Tired

Spaces

| Rochelle Tasca

I’ve been drinking lately, but I’m alright with that.

An idea;

to surround myself with these demons so they can taste my heart in your place.

They fill a void in my lungs;

just deep enough, for the night to cradle my head back to sleep.

These lucid dreams, entice these beasts

while they stroke my cheeks and whisper;

” Let us taste you. “

.

” Trace those lies,

with our tongues against your thighs,

for us to feel and divide.

Let us love you in their place,

to guide your fingertips between the space.

.

‘In between the sheets,

Your skin belongs to us.

Those tears and fears that

dictate

use

and abuse you,

offer no greater flavor

to our sensibilities.

.

” Our Dear,

this is what our love can teach you. “

.

” Let alone those marks, Love. “

‘ You’ve been drinking lately,

so let us carry you to those parts of hatred,

where your tears collide with the bottom of our glass. ‘

The Quiet

| Rochelle Tasca

The worst feelings come at day break,

when I wake to ice filling in my stomach.

Throughout the day,

I feel ugly and aged, swept by overwhelming tears

that come to me in waves.

When the evening comes again,

I move with anxious haste

to silence this loneliness

that stir within my wrists.

This heartache proves to be more powerful,

and I feel it all;

this void in my chest,

telling me I deserve this.