Regretfully, Yours Truly

A Return to Personhood

Right now, I’m sitting in the devil’s energy.

Controlling.
Compulsive.

I’ve been here for months,
so overwhelmed, trying to hold onto everything all at once—
my past,
my future,
my logic,
my emotions.

It’s why I’m up,
at 2 a.m.,
at 3 a.m.,
four.

Because I just can’t stop writing about what’s dying.

It’s a rebirth.
I can feel it.

All that grief that’s still active—
it’s why I’m so obsessive.

This is where I finally feel movement,
in between the stanzas and the vowels.
This is where I dance.
This is where the energy feels less stagnant,
more in my control.

This isn’t just writing.
It’s fulfillment.
It’s release.
A high.

And it will not let me rest.
It’s like every word inspires something new,
and I need to get it out quickly before I forget it all in its entirety.

Before I forget that I’m worth something.
Before I forget that I’m remembering a lost side of myself.

The quiet girl—
she sings in her room
and writes poetry in the dark.

Not everything needs to be abandoned;
some things just need to be re-found.

Pray for me, please—

that I get all the thoughts out
so I can finally
just
shut
the
fuck
up.

⸻

Venus’s Retrograde

She’s coming to kill me.
And she’s closer than ever.

To be honest, I’m scared.

She tells me I don’t know what it feels like to just be powerful
without clinging to something.
The fear.
The pain.
The childhood.

She says the struggle is part of my identity,
that she’s coming to cut it out.
She says she’s here to teach me trust—
that my death brings about the messiah.

She is someone I abandoned.
She’s coming back to be re-found.

And she’s very different from me.
She’s even stepping into the parts of herself she used to be ashamed of.
She doesn’t play small.
She knows that there are things bigger than herself,
and yet she reaches for them all on her own.
She’s lost everything she thought she needed,
and
she
just
doesn’t
care.

To be honest, I respect her.

I’ll be long gone by the time you’re able to identify her.

If you ever catch her,
if you ever get the opportunity to talk to her—
say hello for me, please.
Tell her I love her.

She’s sitting in the devil’s energy now.
Unapologetic.
Unfiltered.
Raw.

Is this what it feels like to not recognize yourself?

⸻