Bright blue eyes glistening in the sun
As you roll on your back.
You look at me, so cheeky
I can never predict your next move.
Should I run and sit beside you?
Or will you simply run away,
Leaving me to chase you further?
The warm sun melts our bones
As we simply lay near one another.
I reach out to touch you,
But you retreat and soon I follow.
I look at you in peaceful bliss
Eyes closed, soaking the rays.
I envy you, wishing I could succumb
To the earth just as simply as you.
My bones harden as I sit up
Burning the fantasy of peace.
My heart freezes again as the stern look
Resumes its familiar position on my face.
But then I feel your presence beside me
Nuzzling my arm until I smile again.
There's nothing that melts my heart more
Than the softness of your face, your deep blue eyes.
Your motor begins to start,
Engine revving as I caress you more.
Fur as soft as silk, little Lilah,
And you, dear kitty, make me human again.
Rolling words, like dirty tires
asphalt slabs, wasted hours,
Nights alone, feels like home,
you were never very good to me.
Broken plastic, phony dreams
pipe tabacco, cracking seams,
slower step, promise kept,
you were always my summertime.
Sparks have faded, ashes cold
gates left open, secrets told
too late to talk, let's just walk
things are easier once I get high.
Wait for winter, wait for rain
or fall forever, ease the pain
too many ropes, it's all a joke
you broke my fucking heart though.
Pull together, shrug the want
friends don't know, friends still taunt
you will break me, you won't save me
No one knows how many times I've tried to die.
But it gets better, so they say,
when he held my hand things felt okay
people leave, hearts greave
I've never been so good with changes
Skys are bluer, my heart is sad
you're doing good, and I am glad
but it hurts to know, you're glad to go
Like you forgot we promised forever
i want to treat your heart like a blackboard
and write my name in white chalk
across the middle in big letters
i tried so hard to keep you around
but the problem with chalk on a blackboard is that
it can be erased and replaced so easily
To wish, to wish,
To dream a dream,
To writhe in nightmares of the obscene,
To ask, to know, to whisper, to scream,
The Waters of Regret, with tears, it teems.
The Night has vanquished the Softening Light,
The mind and heart, as one, in flight,
They try to spread their wings but unfold
Blackened remains of dreams so bold.
Skeletal and frail, they represent
The nothingness, the loss and lament,
They creak as they move in their fragility,
They yearn to wander eternally,
It happens that I do, indeed, readily
With Love and its "virility".
Happiness is a virtue, a privilege,
Not a tome, a text, or pledge,
It holds steady in the worst of winds,
A Northern ship in the tides and spins,
The pitch and yaw of each barrage,
Makes one wish for camouflage,
From life, from loss, from all heartache,
All who I know regret me, their mistake.
Be at peace, I'm at peace,
It's the rest I need,
I try and remember when you were happy
Full of despair
The way she felt
It wasn't fair
So full of pain
She was drenched
It falls with the rain
So bitter with the taste of fear
Sitting in her mouth, just sitting
With the taste of tears
Spitting it out, spitting
Abandoned left all alone
Neglected her heart left at home
Without anyone around
It lay broken and beaten into the ground
Black eye and bruised face
Her wings broken in last place
Smiling still she was dying
Falling broken her children crying
Until she opens her eyes
Someone new in her place
The years she spent dying
That person left with no trace
She was dead
After the years she bled
The goodness of her left shed
Left a broken soldier instead
I live so far away
And 3 phone calls aren't enough
Your Welsh hair has grown gray
Eighty years must be tough
Dad is long gone
I know that you are lonely
I so dread those calls
And I know that it's wrong
It's just that I can't bare
The sorrow that I'm not there
To help you along
You aren't heavy
You are my Mother
Frail yet strong
You aren't heavy
You. are my Mother
It's my heart heavy.
Finally, I broke...
I picked up the sharpener
and put down the pencil
took out the blade
let my pain become a stencil
for ruby tattoos
to tally mark broken hearts
how much blood will it take
to hide the scars?
