You Might Feel Free, But I Don’t

I tried to burn every trace of you

Thought I’d be overcome with a sense of relief

But I’m still caged in

A captive to you even when you’re not around

Your name’s been scortched into my lungs for as long as I can recall

I hear them calling out for you in the night 

Your fingerprints are tattooed across my skin 

I can feel it peeling off of me, crawling towards you

And your spit is stuck in the back of my throat

I can taste you anytime I cough

I’d be willing to set myself on fire

If it meant you’d go down in flames too


How Can You Drown If You Know How To Swim?

I was eight year old when I first wrapped my hands around my own neck, praying for a loss of air, a loss of self.
I was fourteen years old when I first swallowed a handful of pills and fell asleep believing I’d never again see the light of day. 
I was seventeen years old when I first learned the taste of rubbing alcohol wasn’t as sweet as vodka, and it wouldn’t kill me, it wouldn’t even kill the pain. 
Now I am twenty one years old, a slave to my own demons.. But they have yet to find a way to kill me. I wonder if they will ever.