Pride

I waste my days away dreaming of voicing the words

deflecting comments and navigating side eyes

like a maze of flesh and dirt

slow dancing in a minefield

opening my mouth to drink destruction

every single day

it’s the price I have to pay

for staying sober in the chaos

this chaos

is a push and pull

of the many broken pieces of my soul

with demons diabolically dancing

roasting the bits in their roaring flames

my mind is burnt to a crisp

from all the things I want to scream and say

instead I gingerly touch

the rotting, aching flesh

underneath the mask that I am wearing

it’s been glued to my face

for eighteen cruel years

— Angel Ianira Myako