she breathed her name
into the snowy atmosphere,
but it dissolved into
so then she whispered
it to the powdered ground,
but it sunk into the ice.
next, she tried to speak it
to the frozen lake,
but it disappeared
into a residue
of crystalline particles.
she cried it out
to the inky covering of stars,
and it echoed through the hilltops,
reverberated among the highest
everglade branches, and sounded
throughout the candlelit town.
she yelled it again,
to the high soaring birds
and blanket of clouds,
to the rooftop and
and she found
that she enjoyed the sound
of her name
My last words should I die tomorrow how I wish.
I'm just tired of feeling so hurt and lonely. The pain is far too much to handle. Depression is something I've struggle with for many years now. My many reasons to live were my family, my friends, but most of all my love. Even with those amazing people in my life the depression always hid underneath. Coming out to Barre its ugly teeth when I was intoxicated or vulnerable. I hurt the women I love most in this world. I can't stand to live with that. I'm tired of the many tears. I'm tired of the heart ache. I'm tired of ruining the good things in my life. Please remember me for the goodness in me and not my evil deeds. Rest assured I'm at peace now. I was rarely at peace alive. I hope everyone's dreams of an afterlife were true. I'd love to see those pearly gates or if what I did sends me to hell so be it. Maybe we are apart of gelatinous cube, one of my favorite ideas. If it wasn't I wouldn't have married it. I will never be entirely sure why you left me Alyssa but I love you and I want you to move on with your life. I was a destructive character in yours and everyone else's life. As you know, you're far better off without me. I made some big changes trying to clean up my act but instead it all just came crashing down. I'm glad I died still married to you and that cause that is how I would choose to go. Having had a loving wife who cared for me deeply. I'm wrapped in your favorite blanket, my head resting on a pillow that still smells like you. In one of my favorite places. Its a frequent of ours when we were stupid kids and we'd sneak out together. Little did I know she was my future wife. I just knew that I adored you. I'm holding the book of poetry you wrote me. I'd like to be barried with it unless Alyssa wants it. She can have anything she wants. You always were a sucker for a poet and I hate that you fell for cheap words when I would of bled right infront of you. You'll find a man with far less flaws and he'll sweep you off your feet. He'll treat you well and wont taint the memories like I did. When you broke up with me the first time. I cried harder then I had ever cried over a girl. You've found another poet in your life. This time when he dies or breaks your heart I wont be there to take you back. You were always my dream girl. My sweet love. My love was my name for you because you embodied every wish I ever sent to the universe. I just had some issues that we couldn't fix. So just hate me and move on. I know this will only push you further into the arms of another man. You were already there when you left though. I also want everyone to know that I want Alyssa to have all my belongings. She knows me better then anyone and she can burn it if she wants. I want her to have my life insurance money also. Please buy yourself something nice. I'm in the same place, in the same car looking over the beautiful lake remembering my perfect moments. When I still made you happy. I remember getting you to fall for me. I will never forget that unique connection we shared. We had so much in common. Our playful nature. The books we loved. The music we adored. How I fell inlove with your brothers. How I had to convince you Jacob was the greatest guy in the world and pushing you to make amends with Gille. I always tried to push you to better yourself and situations. I was off mark sometimes but Gille's your best friend now. You've come to realize how Jacob is an endless friend, a companion til the end. You were blind to so many gifts you were givin from birth. If there was any gift I could have givin you. It was to make you realize what you have. So go find someone better then me, don't ever settle for less then perfect or I'll haunt your sex life. They built a statue of us and put it on a mountain top. I want you to know I was endlessly lusting over you. When you thought the passion died. It was because I forgot what to do. I just needed a little guidance.
Yesterday brought me Tomorrow;
Tomorrow lacking Nothing-
Nothing and everything...
