disappearI taught her how to grow a backbone—How to fight the battles that mattered mostHow to say no and goodbye—I taught her how to leave without being noticed—How to fade away day by dayHow to merely cease—&& she used this knowledge against me.
My Own Burden To BearThis feeling in my chestThis shortness of breathIf I didn’t know any better I would say this is a heart attackBut if it were, I would be long dead by now, wouldn’t I?No…I think this is just the pain of a constantly shattering heart.
Keep Holding OnNo matter how badly we wishSometimes we've nothing left to say.
I Find MyselfI find myself reading between the linesAll too oftenWhen there’s actually nothing there to read.
My Dear, You Are My LightLight-It illuminates the darkness that is trying to nuzzle against my templesThat is trying to take me down and keep me underTo a place that I do not want to be&&-Somewhere along the way I began to realizeThat I could not swim up from the dark depths of the ocean and survive on my ownSo I reached out and took a hold of a hand that had been patiently waiting for me all along.
i breatheBreaths too shallow for deep lungs.
Simple LoveHe made a little nest in my heart whether he knows it or not.
FaithWhy are people so hell-bent onMaking me lose faith in the human race?
Let Me Be LostI’m crawling on bloodied handsAnd kneesMy face isCradled in your rocking hands- back and forth, back and forthAnd I try to make a move- towards youMy face isThrust against the dirt-with a painful inhale I’ll have plants growing in my lungsAnd I try not to breathe outI’m sinking into an ocean of redAnd yellowMy face isFloating upon the surface-but hands reach the bottomAnd I try to make a move-down, downMy face isThrust under the salt- with a painful inhale I’ll have whales swimming in my stomachAnd I try not to smile
the tattoo artist.she finds gems hidden underneath my skin andrips them out with her teeth, the soresalong my arms swelling with pride and red; neverhas she wondered if the pain would make megrit my teeth into powder—no, she knowsi take it like a man takes steak:raw and tough and bloody, like my fingersafter picking scabs to let some fresh air in; herwords are etched on the point of a needle, and sheis a tattoo artist drilling ink into my body, her linesthick with moxie: "alive" splayed out acrossmy wrist, "awake" above my heart—she paintsa vision on my eyelids of an endless sky andtells me it doesn't belong to me, but that ican have it; perhaps foolishly,i believe her every word
Tragedy"A tragedy...." They whisper. I survived.
I'll Give You A Daisy A DayHe plays her favorite songs on a tiny cd player and struggles not to cry.
Instant NoodlesDear Grandmaw,I wish I had told you before you went how your husband is now eating instant ramen. I remember when we came to visit you two at your house during the summer you would always have little bags of instant ramen for my sister and I to eat. You never ate it though, claimed you tried once “Nasty stuff...right there kid, some nasty stuff” and we would all grin and laugh at the way you said it. Your husband took after you and claimed it was “horrible stuff, noooo I don’t want it”. That was so many years ago though and now I can get him to eat half a cup of noodles with me for lunch or dinner. It just makes me smile a bit, you know? I hope you’re able to look down upon us and smile at what you see.All my love to you,Your grandkid,Catherine.
Paper-Thin Promisesthe first time I caught sight of yourglistening, marble eyes,I decided you disgust me.I hate you the way I hate perfection:merciless, like the snap of mantis jaws.every fact of you is pretentious,held high like you raise a middle finger.You, the artist, always sculpting things,tried to squeeze my malleable heart like white clayand stash it in your pocket to rattle with stones.paint me an unflinching self portrait, my dear:this skyscraper of a boy shaking with anticipationto build and destroy, build and destroy.you sink in tooth and talon at first mention of beauty,love-biting Aphrodite as though you were equals.you're a statue, a prison,a tasteless reproduction of a child's Heavenbut you are no museum.you may hang yourself in gilded frames,forcing masses to silence with obscurity,but that does not make you a hallowed hall.no, I fear you're no Metropolitan.you look at me, daring to think you understand.your words trickle from my lips like a waterfallas you tell m
CapriciousWords have becometasteless to me,I'm afraid—like rotten applesfit for the worms.Quite frankly,it feels asthough I amdancing withoutglass slippers;pirouetting my way througha ballroom full oftongues made for poetry.Where's awicked witch whenyou need one?All I seem to do isdream while I'm awake and,if we're being honest,I was never much of an alluring talein the first place.
ocean lungsyou weigh something like gravityin my tired expanse. you aresand;(my once splendid mountain)my love is the oceanthat has worn you down.with my monstrous tongue,i pulled you in.as you fall,sweeping peacefully into the depthsand filling each crevice,i am learning to inhale shores.some would say i'm suffocatingand bring me buckets of air (only to have itescape my slippery grip).no, the tides need something heavyto make of hera home.
