In the whirlwind that is the city,
is it strange that I ache for you to be with me?
I'm surrounded by people,
but I wish to be with those who know me best.

Tired eyes tell me to rest,
my brain tells me to resist.
Which do I listen to?

Do I venture back out,
into the life of the city?
Or do I settle down for the night,
and pick up a book?

"He wears a mask and his face grows to fit it"
"Shooting an Elephant"
George Orwell

I wanted to name this poem after you
but I call you no name but your own
there is nothing to disguise you under
you are always there
and
you were never here

You were easy to erase

There were no pictures that needed deleting
sure, I kept the letter
but it's not even remotely romantic
save the memories from the night it was written

Be that as it may
I still miss you like crazy
and I know I have no right
you were nothing to me

You made sure of that.

But in the dark of the night I still remember you
your embrace
your laugh
the feeling of you pulling me close.
Something I had never thought you'd do.

This life is a lonely one
which I think we both know.
I cherished the moments with you,
the ones where I felt less alone.
The times I could crawl out of my head,
enjoy the moments.
Laugh without hesitation

But this is a poem to say goodbye.
To let you know;
I'd build a shrine to you
just to blow it up
but I can't do that
because this is New York and space is limited

I often wonder if I should reach out,
imagine a world where you reach out to me
but I stop my brain each time
because this is goodbye.

There's no sense in ruining a thing
that's already been ruined,
something that was once so great
so perfect, even.
All things considered.

So,
goodbye.
I'll think of you singing along to those old songs
under the false blue of the twinkle lights
And no, I didn't love you
but I might've come close

New York
is home
maybe
well
it's a temporary one
but
nonetheless
I miss it so
Amsterdam
is beautiful
the people
so tall
so blonde
always biking
and I'd like it more
if I could fit
but
I am
hot tempered
angry
cynical
not fit for European life
I'm hesitant
to say
I'm homesick
because I'm still trying to figure out
where 'home' really is
but
I'll concede
I miss certain people
I miss certain things
that I never thought I would
and
I'm not begging to leave
but
I'm not begging to stay

There's a darkness in you,
it bubbles and boils under your skin.
I see it sometimes,
in words spoken in the heat of the moment,
when you set the smoke detector off while cooking us dinner.
It scares and intrigues me,
like an electrical socket to a toddler,
I tell myself it will hurt if get too close,
but I cannot help myself.
I want to see every part of you,
even the angry ones.

i don't know where you get off
i don't know how you feel
do you care
and are just unable to show it?
or are you just keeping me around to toy with?
the thought of you drives me crazy
not with passion
but with anger
i have no affect on you
and that's something that i'm not used to
i need you to tell me to stay
or to go
rather than just push me away
all the while
saying that you care

I thought they said that distance makes a heart grow fonder?
But somehow miles seem much longer than they used to.
The space between has grown.

Unfamiliar to me are the surroundings you now call home.
I had thought your home would always be the one around the corner from mine.
I thought they said that distance makes a heart grow fonder?

You bury your discontent under a heap of lies;
Never enough time to call, stamps are too expensive; don’t expect letters anymore.
The space between has grown.

I’m reaching out into darkness.
It seems like you're across the country, not a few states away.
I thought they said that distance makes a heart grow fonder?

Honesty has become inimical, denial is now our close friend.
We didn’t seem to notice the change happen, once we did we tried to cover it up.
The space between has grown.

It seems that we have changed, grown up in very opposite ways.
We let two hundred twenty six miles define us, change us, it has successfully destroyed us.
The space between has grown.
I thought they said that distance makes a heart grow fonder?

Speak through a personal story
involve judgements
go beyond values
see truthful life,
not random pictures.
A story is more than the sum total of its parts.
consider knowledge

Blame is heavy;
it seems you've forgotten that.
You put the blame on me without thinking that maybe I can't bear its weight.
It seems to not enter your mind that it could crush me.
We both know I'm not strong
(at least, I thought you knew that)
I am weak minded,
I used to be strong hearted.
You broke that long ago.
The love that I had for you,
the love for you that was in my genes,
has somehow disappeared.
I lay in bed at night,
aching for you to care,
hoping that maybe one day you will try to call me.
You don't.
It's been two weeks without a single word.
The last words you spoke were angry,
you shouted as you mercilessly put the blame on me.
It seems that you forgot to take it with you when you left.