We sit next to each other
Looking at the lake
Where boats pass every minute
And everyone is enjoying
The warmth of this summer sun
Today, you are not here
Even though you are sitting right next to me
That the depression
Holds you in its firm grip again
And monsters fill your head
You can’t hear me speak
I never realized
It could be this painful
To watch you suffer
Because of something that I know so well
Without being able to do anything
To help you
So I keep on talking
And I hope
That some of the words I say
Silence these voices inside of you
For just a minute
So you can remember
Who you really are
After all I know
That these monsters
Are very real
Because even after all this time
I can see them, too
It’s not in the dark that they scare us the most
In fact, the scariest they can be is when they unleash
On a summer’s day
The night has fallen, yet the sky is a light shade of gray
The morning sky is pink like a dainty rose
The snow sparkles in the evening when the street lights shine upon it
My eyes crinkle in laughter, and tears drip down my cheeks
City lights bounce and reflect off of the lake
Friends are there to back me up
The biggest, ugliest birds look majestic in the sky when migrating South
Something looks so perfect, and I wish I had a camera to capture the splendor
A book intrigues me so much that I zip through it and don’t remember a word
I can share all of my secrets with a person I just met
My hands graze the water that rushes past the boat I am in
Something so terrible turns out to be something wonderful
I experience a literal OMG, ROFL, LOL, or LMAO
The wet sand oozes through my toes
I get a perfect score on a test that I studied hard for
I feel the cool, frigid water slap my red hot face
A song fills me with extreme adrenaline
The wind hollers, whines, and moans outside of my window
A tree starts one inch tall, and grows to be one mile tall
Someone tells me that I have inspired them
People compliment me on my work
I am able to get in front of people and be honest with them
My body feels rejuvenated and young
The veins on the back of my hands pop out and pulse rapidly
I can feel the hot air blowing on my face when I roll down the car windows
My legs are smooth because I have just shaved them
A poem seems perfect to me…
We exist within spheres
Bubbles of perception
Roughly circular ripples of both know knowns and known unkowns
And then there
Right at the edge of these spheres
Just outside the very last shred of our understanding of how the world works
Is how the world really works
I've seen it
And not because I'm smarter or more enlightened than anyone else
But rather because I do better drugs than most
And while my short term memory is fucked
I have managed to bring back an excerpt of my journal
And it reads:
"This world is a process of conflict
A construct begat by the clashing of two equal and opposite forces
One of the forces
Is called Fate
And the other
Is called Choice
And the sum of existence consists of everything that falls in between
And the really fucked up part
Is that we already know this
Has affixed us with blinders that force us to see
So much so, in fact
That a sense of 'self'
Is considered hedonism in most circles
But the soul
Does not have a default setting
Is not an illusion
And despite what you may have been told
There is no compelling evidence to suggest that there isn't another world on the other side of my mirror
The are no empty spaces
Only effects that have yet to be caused
There are no reflections on lake shores
That is merely the image of God
Colonial mansion, in an ocean of grass,
windows aglow as I walk past.
funeral service now used of verandah,
but I hear music, not mournful stanza.
french doors open to a reminisce,
with boyhood heart, of vitreous.
Footfalls on parquet floors,
tux and gown past crown moulded doors.
captured ambiance of a setting sun,
shown from chandeliers highly hung,
day I was born, born day of the prom,
I smiled cordially, and my date fawned.
girls betrothed by corsage on wrist,
rare french curls--a lunar eclipse.
bedraggle boys now dapper and genteel,
vest and bowtie, a knightly feel.
chapperesses smiling at maidenly gait,
happy drowse in mansion estate.
cufflinks, silk gloves, nail polish of gloss,
beheld tonics and sweets, carefully aloft.
opening cord, an arrow from cupid's bow,
striking coquettes to their tippy toes.
they sprang to dance,I stepped back,
invisible in shadow with tux of black.
shoulders, lake ripples easing to shore,
hips, gentle waves, right before pour.
boys stiff, as if waists beheld sabres,
legs, sweeping brooms of on shore waiters.
"your too handsome to stay here unseen,"
said rivaling chaperess, semblance of queen.
