#heart-ship

Restrained, maintained, polite.

Stay nice, stay nice, stay nice.

Even if you have a guttural scream

climbing up your spine.

We are dining here,

utensils scraping plates.

Please chew with

your mouth closed.

My dear your carnage,

is spilling everywhere.

Grab a napkin, blotting,

you are in over your head.

Your panic is misread,

yet plastered all over.

It seems this relationship

has befallen foreclosure.

Your access has been revoked.

The country club will not let you in.

The district will not count your votes.

Restrained, maintained, polite.

Stay nice, stay nice, stay nice.

Even if you have a disillusioned dream

wreaking havoc every night.

I advise you find some decorum.

Your trauma is spoken out of turn.

It creates an awkward boredom,

a table, where nothing is left to yearn.

What an icky, vulnerable feeling:

sticky fingers you must discern.

This closeness I will retire

if I can spare myself some hurt.

My stomach churns in loneliness,

but alone is where I get to exist,

in this persistent rawness

that keeps clawing out my closet.

5.28.26

I stare at the screen.

Digital dissociation

to soothe the unnerving.

Never turn off

the white flashing.

Melting into pixels:

thoughts vanishing.

My mind is a blur,

melding every second

into a week.

Turning every clock

back with a blink.

Pretending, pretending

this body is fueled

by gigabytes of code.

010101010,

dissolving numbers

without whispers

of reveries.

A glitching profile

without history.

A modern imprisoning,

a dying battery.

I stare

at a black screen.

My reflection

is disturbing.

8.2.26

There it is again—

a gavel slamming,

that voice with a message:

that I am the villain

who needs repentance.

That I deserve to be punished.

I will accept it now.

Take your knife,

while you twist it and smile.

At least the jury has no objections.

Metal around my spasming intestines.

You can punish me,

for all I neglected.

You can twist it,

for every aspect of me that needs

to be dissected.

You can gut me…

if the illusion of control

is some kind of protection.

You can spill my blood,

and then pretend to forget it,

to teach me a lesson.

You can kill me,

because every witness

is a testimonial omitted.

I need someone to blame.

You need someone to shame.

So there is someone to fix it.

And who is there to fix it

when there is no one to question?

Just me, always just me,

and another cross-examination.

I will be the villain,

but I know it will not free me.

Head in the guillotine:

a public demonstration.

Clemency was always irrelevant.

I will not forgive them.

I know mercy

is never admitted into the evidence.

11.12.25

I always try my hardest,

Cracking myself open on edges,

Standing over cliffs and suspecting,

I just might stumble and fall.

Hu—ha—hh…

I know that I should pay attention.

Rushing to destinations,

Missed deadlines and harsh expectations.

Hu—ha—hh…

I should know better by now.

Briskly attempting to make things right.

I am tripping in the gaps of the sidewalk,

Hu—ha—hh…

Breathlessly hoping no one saw.

How embarrassing!

Once again I have drawn the short straw.

Hu—ha—hh…

Gasping at the ringing in my ears.

Tears pricking as I hear them.

I fear they are laughing.

Ha—ha—ha…

They are watching me.

I am failing,

I am failing at it all.

Hopelessly surrounded,

I am hanging around.

They know I am drowning.

Who will help me now?

11.6.25

I am prepared

to be misunderstood.

I know you cannot

appreciate a flavor

that you hate to savor.

I have been exposed

to more knowledge

than I can erase.

Once you know

the bitterness,

it lingers

in a quiet place.

It sticks in the

ridges of your teeth,

and the esophagus

I am constantly mapping.

Collapsing into sludge,

I figured you would prefer

sugar in your cup.

Richness tempered by

an artificial sweetener.

You will tell me

I always had a kind,

vivid demeanor.

I sprinkle evenly,

dissolving complacently,

now you can imbue me safely.

Ingest the caffeine,

inhale the aroma,

and finally feel me stirring.

Steam curling

around your cheeks.

I was rushed:

an unpleasant sting,

burning your tongue.

5.27.26

A rat in the kitchen,

with the lights on.

A fly on the curtain,

its wing, splattering courage.

They told me

to be brave.

A stain on a white shirt.

Termites in the beams.

Black mold blooming,

no matter how often

you bleach.

They told me

I was inconvenient.

A roach on the sink.

They told me

I needed to be exterminated.

Salt spilled across the table.

They told me

it was just an unfortunate thing.

A hollow in the tree.

A bridge collapsing,

planks swallowed by decay.

They told me

I was a mistake.

They told me

I did not deserve to be seen.

Invisibility is a soft cage.

And I am decapitated,

with a snap.

A rodent

with a broken neck.

6.26.25

I miss you,

but that’s too soft to say.

I want you,

but vulnerability is a mistake.

I’ve felt this ache before,

always wanting more,

screaming at the shore.

Chasing a crashing wave,

biting back a fragile name.

I promised myself

to keep my feet on the ground.

So why am I looking up,

at the setting sun?

You want me to shine,

but do you know what’s inside?

I’m not sure I can kill my pride.

It runs past the horizon.

You press beneath my shell.

My heart wails,

a fractured sound.

I know how to filter it out.

So you get rage.

I burnt the page

with your name engraved

in the trenches of my pain,

at the frontline of my mind.

So why does it still whisper?

Just tell me you’re mine.

9.10.25

© 2025 heart-ship.