The fact of the matter is I'm tired. I'm absolutely and positively exhausted. Each day I wake and lay in bed to question if getting up is really that important, if I really need to attend that politics class.
You were tired too. You laid in bed for hours, days, weeks, and never thought maybe you should go to work. You weren't worried about the groceries that were dwindling in the fridge. All you wondered was if Rapunzel and her golden hair could heal you of your pain.
What makes me tired is that when you finally did rise up out of your bed, you walked out the door. I never saw you again. Funny, you woke up to leave me. I guess I should be proud in some sick, bittersweet way. Maybe I should applaud you for gathering all your strength to do what you actually wanted to do since I was a child. Blame me for the emptiness in your heart. I'm the one who showed up and disrupted your peace. Send me to sleep at night for me to wake to no one in the morning. Then I can lie in bed forever.
I'm also tired of hating you, of being so mad at you that my heart starts to boil inside me.
The fact of the matter is you hurt me. Sometimes I go to Rapunzel and ask for her golden hair but I can't bring myself to even look her in the eye. Because now I am you. The very essence of your cold and sad being has entered into my veins and I feel like giving up. Just like you.
Maybe one day I won't be tired anymore. Then, I can get up and leave all the ones I love. Yes, maybe one day I'll have children to run away from and break them at the core.
After all, isn't it every girls dream to be like mommy?
Maybe that is all we are
Modern day poets and writers
Amateur story tellers using different canvases
Lost souls trying to express themselves through ink
Broken hearts trying to cleanse themselves in blood
The stories are always made from the same elements, though
Pain, heartache, a little bit of hopelessness
Maybe a shred of light in the face of an abyss
And then it is all over.
the pain comes and goes. It is an ocean of emotions and it draws back, folding in on itself, and just when I think i am free of it, a tidal wave of torment smothers me and drags me beneath it's depths. I am suffocating beneath the waves of my self-torture, drowning amidst an ocean of others feeling the same, yet still somehow, terribly, terrifyingly, alone. The darkness almost swallows me and I cannot breathe, I cannot see, I can only move my arms frantically and hope I am swimming towards the surface. Surrounded by the debris that is my life as the tidal surge covers all i hold dear and drags it into open water. And just as I think that the crushing weight is leaving me and I am finally free of all life's misery, the ocean spits me onto its surface like I am a pebble it cannot swallow, but the relief only lasts a few brief minutes before the tsunami of guilt and terror flood the canals of my veins and scatter my bones throughout its abyss. Thus the process repeats and i succumb to the flood once more. all the while wishing it would just end. Wishing I could sink and become part of the sea bed, where I will gently move with the ebb and flow of the tide, rather than try to fight it and be overwhelmed with the force of its devastation. And in the words of a song that my water-filled lungs cry out to;
Do i sink, or swim, or simply disappear?
The first time I kissed you
My head spun.
It kept spinning all night.
I've never had to be careful about someone
But when you kiss me
I need to remind myself that
Is a thing.
I am getting better at remembering
That you are not all there is
But there is still this one moment
When you first lean in
And I realize
I have lost my sense of everything except you
And I pull myself back a little,
Not because I care what happens to me
But because I want to keep kissing you
And to do that
It's possible I'll need air.
Grasping my breath, over time
time, is so slow and I just want to
I just want to
I just want to
Looking into the screen, that are mirror images of us
Is she there? Is she looking for me? Is she real?
I could feel her thoughts, filled with passion and full of excitement
heart pounding, wanting and yearning to dig my nails
into her unbruised skin
wanting and knowing she would be at my feet in heart beat
whatever is damaged, I will heal
because we're all damaged in some way
It was told to me that maybe we're all alone for a reason
That there's something wrong
blood related family, it was us three
single hearts with drifting minds
Now I could say, that lonely person
and I just found
I've become so acquainted with my sociopathic thoughts
That I greet them like you would an old friend.
I've forgotten what it's like to think 'normal'
And when that strange happening occurs
I become worried.
"This is not you.
You are insane."
And some would prefer it be different,
But I wouldn't have it any other way.
Alright. Enough with the shitty writing. I need to get back on that horse, that mental state that allows me to write better because this thing we have here, in my head, it ain't working. (2013)
Times were simpler then.
You were my queen,
I was your king,
we treated each other
I saw your feminine-beauty
beneath your flowing sun dress,
succumbed to your magical-ways,
we played intimate under the moon.
There was never any fight,
you took me constantly
over the rainbow,
we bit lips in ecstasy.
But did you ever really know
how much I truly loved you?
I sit alone now watching the leaves fall,
still wondering about you,
how we used to play at night.
I can taste your smile
in the cold December wind,
it makes me warm,
takes my breath away!
And shivering I think
about the simplicity
of what we once had,
so long ago.