#wordgaze

haunted by the idea of eternity—

trapped in a body,

not yet a corpse,

rotting.

fuel for a garden,

a perfect place to rot.

woven into roots,

forgotten beneath the dirt.

is my purpose to feed the earth?

am i to die slow

and call it meaning?

rotting,

until there is something to find.

when her parents found out,

they decided to reprimand her—

punish her

for being in pain.

it’s funny

how crystal clear our paths become

after something like that.

she feels so much,

but lets out so little.

and i still punish myself

for the weight of feeling.

a shudder at the idea of comfort—

like a little girl

locked in her bedroom.

sprinkle my dreams with the essence,

so i may dream of the one thing

i refuse to let myself feel.

let the illusion be real,

just for a night.

crash and destroy everything within

shatter the picture frames

demolish the walls

level the place i call home

bury me beneath the wreckage

destroy me with the foundation

messages i can’t open

a small wound i won’t clean

task after task

rituals of pretending

chore after chore

penance for sins i can’t name

staying busy, staying alive

as if movement wards off the rot

but there was a time.