you say the word toxic too often

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I see cigarette smoke in your hair,
the ashtray on your skin, 
there’s little room for breathing
I’m not sure how you do. 

Your hands tremble, too much, too often
It’s not the shivering when the sun sets, 
It’s not the same. 
You spend your coldest nights, numb. 

Some days are too much autumn, 
you seem like leaves falling off trees, 
who know they do not belong, 
who taste the uncertain too often 

your lips bleed a little, 
you cover your own eyes, 
I see you.
I wish I didn’t.

some days, I wish it were summer,
you wouldn’t try to hide the scars,
that you do not have.
you wouldn’t wish you did.

you hate the rain, 
you seem like it, 

you feel too much.
your eyes speak a billion stories,
but you never do.

you hold your heart.
you’re not sure what 
you want to do with it
you clutch it too tight
and then let go.

you wish you could colour yourself 
a different colour
so you don’t. 

your eyes always seem to be searching.
they stay still.  
your footsteps don’t, 
they quiver a lot.

you wish you could scream
what you whisper.
you go weak in your knees.

you fall a little, 
then a lot,
and pretend like you didn’t.

these days, 
you do not wipe your tears either.
they feel comfortable.

I see you when 2 hands
cover your mouth
you utter 6 letters in your head.

they can’t hear you. 
when the bruises become bluer
or the cuts run deeper. 

you don’t run, 
but your footsteps quiver, 
your hands tremble
and it’s not the cigarette smoke 
it’s not you either. 

you come close too often, 
you stay a little longer too
it doesn’t seem like you these days
I see you,
and I wish I didn’t. 

_my mirror is more me than I am. 

On “Your mirror writes a poem for you. What does it say?”


Today completes three years of In these three years, this place hasn't just been a blog for me, rather a safe place, an escape, a home. It has made me grow, write, dream, cry, laugh and be. It's a part of who I am today and I wouldn't trade it for the world. 

Thank you for reading! 
Hope you stay. 



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