these mornings are cold
soggy and blue,
i am the same as my dripping wet towel that sits on my chair in the sloppiest manner
we reek of raindrops even after being wrung many times

some nights are warm, red with desire
i rest my heavy head on my pillow and remember
moments that don’t belong to me
then, i dream of people who don’t belong to me

every week i whisper in the ears of my beloved:
from now on,
only kiss the nape of my neck
since i have made a promise with myself to never see you again
(since i know love once i am absent of it)

oh, i won’t stifle myself anymore!
large, plump seeds are growing inside of my chest,
blooming and taking up too much space in my crowded body
one by one, these senses of mine are growing tired and inept…
i know love once i am absent of it-
when the smell of it lingers and haunts me
in hollow silences i can hear ghosts who live in
empty homes, empty beds, and empty hearts

yes, i became a rootless nomad
who knows home once i am absent of it
i carry no weapons no possessions but four noble truths:

1. i can’t tell when i’m being myself
2. i want to be everyone i’ve ever loved
3. i’m afraid of loving because i’m afraid of hurting
4. even so, i practice them everyday

no, i won’t stifle myself anymore!
dissect my stomach and reveal all the words i have swallowed
indigestible; they take up too much space in my crowded body
these quiet eruptions are brewing from within,
slow cooker suicide

yes, i am so diluted
there is hardly a trace of me left in me
no, i can’t stifle myself anymore

i was merciless with my feelings,
now they are screaming and begging for liberation
ready to spill out by whatever means, no matter how ungraceful
in words, tears, blood, or vomit.