Being around you means learning to read again.

But instead of sounding out letters, I'm puzzling over the tilt of your head.

I'm watching the corners of your mouth.

I'm trying to understand the word scribbled in the shape of your brows.

Why is it so hard to understand the meaning behind the slope of your shoulders?

Can you explain why your laugh seems to rhyme with when you cry?

What kind of vowels are your hands making?

Are those signals in your tone platonic, phonetic, or romantic?

Please write your body language in CAPITALS, because I keep skipping over the consonants and silent E's in your gaze.

I'm tired of sharing:

My reflection

my smile

my eyes

my nose

my dimples.

They're not mine though. Are they?

Your dimples

your nose

your eyes

your smile

your reflection.

No matter how far away I try to run,

Our shadow is sewn to my feet.

i haven't seen you in a year.

it's a relief.

it should be a relief.

instead it's a dread.

i'm not stupid. i know

you'll be back.

sometimes when i lie awake

at night

i feel your approach

fading away just before

you arrive.

i breathe a sigh of relief

and fall asleep.

i push you from my mind

because i have to.

i cannot think about you.

don't think about it.

don't think about it.

don't talk about it.

don't write about it.

but here i am. writing it.

thinking it. maybe you

were right.

maybe i did want it.

maybe i even

needed it.

i haven't forgotten.

my days are spent

not with sighs of relief

or the cherishing of each night

that i go without—

but instead with the fear

of the night you'll return.

because i know you will.

maybe once upon a time,

i thought you went away,

but i've given up on

kidding myself.

you are, after all,

a part of me.

isn't that what

my first psychiatrist said?

you are the rot in my gut that i

try to starve out of me;

you are the intrusive thoughts

that make me believe i am a monster;

you are the distorted disgusting image

of my bare body that i spend my life

trying to cover up.

you are the hatred that i

cannot beat out of myself.

i'm always externalizing my flaws.

building people in my head to blame

when i fuck up.

you are the shame.

so many people told me

i had no reason to be broken.

so i invented you

to break me.

and it worked.

which is why i know you'll

be back.

because shame doesn't die.

it can't be killed.

it can only be stalled, delayed,

pushed away towards some

abstract future date

that i know is fast approaching.

you're coming.

i'd like to say i'm ready for it.

i'm prepared, or at least i'll

have time to prepare, to guard my throat

against the acid reflux, to

build up my mental defenses and stand up

to you again.

but i'm never prepared.

that's the funny thing about shame.

it creeps up. subtle.

you are the space in my brain that i define

by what's around it, the life, the love

that you displace. because i cannot

face it head on.

i have to stay on the outskirts,

fencing off the pitfalls

in my brain, tunnels in the amygdala,

rivers in the frontal lobe

that will lead me straight to you.

you're the part of me

that i cannot admit is mine.

and until i can,

we'll be stuck in this endless dance

of torment.

you: my flaws, my shame.

and me: forever looking for

excuses.

The moments lost, and passed

They won't return, they never come back

Love blooms like flowers, however

When Autumn wilts a flower

It won't bloom again

In Spring, sunshine, or rain

So, when you and I, and no longer us

What use is a million others?

Can't repent when the die is cast

They won't return, they never come back

Eyes can deceive us

How can we trust?

Doubt can break us apart

Never let it rule your heart

Ones you'll miss forever hence

Hold them ere they drift afar.

You can make excuses; apologize till it lasts

They won't return, they never come back

The moments lost, and passed

They won't return, they never come back

Mavia sent in number 56, which features two writers and her signature sound.

Stay awhile, have a drink...

Here's the link to the show.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rk0jDiU7WBw

And we'll link the authors below in the comments.

And.

As always.

Thank you for being here.

-The Prose. team

Blinded

amid all creation

{the nonstop}

Cyclopsed

with finger

stuck

Octopi

everywhere

even,

in the third eye

*

For all attention

of detail-ed minutiae

Two feet in front

of us, the fog

**

It's not that I want

to tell the Future

something

or grab

the illustrious

knees

of God

I just wish

to see the lights

and fireflies

Not streaming

tears,

exploding

in the yard

***

Stranger danger

fades somewhat

when one

canst

look a looker

in the eye,

but maybe

that is why

it is wisdom

in this blind

strength

and sweat

having

a hand in

kerchief tied

****

I wipe our glasses,

press my lids,

like Aldous Huxley

and sigh

i swam in your dilapidated structure,

crossed your eyes

and nailed you "fallen" to the boards -

all to breathe again.

i clenched my chest

to hold my heart tightly closed

because

you are not my suicide.

#poetry

#geekslutnetdgirl

#loveless

something hiding in the rainclouds: light /

pockets inside out and i'm staring at ten fingers,

extended towards the ceiling

(they're yours)

and somehow we ended up with our legs intertwined

(you've been on my mind)

and i'm thinking about the way you planted kisses on my nose

(how did i end up here?)

when we stood at the window and watched the rain

i didn't know

the world's expanding; i think

i'm afraid of the snap back to order

but i like when you touch our fingertips together

and i like your hand on the small of my back

and i can't see at all but it's right, i think

there's so much more i need to say

but

words get in the way, right?

so i'll put them some place you'll never see them:

here

or the back of my mind, coloring book pages with scribbling words

and fairy hearts and stick-on stars

all to remember the way you look at me sometimes

im not sure what to write

i know what people like

but this week has felt as though

i might not survive

i left home

made people mad

but i feel hopeful

is that really bad

or should i feel terrible

like a dad whose gone to get ciggarettes?

i dont though

my love and well wishes go out to them

but all that theyve done to me

should i really pretend

that im not the slighest bit angry

that they didnt ask where i was last night

or should i accept that all we do is fight

and i could never be enough

so why should i try

when my opinion is the only one

that even matters in the meantime

no matter if you meant to hurt someone

it matters that their hurt

and ego is the evil

that continues to lerk

through you and her and him and her

once again it doesnt matter

if you meant for me to hurt

because i did

for too long

i dont owe you a thing

just leave me alone

please

just for the time being.

In the cluttered corners of my mind,

Where shadows dance, and thoughts unwind,

A symphony of whispers, dark and deep,

Intrusive thoughts, their secrets keep.

Unwelcome guests, they linger near,

The tempest of anxiety, sparking fear.

Like ghosts, they haunt, with mangled glee,

Intruding on my only sanctuary.

A canvas painted with the hues of doubt,

Intrusive thoughts, they twist and shout.

A storm within, a relentless tide,

They whisper, taunt, and try to hide.

I wrestle with these shadows cast,

In the theater of my mind, they're vast.

Unwelcome guests, they dance and play,

Distorting truths in the light of day.

But I'll rise above this tempest's roar,

Find the strength to close the door.

For in the heart of the darkest night,

I'll reclaim my thoughts, bring back the light.

Intrusive whispers, I'll defy,

With resilience and a steadfast eye.

A poem penned to set me free,

From the chains of intrusive thoughts, let me be.