half here in a 1.5x body
six inches above the national average height
I didn't notice when I was marooned in the clouds
now a pariah afraid of birds (SQUAWK)
"It's too foggy to notice much here"
"Too bad I didn't pay attention"
too b a d
so s a d
That nobody sad I was sick till it was too late…
…now I've got smack on the brain, nothing in my cunt, and empty pockets for innumerable bills
except I always find money for booze, whose blurry touch tells me not to feel, too feel, and to speak.
I wonder when I became retarded* and when I stopped being exceptional.
Maybe they're synonymous?
IDK LMao K I L L ME, maYBE
This is too long of a poem for anyone to read it
"Hey loverboy," she says. I don't respond.
A rough draft excerpt from my story, Fictional Truth.
“Hey Loverboy,” she says. I don’t respond. I enjoy ignoring her for a moment after I come out of a day dream.
“Hey. Blake. Snap out of it boy. Time to come back to earth,” she says with her usual tone of pleased annoyance. This time I leave the world inside my head and return to reality. Slowly turning my head to the right, I can see those deep green eyes gazing up. I never get tired of her eyes.
“Come on, you said you’d help me here.”
“Sorry,” I say with a half grin and my best attempt at contrition. I look down to the papers in her lap. Right, math. I was helping her with calculus. She was really very good at math. We were in the same class, but she was two years younger than me after skipping two grades in elementary school.
“This one you just take the derivative of your function and plug in these two values.” I can remember these things effortlessly now, which was a huge accomplishment for someone who doesn’t particularly like math.
“See, this is why I keep you around,” she says, those rosy lips that I so adored pulled into a little smirk. She reaches up and kisses me. She always seems to find an excuse to kiss me. “You can go back to daydreaming now.” Indeed I do, retreating back to the dreamscape inside my head. This time I think back to when I met Clara.
I had just arrived on campus, a bright eyed college freshman. There I was, lost in a sea of more beautiful women than I had ever seen in my life. Small private schools had never been kind to me in that regard. Everything on campus was a wonder. Nobody from my high school had come here and I was very much alone, but I didn’t mind. I had outgrown most of my high school friends long ago. It was long past time for me to expand my horizons.
I found myself standing in front of a massive glass building. I wasn’t past checking my reflection in the glass windows. Had to make sure my hair still looked as good as it did when I arrived. Who knew when I might run into some attractive young lady? Opening the doors I caught a waft of the bookstore smell, unlike anything I expected. At home the bookstores were small, with dusty leather covers that begged to be handled and old people that smelled like coffee. This was completely different. The odor of panicked freshman and newly bound textbooks permeated the air. I decided right then I wouldn’t be spending much time there.
There was a long line extending towards the back of the building. Not knowing better, I assumed it was the line I was supposed to be in and slowly made my way to the rear. This would take forever. I pulled out my phone and started on another game of Angry Birds. I had been killing evil pigs for almost five minutes when I began to feel like I was being watched. Sure enough I glanced up to see a large pair of deep green eyes looking at me.
“You know, some psychologists say that technology is making us less social,” said the girl looking up at me. I couldn’t respond. She had straight black hair pulled behind her in a long ponytail. She had a small, perfectly formed nose with what seemed like a sea of freckles on it. Even more freckles danced on her cheeks. She was several inches shorter than me, maybe 5’9” and had on tight jean shorts and a black tank top that exposed only the most tantalizing amount of cleavage.
“So I’m just starting to feel a little uncomfortable with you undressing me with your eyes like that,” she said with the smirk on her face that I would soon come to know.
“Sorry,” I said, a tiny grin tugging at the corner of my mouth, “You surprised me a bit.”
“I’m Clara. This is the point in conversation where you tell me your name.” I liked her already. She had confidence and wit that was both abrasive and attractive.
“I’m Blake, pleased to meet you.” Damn I was smooth. Almost as smooth as a wagon over rocks. “Are you a freshman too?”
“Yep. Just got here. I don’t think this line is moving.” I really liked the way little dimples appeared at the corners of her mouth even when she frowned slightly.
