Multiple personalities, one person

Photo by Vince Fleming on Unsplash

We looked into the mirror, the pieces of me.

Gazed into distinctiveness merging into nothingness.

They tell different stories, similar yet different in every way.

I’m naked peering at monsters I don’t recognize,

But it’s behind these beasts I hide.

I caressed each one of them, humming a prayer of gratitude.

I shook them up, where serotonin refuses to pass,

amalgamate them with so-called self-love.

I get startled by the brightness we have in conjunction,

I quickly fractionate again.



Towards my slow demise

Photo by Arisa Chattasa on Unsplash

The only death I’m living for is the one I’ll succumb to willingly.

The death that is checking up on me, slowly growing like ivy.

How to prepare for death?

Tear through it all,

The skin, the flesh, the blood.

Corrupt them with,

Misery, desolation, a victim narrative.

Do it every day until it becomes a practice,

until the only time you feel alive is when you have the urge to die.



A poem to my lover

Photo by Jeremy Thomas on Unsplash

I want to thread you through my mind’s eye,

paint your head on my silk pillow.

You are a masked poet,

your breath quick and shallow.

Let me eat through your vulnerability,

carve your name into my ribs.

You flush.

I shiver.

We twirl.

I dig myself into your sacrosanct shrine,

fuse our entities in one.

Enticing you with melodies,

lose myself in you, blissful surrender.

The Curve of my back where I hold all my secrets,

I’ll hold you till the sky turns scarlet.

I gape.

You soothe.

We smile.





A book enthusiast who keeps her daydreamer and overthinker personalities with ease by trying to put them into words.