icy blue eyes
fixed just below
the camera

almost
but not quite
calling me home.

Eli S.                                  10/3/17
To: Eli S.

NO SUBJECT

Are you here yet?

Sincerely, Eli S.

we were going to get married
on the beach
barefoot
in the dead of winter
partly because we loved
the cold salty air
partly because we wanted
to defy the norms
we certainly did.

I put my faith in pinky promises
and astrology apps.
It isn’t our mistakes that first come to mind
when I think of us,
Though they certainly do.
Instead, I remember the French cafe
From where I can no longer bring myself
to buy hot chocolate.
Instead, I remember curling up in a plastic chair,
feeding two quarters to a payphone
dropped them more than once
in my excitement for ten minutes of your time.
From Winter Beach Weddings to
Three months of “missing my calls”
I’m not quite sure how we got here.
High school rock music shook my skull.
I thought my kneecaps would pop off
and leave me sprawled on the auditorium floor.
Her angelic voice made my ears bleed.
A colossal, though unintentional, “*******”.
First heartbreaks are like golden retriever puppies:
They contain infinite stores of energy that somehow manage
to refill themselves after only a few hours’ rest.
Their blonde hair is everywhere.
You are everywhere.
We were like George and Lennie:
“clinging together in the face of loneliness and alienation”.
It was never going to end well.
And I could write (have written)
so many bitter, hurt, apologetic heartbreak poems
a million stanzas that are essentially
paraphrased Waterparks lyrics.
But none of this will change the fact
that I likely won’t receive an Orange-Crush soda
on Valentine’s Day.

in us history
we are learning about
the civil war
and nearly every class
i am forced to hear
your name
Georgia
had one of the largest
slave populations
in the united states
so nearly every class
my heart
like sherman's neckties
is wrenched out and
twisted beyond repair

today at lunch
I saw lilly -
like the flower but
with another l,
a fake -
your girlfriend
(soon to be ex
but you don't know that yet)
she actually smiled at me -
i think she was surprised
i hope so -
in response
my ****** muscles
contorted into a
smile(?) more false
than i ever believed i was
capable of producing.
it wasn't really a smile
it was
******* For Ripping Her Away From Me
it was
I Would Like To Punch You But Self Control
maybe (fingers crossed)
it scared her.

I go to sleep at
10 p.m
but lately it's more like
2 a.m.
because I don't want
to turn the lights off

I brush my teeth
every morning and night
but lately it doesn't matter
enough to me
because my breath will only again be soured
by bitter truths in the morning

I don't read or watch t.v.
before going to bed
but lately I've been
listening to children's stories
because they imitate the innocence
that was long ago stolen from me

When you kissed me
your soft blonde hair
chilled by the icy wind
wrapped around my infected piercing
pulled at it painfully
dislodged the scab
and made it bleed.
I said nothing
not wanting to upset you.
In turn
I threw my arms around you
and buried my face against
your shoulder
compressing the fresh cuts
lined perfectly on your arms.
You cried out
and pushed me away.

I am only alive
to see for myself if
I am truly wanted,
if people truly need me,
or if I am a burden.

I want break down,
I want to cry,
but all I can do
is suffer in silence.

My body is numb
but my chest is tight
with so much pain.

I feel nothing
and everything.

This is depression.

Sometimes there are days,
The rare days
When the medication seems to be working.
When life seems bearable,
And I see a future for myself.

But then I get to thinking,
What is it all for?
What does it all amount to?
What is my purpose in this world?

The answer is simple:
Nothing.

Spiraling once again,
I realize I want to be dead.
But right now I cannot die,
Too inconvenient a time.

So I turn to the next best thing,
To the scissors in my bathroom.
A tiny, silver, dainty pair,
That nobody would imagine the use for.

My left wrist,
Wearing a permanent white bracelet.
The skin on my hips, discolored with tally marks
Of each minute I wanted to die.

But I'm not dead.
Most would call that an achievement.
I call it weak.

I don't have the guts to get what I want,
I'm too afraid to take it.
I do though, and I realize
That at the moment I don't truly want it.

My friends say I smile all the time,
That I don't have a serious face.
I find this particularly funny,
Because I constantly remind myself
That my frown must be erased.

Nobody wants to see
What is really under my mask.
And if they have a clue what it is,
They are too afraid to ask.

The way she smiles as she walks,
The way she jokes when she talks.
The serious expression her face takes on,
The way her eyes are never drawn.
The feeling when she hugs me to her chest,
And all my problems go to rest.
The nickname that she gave to me,
Always spoken so playfully.
The slight wrinkles on her forehead,
From life's problems that she was too early exposed.
This is the girl that I love,
A fighter,
A survivor,
A warrior.
Though we will never be together,
My love for her will never falter.

Every day when I see you,
My heart does a little dance,
But it also cries out in pain,
We will never be more than friends.