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Unoxygenated

Collaboration with Mackenzie Davis - Part 1

By Poppy Published 3 years ago • Updated 3 years ago • 2 min read
Image Created on Midjourney

I stored my anger under the floorboards,

choosing to close my eyes. In darkness,

it grew like mildew, coating every surface,

filling the house with an inescapable stench.

❀

My head grew sick in thick, decaying air,

so I carved out my survival instincts

(the ones that screamed at me to run),

and buried them in a softened soil

beside my past mistakes.

❀

Their grave I marked with smiles,

and I turned to you, pleasant in my lies:

“I’m not fighting every urge

to arm myself and pack my bags. Resentment

is not a writhing and swelling disease

festering in the shadowed nest of me.”

❀

Our every interaction was a contest,

whoever blinks first loses, whoever is first

to shine a torch on the chasm of rot between us

is the weakest—

❀

And so we circled each other slowly, in steady

c r e s c e n d o

thoughts piercing holes

into padded walls and stuffed flooring,

blood realizations dripping onto white denial.

Our hearts becoming stained in the silence.

When I was too full, truth seeped from my pores

a poison to your lips. I could taste it, then.

❀

And no longer could I remain mute, amputated

from the soul I’d scattered and buried,

detached from happiness but still

feeling the phantom pain of it as a dull

rhythmic throbbing beneath my skin.

❀

Soon, my reflection showed a

ruthless absence of peace,

of acceptance, of…the word which

had eluded me for so long.

(Forgiveness)

❀

But the mirror told me to fashion armor,

a coat to cover my own shoulders and core,

to keep it repellant to the drowning power

of poisonous waters. I knew then, to dig up

❀

the graves of my past mistakes, rekindle

my under-Earth survival instincts, and find

the path to solace. I knew it was finally time

❀

to run.

(To blink first.)

❀

Healing can never pool

in the hands of those whose knuckles

are embedded in the skin of the heart.

My own heart felt the bruises,

craved an oil-skin pelt for shelter,

and set about its creation, one drop at a time.

And at the end of it all,

when I set about my journey,

I know those weapons I never begged you to drop

will find their way to me.

And perhaps I will shatter the mirror

take up my knives with a fluttering palm

and face you

our blood finally out for the world to deem red.

❀❀❀❀❀

Author's Note: I'm super stoked to have been able to do this colloboration with Mackenzie, who I consider one of my Vocal Besties. I'm a huge fan of all her work, especially her incredible poetry. Check out her masterpieces here.

Also, make sure to read Part 2 of our collaboration on her profile:

❀❀❀❀❀

Also have a read of my other collaboration with another of my Vocal Besties, the super talented Jazzy G:

fact or fictionheartbreaksad poetry

About the Creator

Poppy

poetry in progress

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    Written by Poppy