Before the After Effect
by Ariele

I am a whisper, a cold glance when you turn your back;

And it is so hard not to crawl into old ways, old addiction, broken
scrawled & memories sprawled like leftover ideas; I wrote the
chapters, over & over, night after night, my head in a spin, verbiage
surfacing only at the highest of heights.

There is something about the way you opened me, up & up & up, a fever
rising in below zero temperature—black on white, white on white, white
on black, it didn't make a damned bit of difference as long as I saw
stars for hours, for days, a realm of washed out colour, washed out
light; washed my eyes out with soap & for ten seconds, it always felt
good. Just like you always felt so good for ten hours, before the
after effect, before the writhing beneath my skin, before the tears &
the shame & the fuck you for making me feel things I never want to

(and for making me feel things I never want to remember.)