Even in this ever bustling metropolis it is easy to feel alone.
I never thought I would ache to be home,
to drive along the oceanside with the heat blasting in my car.
I always thought I was better than that.
But right now the ocean is calling me,
or perhaps it is the moon,
its waxing and waning signaling me to return home.

i see you
(the real you)
usually early in the morning
(before my brain fully turns on)
(before i can really appreciate it)

snuggly and sweet,
satisfied and smiling
no hint of the bravado that'll set in

i want to pause this moment
(forever)
want you to keep this happiness
bottle it up,
sip from it when you are feeling low

alas

that's impossible

the tick of the clock has never been louder
all i want is more time
(with who you are now)

grab me,
pull me in closer,
remind me of where my home really is
(nestled into your chest)
(safe in your arms)
(smiling against your skin)

and
please
(one day)
let me do this for you
let me be the call home
to remind you of who you are
when you're happy
and smiling
and snuggly

I don't know what to call it.
I've never had a shortage of feelings.
Anger runs rapid in my brain, continues on until it hits a wall,
and gives up.
Sadness lurks behind every corner,
waiting to make an appearance in my day,
waiting to see what it can do to me.
Happiness attempts to be prevalent,
it shines its pretty face,
tries to fight of the others.
It's a whirlwind of feelings in my mind.
I'm sorry,
I can't help it,
I don't know what to say anymore.
There is no excuse,
but I was never taught how to fight off all the feelings.

don't know where to start
don't know when you stopped
caring
liking
wanting
i just know that it's gone

know that i'm
alone
& that you don't mind that

and that's okay
i guess
i'm used to it

i would've appreciated a warning
would've liked to not gotten into it so deeply
but whatever
life goes on
i guess

That's like telling the sky that it's blue.
It's a well known fact that doesn't need to be said aloud.
I came to terms with it long ago,
you should do the same.

Yet here we are,
I don't know if you're saying it because you're only just realizing it,
or if you're saying it to hurt me,
to disarm me,
to make me more vulnerable than I already am.

You're the one who chose to love the crazy girl.
I never chose to be crazy,
it is just something that happened-
I'm pretty sure it's genetic-
it's the way I am.

Love me for my crazy ways,
or not at all.
You know I'll be waiting for your answer,
I'm crazy,
after all.

I am submerged,
drowning.
Trying to find the surface,
but it's coated in ice.
I reach my hands up trying to find air - all I feel is ice,
it's relentless,
I will never be free.
Something is always trapping me.

the sun's setting
but
i don't want to turn on the lights
just want to watch the light fade from the room
windows open
listen to the low hum of life in the city
feel peace
realize
it's been a while since i've sat with myself
like this
alone
no distractions

i think
it's kind of
nice

Old photographs taunt me.
They show a time where everyone was happy,
a time that I have no memory of.
I look at photos and am forced to imagine what it must have felt like,
to have everyone under one roof,
happily.
To be a normal family.
Nothing like the mess we are today.
I have vague memories from before the separation.
I remember a certain argument,
where they were shouting so loud,
I had to lead my sister outside.
We sat under my colorful umbrella,
I read my American Girl Doll book about divorce.
I don't remember how they told us what was going to happen.
I don't even remember the day my dad moved out.
I'm not sure how, I wasn't even that young.
Maybe I erased it from my memory.
History is repeating itself.

Fading away
Ever so slowly
The monotony of life is killing me
I never thought I would live like this
In a city of so many people
I am so lonely
I see groups, couples, friends
EVERYWHERE
while I walk alone
from one job to the next
Waiting for the moment
when someone looks in my eyes
and says
"Come here, where have you been?
I've been waiting for you for so long.
I knew you'd show up eventually.
Don't worry,
you don't have to be alone any longer."

here we are
somewhere new
again

somewhere
i didn't know existed
(i can't find my way out of a paper bag)
(but if you'd drawn me a map, i would've tried to find my way here)

and
i'm terrified

i've spent nearly five years
chasing after something i wasn't sure existed
and it's even better than i ever imagined

i've been yours
this whole time
(even when you've not wanted me)

but

you've never been mine

and
this is
a lot to lose

i don't want to lose it

nowhere's felt like home
in a very long time
not like you
nothing grounds me
like your grasp
nothing calms me
like your touch
and
i'm homesick

i'm
begging for you
pleading for you

just
pick me up
take me home

come sit next to me.
I won't bite, I promise.
Turn towards me,
look me in the eye,
show me something that I can hold on to.
I'm grasping for anything to tell myself that I am alright,
that you are beside me.
I reach and feel nothing,
did I do something wrong?
Do you find me repugnant?
Did I hold on too tight?
I'm sorry,
I've done this before,
ask for too much (while getting nothing at all)
pushing and pulling
pushing even harder
searching searching searching
for anything at all.
It's alright,
just sit down next to me.
I've changed my mind,
I don't need anything at all.
Just the feeling of your body near mine is enough

