My Mother Tells Me It Is Not Me She Dosent Trust Out In The World But Rather That She Does Not Trust

My mother tells me it is not me she dosent trust out in the world but rather that she does not trust the world with me.

And I learn from a young age what a privilege it is to be endangered.

To be wanted into extinction.

To be desired into oblivion.

In this same way my grandmother tells me that sometimes honesty sounds alot like silence.

That sometimes the truth is quiet.

In this same way my sister teaches me that forgiveness comes when she is ready.

~

Most days there is only forgiveness.

Cupped in my palms

Trying to stop it from trickling through my fingers.

I sip it every morning

Which is to say I seek forgiveness

From myself

Everytime I dare show my face to the sky again.

With the knowledge that I will inevitably break promises I made to me

That I will inevitably transgress against the girl I could become

And every morning I ask for her mercy

But she cannot grant it to me

For I have not granted her existence yet

And in this way I live in sin

~

Self destruction dares to taste foreign on my lips

Like rotting cherries

But how much easier it is to relearn old habits the second time around

When the mouth still tastes like burning teeth

~

I flinch so violently at the sound of my name

daring to disturb the molecules of the ether with something so undeserved

Petals fall from grace

It is my fault

Always my fault

Oh rebellious bones

How my blood blisters my veins

I think this is the way

Love moves

~

and this is how it ends

the last notes of my blood composed of subpar symphonies finally slip out into the void

my radio static heartbeat fades to quiet

and this is how it ends

in my final moments

the universe sings me to sleep

with one last lesson

my mother never had the words to teach me

and the endless silence of the infinite

caresses me into oblivion.

i exhale one last shooting star

weightless at last

as i disintegrate into the galaxy

with the realization of what a beautiful mercy

it is

to be forgotten

~

poetry dump of random lines that mean nothing in particular unless you'd like them to

I lost track of the wounds

In the end

The only one that mattered

Was the one you gave me

In the end

The only one that mattered

Was you

In the end

It was the betrayal that slaughtered me

Before the blood loss

When your eyes sliced into my soul

Puncturing the vital organ

I was dead before your blade parted flesh

Ghost before my body hit the ground

~

In the end

My final breath

An exhale of your name

That still tasted like home on the tounge

My blood forgetting to be afraid

In your familar palms

~

But if I am spirit

Why I am the one haunted?

By you

Or some part of you that perished

With me

Begging for mercy

I do not know how to grant you

~

And if you lived

Why did I find you

Haunting your own shell

When I returned to

Forgive you

~

~And Caeser Thinks: If Betrayal Is A Kiss, I am Glad I Tasted It Last From Your Lips

"There's a special place in hell for people like you, you know that?"

"You bet. The V.I.P. section, baby."

The silence in the aftermath of an apology is a conniving thing

Greedy for forgiveness

Pulling assurances from you before you are ready to give them

They say forgiveness is a small price to pay for peace

But the question is who's?

Is my clemency enough to buy redemption for 2?

Are your sorries enough to purchase you freedom from guilt?

And if I cannot find my peace without granting you yours too

Then so be it

A lie is a small price to pay for justice

I promise myself I will unforgive you

That I will unaccept the apology somehow

That the sorries you mail in cheap white envoples will be returned to sender

That the meager words you offered me that I swallowed for the sake of hospitality will not be digested

I tell myself your suffering is worth the cost of mine

That if enough of your guilt devours you from the inside out, you may soon become emptier than I am

But we are both being eaten alive

For some things in this life are insatiable

Are merciless

For this we both know

So let it be be a waiting game

To see who holds out longest

Before mercy takes us

For herself

~ i do not care if you are sorry anymore (02.21.21)

For does the devil not simply give us what we ask for?

For does the devil not find us all on our knees?

@thatmusicgeek22 My thoughts e x a c t l y

Today I am thinking about Alex Claremont-Diaz with the classic bisexual inability to sit properly.