I don't feel nothing. Tony Soprano Real

i hate myself

nobody was coming to save me

i have to remind myself to breathe sometimes…

There are no more barriers to cross

Why Are You Like This

As much as I may have pretended otherwise - Dexter Morgan

last therapy session (when the sun hits × tony soprano)

there are rooms within me
that no one ever enters.
not even I —
except in sleep,
when the locks loosen,
when memory forgets it should forget.

i walk their thresholds barefoot,
where the dust rises like breath
and the silence is not absence
but a sound too old to name.

here lie the versions of myself
i could never endure —
the frightened child,
the human who loved too little,
the one who watched the world burn
and called it weather.

i do not mourn them.
but neither do i let them go.
they linger in the wallpaper,
in the hum of static between thoughts,
like forgotten gods
waiting to be remembered
or forgiven.

each morning, i seal the doors again,
pretend the house is whole.
but some days —
on the cusp of waking —
i hear them moving,
quietly rearranging the furniture
of who i am.

forgotten gods

Come Down

Come Down

Rapsandriffs

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