quiet

i am a dead bouquet of flowers. they fill my lungs and although they are lovely, i cannot breathe anymore. the petals crumble with every breath no matter what i do. i’ve learned to walk with shadows, the way others walk with light. the ones i walk with tell me things like they know my name. i try to breathe quietly "don’t find me where i hide" but they do. they always do. i’m loud in the places no one listens, i’m hurting where eyes don’t look. i’m the only one awake in this house. i still wish they’d ask you about me and i wish you would tell them you fucked up. you left, but i stayed broken. how do i follow a heart thats in pieces? because i carry it well doesn’t mean it’s not heavy, my hands don’t just shake when you look away. my secrets are a book i won’t read aloud but i want to. sometimes we need to cry or we will drown in our unwept tears. late at night like a tide that doesn’t obey the moon, memories stream through my eyes past my cheeks gathering on my lips because holding them in feels worse. they taste like the sea and the things i never said. but that sea is made of the poison my brain releases for me and now i wonder why i feel so sick.