I'll have to forget me to know where I've gone,
And take myself back to find my way home.
You will let me go, or I'll never return.
I'll have to forget me to know where I've gone.
"You really loved him,
Didn't you?"
My perfectly pink lips quiver
As hot tears brim my eyes.
I nod my head yes;
Of course I did.
But I loved him much more
Than just a nod.
He was a deep breath
Of fresh air,
A shooting star
Across a jet black sky,
The split second silence
Under a highway bridge
In the pouring rain.
But I could only nod.
"Smile, darling.
You have so much ahead of you."
But once again, I could
Muster only a nod.
A disbelieving nod,
But a nod just the same.
And I just wanna tell you,
You forgave and I won't forget.
Some day, you will go away from this.
So glide away on soapy heels,
And promise not to promise anymore.
You've gotta be kind to yourself.
Now my only chance to talk to you
Is through my prayers;
I only wanted to tell you I care.
But I am blind,
I cannot find the heart I gave to you.
It's been a few weeks since it rained,
and even longer since I've let myself go.
But I'll always remember the day I did.
It was the last day of sophomore year,
and we were itching for a little fun.
You and I went out for a celebratory drive,
belting old Taylor Swift songs
at the top of our lungs,
and not giving a damn
what anyone else thought.
All of a sudden, a storm hit
and you pulled the Volkswagen over
with a twinkle in your eyes.
You pulled me out of the car,
and we danced in the middle of the road.
Within seconds, I was soaked
through my dress, through my bra,
sending raindrops coupled with chills
all the way down my spine.
The rain stopped as soon as it started,
but I'll never forget that day.
The wind catches the sails
and lifts up my arms
to praise a god
I don't believe in.
Tonight, I'm gonna do it.
I'm gonna call you.
Tonight, I'm gonna tell you why I never wear my hair
In a ponytail anymore, no matter how hot it gets.
I'm gonna tell you about the time you grabbed my hot tea
And threw it in my face.
I'm gonna tell you that, these days, I don't bother with
Makeup anymore , and though I (somehow) get complements
I'll never quite believe them.
I'm gonna tell you about the time you made my mom cry
And how much she feared you after that.
I'm gonna tell you what it's like to be
The only one...
To be in constant fear, yet forbidden to tell another soul
All at the same time.
You're gonna tell me why you kissed my boyfriend
And lied,
So I'll finally understand.
I gonna tell you about all the things I wish I was
And the things I strive to be
(All 89 of them).
I'm gonna tell you why I had to leave.
I'm gonna finally tell you that not only did you suppress my appetite and worth,
But also my passion.
And that was the worst of them all.
I'm gonna tell you about each and every pound I am
Away from perfect.
I'm gonna tell you about the time I almost gave in,
And finally,
About the day I told the truth. . .
And you're gonna listen.
When I refused to integrate wretched
"Four letter words" into my vocabulary,
I noticed that Love herself is a "four letter word",
And the dirtiest of them all.
My two worlds collide
On an almost daily basis.
The world inside my head,
And, well, you.
It's like, you're what I wanted...
Or what I thought I did.
But now that I have you,
I'm second guessing
You.
Me.
Everything.
You pick me up
On Friday nights,
Kiss my forehead, and tell me
Just how beautiful I look.
But...it's not how I pictured it.
It's not like the movies.
I don't get those butterflies...
I get an overwhelming feeling
Of numbness and
Apathy.
My head is filled with little voices
Consciences, perhaps, of different backgrounds
And motives,
Each putting in her own
"Wisdom" on the matter.
They ask if I have told you,
But it's just not my truth to tell.
As I peer through distant memories,
One day sticks out in my mind--
The day my mom handed me a big black bag
And said go make something pretty
Back then, that was all it took to be inspired.
I ran to my bedroom, grabbing scissors on the way,
And constructed an enormous bow
That I wore as a crown,
And for the rest of the day, I was Princess Julia.
Life was much easier back then.
But things are different now.
In the back of my closet, hidden in the darkness
Is another black plastic bag with my secrets inside.
My hopes and dreams, bitterness and fears,
Insecurity and all of my worthlessness
Are consumed by that black plastic bag.
Each night, I sit on my bed, and empty my brain.
I write it all down, and give it all up
To my black hole of emotions,
If only for the night.
Flutter.
Your eyes flutter,
And you're almost asleep
My beautiful baby.
Some day soon,
Your heart will flutter
Like your innocent,
Sleepy eyes.
