Unoxygenated
Collaboration with Mackenzie Davis - Part 1

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:
About the Creator
Poppy
poetry in progress
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