He

Everything in here is prim and proper. Sitting in a pre-determined pattern. Snug perfectly like pieces of a puzzle, each in its assigned position. Playing its own tiny part to keep the picture pendant. Precisely how it ought to be. Pray it all falls down one day– landslides of information. Floods of boxed away thoughts. It would rain blood on white terrain. All foundations of sanity would quake. All signs of consciousness would cease. I can picture the self disintegrate, it’s not a pleasant sight.

“See, you’re going there again.” he’s speaking again, I let him. “We talked about this. It’s okay, don’t worry, repetition is key. 1, 2, 3… 1, 2, 3… Don’t forget to breathe.” His hand slides up and down my arm, a comfort gesture. He’s been around more often these past days and I don’t mind.

“It’s a fragile thing, living in a sandcastle. Smooth, poised, unperturbed. On the outside its a solid facade, on the inside a hollow. A simple tap of a fingertip away from shattering.” I nod. I am powerless in front of him. He knows. “Part of the reason why everything in here must remain prim and proper. Snug perfectly like pieces of a puzzle, each linking to its assigned position. Playing its own tiny part to keep the picture pendant.” He senses my fingers fickle again. My head begins to hurt harder, an artery must’ve burst. My consciousness seems to be flickering. On one minute, off the next. Eyes can’t focus. A hand on my head, he strokes my hair. He knows me too well.

“It’s okay, I’m right here. Are you breathing right? Repetition is key. We’re on the same team remember? 1, 2, 3, 1,2, 3…I told you I’ll never leave.”

His voice sounds like home, so i obey. He watches me breathe, and I count as i do. 1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3…repetition is key. 1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3, my croaky voice booms in the empty tiled bathroom, my only companion a lizard on the ceiling, and He.

wean yourself off of life. kill off parts of ourselves. slowly, bit by bit. one at a time. so that its less painful, less hurtful, less noticeable.

theres a fight for dominance in my head
2 people have found abode in me
without my permission, against my will
they live like the most misbehaving tenants you’ve ever seen
one only drinks tea and one comes out late at night
there’s a fight for dominance inside my mind
a man and a woman have made themselves at home
without my permission, against my will
and when they fight i try not to look
not to feel, not to know what to do
i sit and wait for them to resolve
because you see as much as these two want to call it home
my body is but one mind, one heart, one soul.
it can only belong to one being at a time
i try thinking that, maybe they’ll understand
but tonight im losing to the man it seems
He wants me to cut my hair again
So I kiss a girl and make her feel pretty
I put flowers in her hair, capture the sun in her eyes, I paint her a ballad, do everything she likes

but its not my hands
not my lips

I am a hollow of a person, i can feel it. It’s like all this time I’ve been leaving parts of my soul everywhere i went, simply for the sake of letting go of it. disposing it off, ridding myself of the burden of carrying life.

Who do i tell this to

Its suffocating, living. Its making me want to clutch at my neck because i can’t breathe. A paradigm, i want to die but i must live. Death. such a pretty word. Such a beautiful thing. Death. I wpuld name my lover that. If i had one. I had a lover once though. But now all i see around me is death. i am infatuated with it. i am infatuated with a woman too. her name is fear.