To live is to consume

To consume is to destroy.

To love is to use.

Now you are a shell of what you were.

Consumed. Destroyed.

For my sake.

But how could I not love?

An inch is 2.54 centimeters.
With you I was 2.54 times what I was when alone.

I'd call us covalent if you'd let me.
We took from each other to become stronger.

However unlike the atoms we studied,
We became more solid when further apart.

Once we sat on a call multiplying instead of dividing for hours.
I vowed to never do it again.

Maybe that's when the bond broke.

They call it a physical science,
But all I felt was emotional.

I gave up on equilibrium.
We had chemistry together, and then we didn't.

The warmth goes beyond where I expect it.
Swiftly down my throat it sticks in my chest, unfamiliar.
I'm reminded that I'm alive.

The spice sticks in my mouth, stronger than before.
It feels intentional now, more enjoyable than last time.
I'm reminded that growth is possible.

There's a sweetness at the end...
I thought it had disappeared completely, a pleasant surprise.
I've learned that nothing is lost forever.

Hey! Someone offered me a cherry lime seltzer.
But all I could think of was how much you loved strawberry kiwi.
I said no to it… but I can't remember why I don't like it
Does it taste bad or does it remind me of you?

Oh! And we talked about daisies today in lecture, but I couldn't pay attention.
I didn't realize why until I walked past the wildflower patch on my way home.
It was you.
They were your favorite flower.

I couldn't tell if I was more upset I didn't have you,
Or that in the moment I couldn’t remember your essence.

The warmth of my insides,
Comforting as they come out

Self-torture for failed life
Or is it trying to get me to rest?

Eyes glazed over, head spinning
Thrashing, pausing as I feel something in my throat

Retching up red
A little extra anxiety for trying to help myself

Clutching the blankets with my dripping hands,
Pinned to my bed, hoping sleep will take me from the pain of my biology.

A monthly hibernation
No preparation, no energy reserve

You never planned for me,
So now I'm stuck as you.

Pleasing your visions of what could be,
Striving for the happiness you sought.

I appease your ghost,
Hoping you can pass on.

Perhaps it's not in the same time frame,
And I'm retroactively, desperately trying to force you to see further.

That spent energy has made me a shell,
It's like I don't exist, just as you figured.

I'm clawing for relevancy in my time,
But I need to help you heal.

I feel the threads that link our existence pulled taut.
Stitched into my skin, every step hurts.
Ignoring the tension I continue to move forward.
My skin can’t handle much more.
There are drips down my back,
The sound of the threads wanting to snap.

I turn.

Now that I look it’s no longer threads.
So filled with connection they have combined to form rope.
I know what I must do.

I wonder if he feels the tremble in my hand as I position the scissors.
If not that, then the unfamiliar rhythm of my shaky breath before the connection is cut?
Or maybe the softness of my tears as they fall… I wasn’t prepared.

It snaps.

Paralyzed in the moment after, my eyes dart around the space.
Landing on nothing but familiar shadows.
They’ve all done it already without me.

I take a step back, finally there is no pull.
Turning from him to look at myself, does freedom look good on me?
Something’s wrong, it’s not done yet.

Oh no.

The horror when I find the curves of my body, my being, are sculpted by his hands
He patched over my cracks, oriented me to my place today
What can the scissors do for this?

My existence is comforted by, solidified in his influence
My annihilation without him is certain
My denial of him is a denial of reality

Please help.

Behind myself I feel the room collapse
I close my eyes, making peace with the nothingness that will be ahead
If the past is gone, then there is no path to what comes next.

I prepare to become nonexistence incarnate.
Do I omit him from my story or come up with something new?
Lying is traitorous when part of me is thankful.
I freeze.

I was thankful.
He belongs in oblivion, and now I am forced there.
Does this mean we’re tied again by this liminality?


Back at square one I need comfort to keep me sane, I can’t do it again.
He was my comfort, how do you begin to move on?
I dream of tying the threads back together.

Stop me.

Others say they fight their demons…
I don’t think my demons are the same species as theirs.

Delve into understanding creatures from hell
Hoping I can figure out what plagues me, let’s begin.

Nothing clings to me invisibly weighing down on my shoulders..
Nor am I plagued by visions of my worst moments.

Are these not demons then?
What tugs at the back of my mind, needing to be heard?

Am I too holy to be tormented?
But I feel their familiar claws, just not as deep.

Am I too cursed, too boring, too weak?
They're there... they know my darkness, but it is no fight.

How can I know them, but not fight them?
I certainly haven't given up or in.

Fine, this was a useless endeavor.
I know exactly what I’ve done, but it isn’t working as I’d hoped.

I summon another's demons, hoping they can taunt and tease.
I've learned there is no fight there for me.

I cling to them for dear life, my nails in their bony figure
Theirs sink in my flesh.

They aren't here for me anymore, I'll concede,
They pull at who I once was.

Eyes wide, my hands shake for familiarity
I absentmindedly read their receipts of the torture, hoping to feel how she felt.

They give that comfort, but never enough.
Never a fight.

Knowing them now, I feel horrible for her fight.
I can't let them rest, I scream and cry for them to fuel me now.
Getting better has made me lack her passion.

New joys fade too fast
But I can't elicit the exact flavor of sorrow on my own

Still I pull the demons from the tomes I once sealed them in.
They do no damage, I am no longer their target.

I am not fighting my demons.
No, I am not fighting any demons.

If I am not holy, cursed, boring or weak
It leaves me searching for a reason I am ostracized even in haunting.

My mind spins, trying to pull forth new punishment.
Am I not worthy to have the human plight of a supernatural fight?

Perhaps this is what mine is...
Fighting nothing so I cannot profit from the dark or pull new hope.

Insane, I fill the void with another's demons to finally, hopefully drown me.
Is this their plan? So I won't fight when mine finally show up?

But for now, grasping for a grapple with entities I can now summon but not control, who have no business with me has gotten me here.
Maybe I don't need a fight to continue.

He commands a room,
All eyes turn to him in times of need
Silently, he excels without complaint

He leads his champions with ease
Feared or loved is no question for him
He brings them together to become more

His knowledge puts others' to shame
Constantly expanding through curiosity
A world wonder worth protecting

He cares immensely, intensely
Miracles happen within moments at his touch
Asking for nothing in return

He is impressive and I pray to a God I doubt exists that I am lucky enough to live in his time.
To have gotten so close that I can witness his divinity.

He stuns me with his radiance and as I blink away the brightness I prophesize

Him commanding my rooms,
leading my champions,
making my knowledge shameful.
Proving my caring to be apathy.

The devil sneaks in as I experience him.
At my most vulnerable in his light I worry I'll be washed out.

When I'm back to my senses, I am in his arms.
No ideas from the serpent escape from my mouth.
Yet his comfort knows what I need.

In our most intimate moments, he gives his power to me.
All he is, transferred to me
He thinks I am worth it
He raises me to divinity for his pleasure

He allows me to be his and I am unsure how I could ever repay that