it is only dreams,
unholy trespass.
i reach out,
waiting for him,
incomplete, incomprehensible,
ungraspable.
unstoppable force,
immovable object.
everything is intense,
more than i would like it to be
and now i don't think i can get
to joy again
without him being on the frontlines
of the battle in my head.
i learned to stop breathing.
i faint towards him.
he, an unwelcome parasite,
a disruption to my mental ecosystem.
he is the sour aftertaste
of love gone rotten.
i ask him if i can leave
correction:
i pray that he lets me leave
he kicks me out
he crumbles
he breaks
i pray.
i don't believe in a god,
yet i pray,
holy trespass.
today i feel him.
Grayson Buckley is a freshman at NAU. They are majoring in English Creative Writing, with a minor in Art History. They love poetry, painting, writing songs, and just enjoying the world. They hope to one day be a published author.
"The inspiration behind "handprints" was the feeling of not being able to separate yourself from someone toxic from you, even if you know how toxic they are. It was a combination of several poem fragments, all on the same topic, then combined into one coherent poem."
graphic by @fakiewilly
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