“It really doesn’t seem to be. At least I have pleasant company,” I said. Oh man I was so smooth! I was really proud of myself right there. It was hard flirting with such a beautiful girl. She seemed to throw me off balance.
“Well, that was the least offensive flirting I've heard all day,” she replied. Good gosh this girl was straightforward. “It’s a good thing you’re cute or I might not have accepted that.” Cute. Okay, I could work with cute. “So you’re in psychology 1000?” she asked.
“Nope, I took that during high school.” I replied. Why would she ask that?
“Well, you’re standing in the psychology book pickup line.” She said with a slightly puzzled look on her face. I definitely was not in psychology.
“Oh, Psychology! I, uh, I thought you said, uh, philanthropy. Nope, I’m definitely in the right line. Okay, that was a lie and I was at least 100% sure philanthropy was not a class. But hey, I was under pressure and I needed an excuse to keep talking to this girl. She looked at me like I was slightly on drugs but moved on without hesitation.
We talked about various meaningless things while the line crept closer to the back of the store. I was constantly mesmerized by the deep green in her eyes. I had always been attracted to green eyes but they were pretty rare to see. When we got to the pickup window, she paid for her book and stepped to the side, watching me. I decided to bow out of buying a several hundred dollar book just so I didn't look like a complete idiot. I comforted myself with the fact that she might think it was funny.
“Soooo. I’m not really in philanthropy. Or psychology. I just didn't want to stop talking to you just yet.” I said with a sheepish grin. Luckily for me, she laughed right there.
“Alright then Mr. Blake, what books do you really need? Maybe we can go stand in line again.” I listed off several books that I needed for classes.
“Calculus. I need that one as well. Come on silly.” She turned her back and started walking. I followed right on her heels, a goofy grin plastered all over my face.
That was my first interaction with Clara. We spent the next two hours gathering all of our books, and at the end I carried her rather large pile back to her dorm room. I was promptly rewarded with her phone number and some cookies that her mom had packed. Normally I’m very pleased by cookies, but the phone number was worth so much more.
“Hey. What about this one?” Clara’s voice comes from beside me. I lean over to look at the paper again.
“This time just take the antiderivative of cosine and solve for x.”
“Oh right. That's the last one.”
“What do you want to do now?” I ask.
“How about we go to your room and see if we can make your roommate uncomfortable enough to leave?” She says with a mischievous grin, bringing those deep green eyes nearer to mine. She always seems to find an excuse to kiss me.
You know it feels like a silent picture show now.
I see your lips moving but the sound does not come out.
My feet feel like walking but I'm sulking in this abyss.
Oh no, Doll, you lost what you once had.
Forget what I just said about that.
Cat eyes catch you lips.
The darkest, coldest, fever glimpse.
Cross your heart and go die
Don't you touch me, do not try.
Go catch a hoe and don't come home
Because there is nothing sweet about being alone.
I got a match and I got your clothes
The things I've seen no one knows.
I never said a word about you, no.
But I'm worn down, sick, and full of loopholes.
You saved me from the waters rising just above my chin
You looked on the corruption inside me but still you took me in
But I forgot
I forgot how my soul used to sing at the thought of you
I forgot how to breathe without gasping
I forgot how to look at the world without eyes glazed over
I forgot how not to feel that twinge inside me just at the sound of your name
I forgot how to live all while actually feeling alive
I forgot you pulled me out of my shackles
I forgot you responded to my call time and time again
I forgot how to feel like I felt before I got here
I forgot how suffering took away everything good inside me
And I forgot that you love me
I forgot that you are mercy
I forgot that I’m not supposed to be angry
So I’m angry
God, I forgot how not to be afraid.
I forgot how not to be a slave to myself.
I forgot that I shouldn’t want anything else.
I forgot. I forgot. I forget.
So, please, remind me.
But do it gently.
Don’t forget me.
you called me two hours ago,
three days ago,
four weeks ago.
you keep calling
and i keep turning my phone off.
one day, i will answer,
but it is easier to turn on a cell phone
than it is to turn on a heart.
i cannot open my heart for you,
and yet somehow there is a space for me in yours.