If Time is leaves falling to the ground,
Or the smell of soft, spring rain,
Fetch me a chair, dear,
That I may sit before the open window,
Taking in the four seasons of my life,
Each distinctly beautiful.
Let me watch the tulips blossom
And absorb the springtime sun,
While watching myself bumble
Through childhood,
Lacking the knowledge of corruption
That I'm cursed with today.
Let me see myself fall in love for the first time,
When the summer heat beats down,
Seeing everything as delicately beautiful.
The ocean's waves
Will come and go, like the relationships
I may or may not save.
When the leaves change from red to brown,
I'll remember my children,
Business trips, and a plethora of soccer games.
My husband will romance me every night,
Recaptivating my heart,
Making me fall more and more in love.
Remind me of the happy times,
When winter's icy fingertips
Send chills down my spine.
Reopen my eyes to the stark beauty
Of not just my seasons,
But life itself.
And when it's time,
Let me pass onto my next life.
Tell me what you think!
I dreamt of the mother I hope to become
Last night, when my family was fast asleep.
She sat with her little girl,
ready to strum her guitar,
singing a soft lullaby
to keep bad dreams far away.
She kissed her daughter's head,
Whispering a soft prayer,
and closing the door.
Her husband held her in his arms,
As they danced in the soft kitchen lights,
Revealing her protruding, pregnant belly.
Another baby on the way,
Another life to bless.
Music encompasses
My very being.
It's not a passion,
But a lifeblood.
Stay in tune,
Be inspired.
Desperate.
What comes into your mind
With that 9 letter word?
Teenage girl.
Throwing herself at boys,
Giving herself away.
Or perhaps,
The image of someone
In trouble comes to mind.
I'm still young,
But I know desperation.
Nothing spells
D-E-S-P-E-R-A-T-E
like the guilty look
In a mother's eyes
When she lacks the money
To feed her children.
Her own hunger pains
Flee from her mind
When she hears her little girl's voice
Asking about dinner
Or hears her tummy growl.
Growling like everything that's wrong
With this world.
I'm all too familiar with that look,
All too familiar with that word.
Desperation isn't a "four letter word"
But it should be.
The world around me seems to be driven
By the Sun. Sunlight, daytime,
And what can be accomplished.
Slow down, dear sisters! Your life is slipping,
Filtering through you slender fingers,
And you don't even know it.
It's the Moon that I love.
He holds my heart,
Now and forever.
The night possesses such a peace,
Of which day can only dream.
Some nights, he chooses
To illuminate my town,
Giving light the the shadows,
And keeping the city safe.
But other nights,
He plays poker with the Sun.
To bask in her presence,
Her light,
Renewing his own source.
He goes to the girl with the golden hair,
And there he finds restoration.
Those nights of darkness,
I miss my Moon.
And anxiously await his return.
"Moving on doesn't have to be
Bitter and sorrowful."
That's news to me.
Mourning you,
Mourning us,
Was simply second nature.
But I became
So immersed
In mourning that the moon
Lost his iridescence.
Writing lost its charm.
My foolish grin
Forsook my face,
And all passion was gone.
Enough is enough.
It's plain to see:
You've found a new,
Beautiful girl...
I'll celebrate with you.
But I must ask one last
"One more thing"
Will you celebrate with me?
For today,
I've found my new muse...
And he's been there all along.
Your name, on my lips,
Tingles like a forbidden
Secret-- kept from me,
Kept from you.
My trembling arms raise a hammer
above my head,
An "iron fist" of sorts.
With each weighted step
Towards my reflection,
My arms scream,
Threatening to buckle,
But I must push through the pain.
With a force I thought impossible
To muster up,
The hammer came down,
Shattering the mirror, and my reflection within.
A deep, warm breath filled
My belly and lungs;
It was the first real breath I'd had in weeks.
Fresh air had never tasted so sweet.
You see, all this time,
I held my shattered heart
In my own hands.
Only I, myself, was able to stand up
And start again.
Overwhelming guilt lost her jealous hold,
And control stepped to the plate.
Stars sparkle overhead,
Like the diamond ring
I'll never have.
I have applied pressure to the wound
And have bandaged it quite firmly
But nothing stops the bleeding
And nothing stops the ache
My heart broke for you...
But I have no
Bandaids to
Protect
My
Heart.
I hold
It in my
Hands-- blood quickly
Dripping through fingers.
Drops of blood mark my path
Showing just where I have been,
And where I'm headed to. My heartbeat
Stops. It ends, my love, just as you do.