"you should dance ,"said glittered lips of pink,
bent like sparrow wings, during teacup drink.
privy to why in shadow I hid my blush,
her class my crush, that crushed me so much.
she strained me, even the shadows she gave,
black silk, stretching,--convex and concave.
crude metal and wood classroom seat,
clasped her waist of slender physique.
she was guarded by a window in curtain mail,
and tended to by servants of light and gale.
light loved her skin of mediterranean sand,
and wind enraptured with brown strand.
light penetrated strands, blondly hot,
wind would blow, cooling pony tail off.
her shadow curtsied under my desk,
long legs danced in irritableness.
mourning class is abuzz with scent of prom,
flower not frost, rules the school's dawn.
I gave my consent,to an earlier invite,
then on, suitor blinded me with light.
and Great Gatsy, and looming prom night,
subjects of sparrow wings pressed tight.
" show of hands, who do not have a date?"
slender wrist arises, from an arm curvate.
alone, she shown that no one asked her,
this stone of Rome amongst boys of plaster.
hand fell with boy of teachers match,
wind shrouded her,from the window sash
rays gave discomfort,to gaze her way,
but I looked through burning ray.
to see a trace of a tear,in eyes ovate,
a godess unsought, with sadful face.
I, poor, fatherless, could not possible go,
to prom, with princess of arched portico?
I could not interweave my hands to dance,
or know, where I could place my glance.
wind blew a scrap from her desk, indiscreet,
it was pierced by light at my feet.
"will" and "with" were dotted with a heart,
"prom" and "me" before most painful part.
my name in her beautfiul free hand,
the colour red, from hearts inkstand.
class bell rings, I travel to mansion dream,
blue grass meet oriel in cul de sac seam.
eyes turn to cotton, in shadow as I ponder,
as pain was forgotten, I came upon her.
invisible hands, lifted my chin to a red shape,
our eyes met, her's smiling, mine agape.
only a glassmaker could imagine my sight,
seeing hot curves form in dance floor light.
only a wax-wing could have rivaled her eyes,
waves gently broke to gown down her thighs.
"will you dance with me,"she softly entreated,
" I don't know how,"a coward repeated.
a princess which tournaments were held,
for which every timber of mansion were felled.
not for Greece, mansion corinthian column,
for her, from quarry prom did befall them.
I could not tarnish this feminine form,
with my lineage in crown she adorned.
I turned from beauty, to dark acres tread,
under willow, I play the last thing she said.
my name, as I shunned from last chance,
back under willow, cane marks my stance.
I have preserved her forever, shying fate,
even if it was with my own heart-break.
I still see her--in the most beautiful prom poses,
still, I see her, as lights flicker out, and a coffin closes.
I tremble from it's wake,
but a petty raft,
as the living trireme,
rows into Earth's blue lake.
a) i am the mortar incurring blow after blow
from the abrasive quality of your negligence.
no, i am herb between pestle and mortar
the full realization of 'rock and a hard place'
b) i am the mortar between each brick you lay,
in blue collar glory, or rock star slumming,
to bind shaky corridors of past serenity
and bear indiscretions on my limestone shoulders
c) i am the mortar you fire before crawling under covers
for inexpensive sex and trashier beer
by a lake on a camping trip where tents trump love
like the queen of spades in a hand of hearts
d) in fact, these are false, merely possibilities --
actuality: you were never enough
to make me spew homonyms in metaphor
because you were nothing like them,
always appearing changed but monotonous in meaning,
and if you're so into contraposition,
aren't we still synonymous?
I find myself writing life lessons,
Only just to inform myself,
I'm only in high school,
But I simply don't belong,
I am okay with that,
As I walked by the lake today,
I heard everyone talking,
About me as i passed by,
I felt down,
I then realized,
Maybe it isn't me,
I can walk down by the beach all alone,
Without shame and I can enjoy it,
I grew stronger,
I am independent,
I do not feel the need to put others down,
I only need one love and one friend,
That is what i cherish,
I have the most precious love,
The most loyal friend,
I love how my life is going,
I can raise my head up and smile,
It's sad that it takes such bravery to smile,
I do it,
I am brave,
I know who I am.
I Met God This Morning.
