matins

i'm not scared of you anymore, or the blanks in my brain. i waited, and you never came, and that was the worst that could happen and now i've numbed.

you forced me into a nunnery of the psych and i can't say i'm ungrateful, spending my days on pressed flowers and knit gloves and heavenly verse, there's nothing worse than lies treated like gospel, and now i know what i can live through:

anything.

but still,

i would prefer to still be unaware of my own powers if i meant you still sometimes pushed the hair off my shoulders and whispered things someone else wrote but you meant more into my skin.