The ends of my veins
are tied off with guitar strings
to keep the sad song inside of me
but I still worry that my blood will stop flowing
because did you know
that the ocean only moves because of the moon
and my constellations are fading
these waves are waning
it is only a matter of time
before the push and pull of these tides
stops like a kid too heavy for the seesaw of truth or dare
I dare you
to tell me that feeling nothing is better than feeling pain
because the heart
is nothing more than a muscle
bench pressing suicides
trying not to flatline
playing a marching band of panic attack drum rolls
and skip-a-beat silence
It has to feel something
and I can see it in your eyes
the truth found you
I can see it in the way you hold yourself
as if your bones have been hollowed
and are as thin as eggshells
I can hear the pain in your breathing
tell me where it hurts
and I will build you a ribcage out of my scars
because they have always been more solid than my bones
in the same way that I never believed in god
but I have always known about the monsters under my bed
I love everything about you.
All the little things and big.
Even all the things that I hate.
I love how shy you are,
how annoying and sarcastic you can be,
how you dyed your hair black,
how long it is and how every time that you flip it my heart stops.
I love how your ears are pierced,
how you wear colored contacts,
how you can sit there for hours without talking,
how you would always get distracted and forget to text me back until hours later.
I love your abs and how I think you are smarter than me.
How you can act like an idiot, but know when to stop.
I love how you are so stubborn,
and your smile,
and how even your voice can give me comfort.
I love everything about you!
I could sit here for hours just writing them all.
I have loved you since the day I met you.
And as hard as I try nothing in the world can change that.
If I could I'd
And I wouldn't even
if I could I
would let go of
Because I know it
feels too much
dying being around
Me (they are really just
But for some
Reason I like
for some reason
In 23 hours
I'll be able to
To walk away from
Its more likely
that I wont
When people talk about everything thats wrong with kids these days,
I say to just look at how they are raised.
I was taught to judge people first by their face,
and second my how much money their father made.
I was taught that if it was weird, it was gay,
but if it was actually gay, nature had made a mistake.
I was told that the kids with cuts on their arms were only looking for attention,
and that the differences between us could be seen in complexion.
My brother was raised exactly the same way,
but every day I am reminded that he never changed.
And when I open my mouth I am accused of brainwashing him,
but I he still doesn’t care even when I get him to listen.
I only escaped out of necessity,
when LGBT became a part of me,
and I couldn’t bear to look in the mirror because I only knew one type of beauty,
when I had to accept that I would drown without therapy.
The world looked a lot different through orange pill bottle goggles;
I could finally see that the apple had to fall far from the tree,
or I would become part of this society that kills every dream,
and tells you there are endless possibilities then ties you down with material things.
I spent three years breaking myself into pieces,
trying to find my broken heart and replace it with one that did not have lines drawn at every divide.
Every minute of it hurt, but not more than the hate I had for myself,
or that awful feeling that I had hated someone for just being themself.
Still, on the inside I am stained.
I am marked from every time my family spit a venomous name.
For awhile I thought that what they didn’t know, couldn’t hurt me,
but then I spent an entire weekend under my bed because their words left me so empty.
But this is the price I pay for privacy.
This is what comes from being a wolf in a family of sheep.
It’s more like being in shackles than wearing false clothing;
I can’t even howl at the moon because what if they heard me.
If this is just how they were raised, then who should I blame?
When does a person become at fault for not being able to look past the things so deeply ingrained?
Who am I to ask them to use their brain and think for a change,
instead of doing what their parents taught them was okay?
I am the daughter that can’t bring a girlfriend home.
There is a reason that they will never get to hear this poem,
because I am their daughter who locks herself away in her room and tells friends she’s busy,
I am their daughter with out-of-control anxiety and depression that they don't bother to see.
I spent three years falling apart and I wouldn’t take their hugs.
I was always holding myself together because I knew that I would never let go,
but it’s funny how having your arms trapped around you feels just like a straight jacket,
and you can only take it off when you realize that you aren’t alone.
There are thousands of kids diagnosing themselves on the internet because their parents won’t listen,
and thousands more who hide everything they are because they just can’t take anymore scars.
But what I’m saying is the opposite of comforting,
because there are hundreds of thousands of people just like me.
When people talk about what’s wrong with kids these days,
I know that the ones they’re talking about are the kids who struggle every day,
not the kids who turn the keys that bind our chains,
and all I can think about is was this really just how they were raised?