He Was Sitting At A Bus Stop. I Sat Down Beside Him. I Was Convinced He Was Was Part Of Some Devine Intervention, Thinking If He Could Find Silence So Close To The Street, He'd Finally Be Able To Say He'd Seen A Miracle.
But I Wasn't So Sure i Had Seen Anything Because I Wasn't Raised On A Diet Of Bread And Wine, Oh Excuse Me, Body And Blood, Wasn't Cannibalized By The Holy Spirt. Now Don't Get Me Wrong, I'm Not The Sanctimonious Sacrilegious Type. But I've Placed My Hand, To Enough HeartBeats To Know We're Placed Here For A Reason.
And Then I Met Him Again, In A Convenience Store On The Corner Of Locust. He Kissed The Palm Of My Hand, And Told Me To Pray More Often.
But I Wasn't Prone To Midnight Awakenings, My Tongue Didn't Speak The Same Language The Almighty Savior Did. Everyone Called Him Father, But I Was Told We Were Better Off Without Daddy Around. Hadn't Learned The Right Hymns, My Lungs Not Strong Enough To Hold A Breath Deep Enough For The Two Of Us.
And Then I Saw Him Again. Working A 100 Hour Week, On No Sleep. This Time He Was A Single Mother Of Three, Whose Hands Had Stitched More Wounds Then They Could Care To Count. They Didn't Call It An Emergency Room, For Nothing. Two Hundred Thousand Dollars In Debt Over School Loans, And Still Had The Capacity To Smile. Thats How I Knew It Was Him.
I Wasn't Baptized In Anything Except For Maybe Hell Fire And Brimstone, Seven Shades Of Sin, Out Of Wedlock, With No Shot Gun Wedding Procession. I Didn't Have A Pastor To Preach Me Into Submission. Wasn't Thumbing Any Bibles, No Prequel To My Older Than New Testament. They Called It Faith, But I Wasn't Prepared To Walk Down Any Pitch Black Hallways In Hopes Of A Light Switch.
And Then We, He And I, Crossed Paths, For What Seemed Like Should Have Been The Last Time, He Was Quiet And Collected This Time. Made Weak From His Seventh Round Of Chemotherapy. His Body Was Decaying Around Him. His Spirt Was Practically Screaming To Be Let Out Of The Cage That Was His Ribs. He Passed Me A Note, & All It Said Was “I'll Remember You.”
No One Ever Fed Me A Concoction Of Deity, And Diet. Religion Wasn't A Silver Spoon In My Mouth. Afterlife Sounded Like A Bad Daytime Soap Opera.
But I Know The Creator. She Left Hearts On Notes In New York City Subway Stations. She Tattooed Your Name Onto The Bottom Of Her Foot, So Wherever They Took Her, You'd Be There Too. She Wore Her Heart On Her Sleeve, And Thats Why She Forgot It In So Many Places. She Was Obsessed With Shorelines, And Sunshine. And Shes Convinced We're All Natural Disasters, Happening Naturally, Falling Into Each Other, Against One Another, Like Dry Lightening Storms, Recklessly Stupid, And Always Too Young.
I Know God.
He Was Holding The Umbrella, And Told Me That No One Can Tell The Difference Between Tears And Rain Drops Anyway. He Was There The Day I Almost Drowned, He Pulled Me Out Of The Lake, And Held My Hand Until My Mother Came.
So Maybe I Wasn't The Church Pew Type, Hadn't Spent Hours At Sunday Service, Passing Around Empty Collection Plates, While Plates Else Where In The World Sat Empty. Didn't Know Scripture Like The Back Of My Hand, Two Freckles, Like Constellations, And Five Knuckles Hungry To Be Broken,
But I Know God.
I Know Him Like An Old Friend.
He Kisses My Forehead, When The Monsters Inside The Contours Of My Skull Got Too Loud.
He Holds My Skeleton, In The Early Hours Of The Morning, When I Was Desperate To Leave It Behind.
I Think Some People Might Have Called All Of These A Religious Experience.
But All I Know Is He Was There When I Was Born.
In The Room.
And I Swear His Voice Was The First One I Heard.