Anything OtherI can always expectAnything other than happinessA cry in the night is what I hearTo be shown the light is what I fearWhy should I Scream or cry?Ive left everything behindA sound comes from my soulThat cries for me insteadThat way a single tear has never been shedCant I always expect the same?I'm to afraid to changeI believe there is no more hopeleft for meSo I left my heart out at seaSent it away,didn't need it any moreIt just seemed like some useless choreHave Faith!They scream at meLike I'd ever dare to dreamMy brain has dried of imaginationLeaving me with no sensationI wont cry,I know I'm fineSo I humbly declineAll the pity everyone givesCause its to much trouble just to live
for those who want to be in loveyou want to fall in lovehard enough to break your bones andlighten your feetlighten your heartso softly that the butterflies you feelpattering with their gossamer wingsbeneath the cage of your ribscan escape;and the breath,blue in the summer,can kiss you and the monarchsas sweetly as your loveand her lips.you dream of them at night.silken like clean bedsheets,familiar as your favourite chairwhen you curl up witha mug of herbal tea.you feel at homewith her body curled in yours,only able to sleepwith her skin under your fingersscenting the blanketswith something no perfumecould ever mirror.you write love lettersin biologylove poemsin economicsyou dream emptilyunless she is there.you want to fall in lovethe way the gods drink ambrosia,you want to treat herbetter than their nectar,sweeter than honeybeesand their summer-sticky feet.you want a love beyond poetry,from winter flurriesto springtime rosebudsto summer sweet lemonadeto autumnal red leaves u
ForgettableForgettable I’m tempted to change my whole mentality,To make sure you’ll never be able to forget me,‘Cause the Devil wishes to be remembered through evil, And it seems to me being good to folks is just forgettable.
i.i heard you howlingat two a.m. in the bathroom,the rain drowning outyour dreams.i heard you tearing atthe hollow of your throat.you'd think that no one else would beas sly as you to knowyou aren't really what you say,you're not okay--you're not okay.you named her anne afterthe mother that never raised you.called her your baby,but never once did shepress her tongue against her teeth.i saw the song lyricsscrawled on the back of your handwhen you were sound asleep,fist in stomach.she's got bruises on her neckthat match up with yours.she's got fingers like your daddy;about that one i'm sure.i read the words that hungon the top of your lips.i read the in betweensthe unders and oversand the everything i could.you took her in thebathroom with you last night,and i don't remember ifit was howling that i heard,or illicit-sounding screaming.she's not what you want her to be.she's not--she's not.and i read in the papersyesterday or the day beforeabout a girl
Bone TiredScars scribbled on the very frame of your existence tell stories- the flesh you wear like precious lace on your bones is another exquisite gift of pure porcelain and other cliches you don't have time for -written in its careful questionssuch worthy, weary skin rest, it begs sleep and let the night take me where I never was before with centuries whispered into your being you crave only the warmth of the forbidding sun.
I Belong To You I hate rain. Not really, I love it. Just not when the most beautiful, perfect, wonderful, perfect, comfortable, waterproof, perfect coat in existence has been savagely butchered by my so-called friend’s Dalmatian. Every slap of rain on my naked arms is a stinging reminder of the irreparable hole in my wardrobe. Some people might try to fill the void with lesser coats but I can’t bring myself to betray Valentino, even after her death. Instead my slippery arms grapple with each other in wet shock as I stumble to the op shop, clinging to one last thread of hope. I know in my deadened heart that I’ll never have another coat like her. Yet here I am, blundering through the elements in my vain search for the acceptance and warmth I found wrapped in Valentino’s woollen sleeves. Thud. My body slams into the door, making the ‘open’ sign quiver and the bells tinkle in offense. I fight for entry, the door’s assault doubled by the stale funk of
wishbones and flowers I think it’s selfish how I have compared every other kiss to yours. ( After all- good things don’t invite themselves into the lives of little girls who categorize their disorders by the scars on their wrists and who allow strangers to hang them from their necks like wishbones. ) But, no one’s hands have ever staked claim to this scavenged wasteland like yours- not even my own. And it’s hard to forget that; please forgive me. As you will always be the one who taught me that it’s okay to be sad.
Tired of being sad.Real men don't cry, they sayWell maybe their right butI'm stuck with dry eyesAnd maybe I'm not right for herShe still sits brokenheartedAnd I'm all out of triesBut your lifeis worth the priceof me losing my mindSo if you startto see me smileIts not a signthat I'm over youI see you running through my dreams again(Happens every night now)I toss and turn at what we could have been(I'd stop if I knew how)It just strikes a nerve, the thought of you out with another manHolding his handAnd you may ask me what I smile forMaybe you think I'm happierWith you gone.I'm not smiling 'cause I'm happy, noI'm smiling 'cause I'm tired of being sad.The moment you left my armsWas the moment I couldn't takeI felt every single partof my heart start to breakNo one else could make me wholeBut you're a thousand miles awayAnd though i feel like my minds givingI'm taking the breaths to stayCause I know we're good for somethingWe just haven't made it yetBut we'll feel itI see yo
six words concerning self-esteema declawed cat can still bite
Broken PromisesYou broke a promiseand left me with the shards-the leftover pieces of what was-they cut meand left scarsupon me, scarsand in the aftermaththe leftover pieces of what wascan't be put backtogether againthere's no gluepermanent or strong enoughto repair this messand all becauseyou broke a promiseand left me with the shards.
AlwaysI will love even if you cannot.