Knowing that she severed me
and transplanted an illness,
her illness,
her memories,
her bite,
and her soul
Knowing that by her I am sick
allows me to sleep on my wrongs
like a metal spring mattress.
I still rest my head like all the
others did.
Nothing mattered then
and still nothing will
so why ill the ones who live in
their reality?
I will choose to bliss by
a film and sunshine and vanity
and wish you better
wish me better.
Wish that I might live forward.
And I will.
If I choose to breathe at all I will breathe ahead.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s