Sola ellipsis

What kind of fish can you sink into the bottom of the ocean with shoes made of cement or lead? What kind of fish is it illegal to tie up, gag and bash in the head? A thousand ways to die my love, but for you I can dream of a million more. Entrail ribbons laced around a pole, a whimper underneath your pillow as you lay on your back. That knot in your neck I could permanently crack.  You seem nervous my love, shall I push you to the cold floor or shall I squeeze and squeeze until to the touch you become colder than snow? Blue fingertips and blue toes A deep freezer is a good place to store my woes Brandish your face with the detailed outline of a butt of a gun, laughter escapes my chest as you struggle to run. Why are you not turning around? One pop Two pops Red roses on the ground Last pop Just so the incessant whimpering will stop You must like make-believe stories my love, because just the other night I tapped your forehead with a hammer. My beautiful unicorn. Singing your

I am a romantic and I am a writer. I could write a library's worth of love letters about a single glance from a passing stranger. Emotion, vulnerability, brokenness are the only things that truly move me. Some writers question your authenticity when all you create is based on feeling. Feeling low, feeling dejected, feeling hurt. But ask yourself, if your art has always been your therapy before you were brave enough to give voice to your fears and tears then who really is the  better writer? Does it even matter? I've been questioned/doubted for my writing style since I can remember. But if it is MY ART. Whatever it is, how do you doubt the validity of words coming from your chest as opposed to your mind? I'm not trying to sound "smart". I am merely trying to find healing through expressing pain in pages. You might think, "one trick pony". It's cool. I get it. But you can never assume to judge me because all I've ever related to is

Do you remember when voices from the past called me to your side Do you remember when both our heartbeats were the toughest to hide Do you remember when you called me a gift because to you time had never been too kind Do you remember when you said my stubbornness was my strength and not a weakness Do you remember the holes we patched over like a seasoned seamstress Do you remember when you touched me and it felt so good I couldn't imagine how I had existed with so much less Do you remember when we got home and all you wanted to see was my body underneath that dress Do you remember when you whispered love and chuckled like you were new to this Do you remember when our eyes met and it was as natural as coming up for a kiss Do you remember when you made me laugh until my belly was sore Do you remember when you promised you wanted to give me all that and more Do you remember when the cancer started to grow Do you remember when we started fighting and we didn't even know

They smear stains on my truest form Scotched fingerprints on every crevice of my brittle soul They fall like rain over any surface that defines the essence of my being Weak knees quake I don't ever breathe I break Save me Space encloses me in an asylum that houses stray thoughts They haphazardly attach to the cracks in my voice Sinking feeling I am barely living Save me Night terrors await from behind my door They take me everyday and I can't sleep anymore They nurse me against ghosts from the past They whisper "It will always be just you and us" Save me They drive me to drink On the verge of collapse I linger on the brink The weight of the world crushes my shoulders They throw bricks that hit me like boulders The ground seems to open up so I barrow below Time catches up and my heart beats slow Save me They drag at the seams of my clothing They stire the dust waking sleeping dogs that lie I suffocate cries under my pillow The fea