Don't Let Me Catch You Crying

 You say that you care, in passing, when we talk.

It fills me with happiness and it makes me feel

strong; like I’m on top of the world. It makes me

smile, and I laugh a little because you’re the best

person I’ve known.

But then you go offline all day. You want to play

your game, and you can’t be bothered to message

me back. Your words, my ink. You care, but you

can’t even be bothered to talk to me, the person you
"love".

I feel more and more alone as each day goes by.
I get scared; I can feel you slipping away as the

hours tick by and I don’t know what to do. The

logical thing is to talk to you about it, I know.

But I tried.

I tried to talk to you. You had a panic attack.

And then told me it was my fault. And you didn’t

understand that it was me crying out for you. That

I was begging you to come back and talk to me like

we used to.

Darling, my health is deteriorating, and you don’t care.

I could die soon, and you don’t care enough to send me

a single message.

You would know, if you sent a message, asking how I

am.

Darling, I’ll be six foot under soon.

And I better not catch you crying -

I better not catch you saying you miss me

You had your chance

You walked away from it.

useful

i want to lay down
i want to close my eyes
i don't want them to open
ever again.

i want to be six foot under
buried beneath earth and roots
flowers growing on top of me
using me for food.

it's all i will ever be good for
people use me and leave
people use me and nothing
else.

so let nature use me.

let me be of use.

Home (2017)

The chill surrounds me and slips into my bones despite the blanket wrapped tightly around me. I relish the tightness that forms in my bones almost the moment the cold knives touch me. I smile and I look up at the sky above me. It's dark blue, illuminated orange by the numerous street lamps on the streets. Clouds block my view of the stars and my smile turns to a frown. I yawn and shift positions. I feel my knees lock into position and I find I can't remember how long I've been sat in this position. There's a painful throbbing above my left knee, tension trying to release itself, and I ignore it. I don't move. I barely breathe. I turn my gaze skyward once more and inhale the fresh air. Or as fresh as air in a shitty village can get. I realise I can't feel my exposed skin and poke at my arms. Pain explodes in the area and I sigh heavily. I know I should go inside. But it's two in the morning and peace has settled over the crappy world I live in. It would be a shame to pass up on staying here for a while. It's nearly three in the morning and I blink the bleariness from my eyes. As much as I love the feeling of cold enclosing me and making everything painful, I refuse to fall asleep outside in nothing but a shirt, underwear and a blanket that offers little protection. I sigh and eventually stand on shaky, locked legs that hurt to walk on. I take a breath and open the back door. My dog blinks at me, disturbed from slumber as he heaves a sigh. He rolls over and settles back down. I step inside and shut the door, locking it behind me. I stumble back to my seat on the couch and collapse there, wrapping the blanket tighter around my body. My hand finds the remote, and the poor rated horror movie begins to play in the dark again as my thumb hits play. I try and focus, but the plot is so bad, I end up staring at the wall. It's four in the morning now, and I stare at the clock in disbelief. Where did the last hour go?
I'm sure it was only a few minutes since
I last looked at my phone, before I began to look at the
curled black flowers on the wallpaper my mom chose to decorate the feature wall in the living room. I check all the clocks downstairs, but for sure, an hour has passed. There was something liberating as I sat back down. I spent an hour doing nothing but stare at the wall, and there are no consequences for not doing work, not doing chores, not focusing on my upcoming deadlines. A laugh bubbles from my lips as I focus on a new cheap horror movie. It's not long before I fall asleep on the couch. Tired from disassociation and heartache. It's how I became a nocturnal animal. Every night I stay up late for the time where there are no consequences. Nothing pressures me, just the soft beep of my partner replying. I know I don't have to run to reply to them, know they're okay and they're safe. It's a strange feeling, never having to be concerned and worried all the time in a conversation with the person I'm dating. It's also liberating. Every night, I stay up and do what I want to do. Not what the world wants me to do. Not what my mother or my college wants me to do. It's just me. My only company, the soft notification of my partner and the dog that stayed up to protect me and sleep on the rug, curled in a ball. It's quiet. It's welcoming. It's Home.