(for now)

I'm surrounded by a world of pretentious posers.
They hide behind the title 'hipster'
They don't hide behind brand names,
they hind behind thrift store clothing,
they call themselves authentic.
How can you be authentic when you take the ideas of others,
change a few words,
and call it your own?
I am surrounded by a world of posers,
wondering if I should submit and head to the nearest thrift store.
I am trying to figure out who I am,
find myself in everything I see,
figuring out what I like and what I don't.
I don't know where I am.
I read the poetry of Plath and feel like we share similar thoughts.
I am not Plath, I cannot be Sylvia,
I won't end my life with my head in an oven.
I am not depressed,
at least I don't think I'd call it depressed.
I don't know what I am,
I can't label it.
When I try I am afraid to,
I dont want fall under the category of pretentious poser,
but I am afraid that's where I am headed.

I am alone.
I am afraid.
I am sorry.
I am a disappointment.
I never meant for it to be this way.
I just wanted a happy family.
I am unsure of what I did.
I sometimes wish I was never born.
I wish you could be happy.
I wish you didn't hate me.
I wish I didn't hate you.
I wish we could keep up the facade for a few more months.
I wish I had paid attention.
I wish I had a plan.
I wish I was smarter.
I wish I wasn't such a disappointment.
I am sorry you don't want me.
I am sorry you have to defend me.
I am sorry to be causing so many issues.
I am sorry.
I am afraid.
I am alone.

I cannot save you,
cling to me to keep you afloat and you will find my skin is too slippery to latch on to and that you will certainly drown.
I try hard to keep my own sorrows at bay,
I cannot help defend you from yours.
I am sorry, I am too weak to protect both you and I,
my smile falters easily and if you look long enough you will see that my happiness is a facade.
I was unaware that you faced your own demons,
that you, too, were drowning in the same sea as I.
Perhaps if we joined forces we could keep the monsters away.
But instead, you are hundreds of miles away,
throwing swears at me when I say the wrong thing,
not letting me see your scars,
not letting me know your pain.
You caught me off-guard this time,
you didn't let me know when you were caught in the quicksand,
you only let me know once it swallowed you whole.

too busy
trying to save myself

stop
trying to pull me under
i'm trying
so hard
to stay
afloat

i don't know
where to leave you
or how
or if it's even possible

or should i try again?
rake myself against the coals
to try to win your forgiveness
for something
i'm not even sure i did

probably?
i don't know.
this is
endless
exhausting
emotionally draining

sometimes
it seems like to much
to even put up with

shoes thwack against concrete
can't get anywhere fast enough
don't remember the first time you said you love me
can still taste the tequila on my tongue

and i'm not really sure if it matters
you'll be gone soon
i'm sure of it

it's okay
i like to be alone sometimes
and listen to the sounds of the city
but sometimes
i hear people chatting
and
i ache to be a part of something
i find that maybe
i don't really want to be alone

and
i'm lonely
which
makes me want to wrap myself inside of your love
fill myself up on it until there's room for nothing else
but
that's not possible
and
even if it were
there's no way you'd let it happen

so
i love you
but
i feel so alone

and your strong arms could hold me up,
but you're drowning too.
I'm trying my hardest to keep you afloat,
pushing you up as I fall to the ocean floor,
but it doesn't seem to be working.

We're falling,
and flailing,
and aimlessly wandering,
and I keep hoping we can wander together,
at least for a little while longer.

When you find what you're looking for
(we both know it's not me)
and you stop drowning,
I hope you'll remember me,
drag me to the surface,
and remind me to breathe.

I don't know where it ends.
I can't picture myself without you,
but I don't know how I can keep you in the picture.
I can't imagine ever calling it quits,
saying the past year was wasted,
saying we never want to see each other again.
I can't imagine life without your house around the corner from mine,
but I know that it will happen soon.
I can't imagine life without you to hold,
but I know forever isn't real,
the end is closer than we think.

for the way that I feel.
How my insides feel hollow,
and how my eyes look empty.
I don't know when we went from comfortable to nonexistent.
We both live in the past,
hide in memories from summers long ago,
when we cared the same amount,
wanted each other terribly,
when we were both happy.
Before sadness consumed me,
before this hollow feeling became something other than a visitor.
I need a word for how I ache to hear you say my name,
for how I feel when I say yours,
how I need to resist myself from telling stories about you.
There's no word for the way I feel,
maybe a combination of words could try to do it justice.
I need a word for how I feel,
I need you to say the words to tell me how you feel.
I'm lost.