(i think i got lost
trying to find happiness.
i found you instead.)
this is not a breakup.
this is not about heartbreak or pity,
because i am not yours.
(i was never yours.
i was never yours.
and you are not mine.)
you called me two hours ago,
and i turned my phone off.
my heart was busy fucking somebody else,
and my head was too tired.
one day, i will answer.
All my life I have stood behind
Never the first thought on anyone's mind
Always sitting here alone
I've got no messages on my phone
As I look into the light
I don't see too much that is right
Why is there so much pain?
A thought that is always on my brain
I've stopped a dozen suicides
I've seen through a million lies
I can see what you really feel
I know what is really real
I've fed the homeless
And given hope to the hopeless
I don't try to be Jesus
But I care about the least of us
I'm really far from good
But I try to do as is should
I never hold on to any friend's
But I always try to make amends
I help them through their strife
But in the end it's not my life
I'm returned to myself
Content to sit as a picture on a shelf
When I need someone to lean my shoulder on
Why are they always so far gone
It always hurts but I don't know why
When did I become the catcher in the rye?
The pain is so strong that I can’t bare
It’s clear God isn’t answering my prayer
Another pitiful attempt to clear my head
My tears stain the silky material of my bed
No one listens, no one really cares
I have been damaged beyond repair
I know my parents won’t care if I’m alone, crying
I’ve tried to be a good daughter; yes I’ve been trying
I ball up in the corner of my darkened room
My face stiff and my eyes full of gloom
Suddenly my heart gives way and I feel numb
I knew I was through; I knew I was done
I’ve had enough pain, rage, and fright
I’ve decided it all ends tonight
I got up to my desk to write one last note
What I felt is what I wrote
I wrote how much I loved my Dad and my Mom
I never knew I could be so calm
I stumble to the bathroom door
Not before opening up my drawer
And picking my amazingly sharp knife
With this I will end my life
I locked myself in the bathroom and filled the bathtub with water
By midnight, this family will have one less daughter
I did what I had to do with my note beside me
My blood level dropped to a serious degree
I died that night in a bathtub of my own blood
I never noticed how much my bathroom could flood
My parents came barging through the door
In my blurry vision I saw my mother drop to the floor
My father scooped me up and tried to bring me back with tears in his eyes
His eyes held worries and so much love; no lies
My mother was besides me; screaming, I could tell she was scared
They were both crying, I never knew they really cared
The pain is so strong, it’s almost relieving
I know my soul fading away; I’m leaving
I whispered, “Mom, Dad … I love you so much”
As I felt my last touch.......
When someone tells you something’s wrong; please don’t let it dismiss
Please, listen to them; don’t let it come to this
has constantly got you
at the stitches
Tempting you to spill
your insides out
To re-write love on your arms
Like you meant the cuts
To cut the conversation short
a blood loss
in a blog
Some masochistic pride
pulled you into the abyss
Where do you draw the line?
and raising awareness?
With trembling lips she kissed and sealed a letter she wasn't quite sure when she would send.
Tear stained paper and a bit of blood she found her life splattered across a piece of college ruled paper.
There were a few lines explaining her actions and a few lines of apologies.
A few lines about her family and a few lines about her regrets... But most of it was about you.
It was about the way you always told her how she reminded you of sunshine on a rainy day.
How she was pretty in the simplest ways even on those bad days.
How you would never let her go crazy no matter where her mind took her.
You said you wouldn't let her lose her mind till the day you died.
Tears flowed down her face
And she just wasn't quite sure how she got here...
Because you promised her that you wouldn't let her go crazy and here she sits planning the last couple days of her life wondering who she'll send the letter to...
You are a flower.
You start off as a sea but bloom into everything I need. Even tho I am struck with hatred I am constantly reminded of your pedals. How they sparkle with un-defying colors. How they sway when shaken by the wind. Your pedals fell off and I got older.
But I still remember your beauty and that's what keeps me going.