#22

you may not realise
but my soul has become a vessel
for collecting all the hurtful things you say.
the moment you say them, it absorbs.
it takes them in and there is no way out.

they multiply.
they expand in volume and in time.
they stay there, and they rot.
they become heavy.
they smell bad, and they make me nauseous.

i am cursed to remember every word.
every sob.
every scream.
every pause.

you may think you are hurting
because i am destroying myself,
but you have been destroying me
bit by bit,
word by word,
breath by breath

since the moment you thought you wanted to help me
but forgot to ask me, how.

The Dream

my dreams manifest in layers:
the central narrative – the Dream,
and then waking up
again –
and again,
until i reach the bottom.

it happens when the dreams
are wishes,
and it happens when the dreams
are fears.

i wake up in a dream
a thousand times
only to realize later
that i am still dreaming,
still not knowing
whether the main narrative
is true,
or yet another dream

of you.