with my teeth.
How dare you
disturb my fire breathing
slumber?
What is it now?
I was pressured
to get up on my virgin pedestal
and entertain you
so you could jack off
in the crowd
then blame me for your
bad habits,
Oh fuck no.
I whisk those demons
out of my body,
years of toxins clogging up
my bloodstream,
give me such a pain
I was up all hours,
all of my nights
whispering to the gods,
for why I am still here?

To write,
to heal,
to help. 

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