Nothing to prove, time slowly crawling into my veins,
My lips touch the smoke exiting my mouth,
Morning dew you are I see, Wondering just what is inside of me,
We can joke now about last night...it's our job;
Can you feel it?
Wave goodbye for the night never knows if it lives only once.
Can you see her? Pale perfection, nothing more.
It's all coming back later, so don't you worry about little insignificances and mistakes you made.
You haven't made any mistakes this far;
Can you feel it?
Why don't you show me the way, show me the day,
I've never aged any other way than how I know.
I can feel the power flowing from my closest,
The nearest thing to me is one inside itself.
Me, what I've done, cannot be summed.
Soon as day grows weary, Soon as time closes shop,
The infinite dreams lie ahead.
Over the horizon, it's coming soon.
Can you feel it?
What could happen? What will become of tonight?
What will become of us?
You and I, it's drawing closer to us...the unavoidable;
The sun sets slow but early, the wind growing a dense cold,
The steady silent chill in every November night,
I feel the cold in my bones, I feel the anxiousness in my hands;
I don't want to listen to Rachel Taylor anymore
I hate her voice
God, I'm so fucking over that
Being so complacent
and then the sob stories
The crests and troughs
Like a wave's
One night wanting a change
The next - same story
Same old story
Just a new face
I step onto the cold glass tile
The window's open
And the hairs on my leg
Stand at attention
Put the towel down
Turn the nozzle on the shower
I wait for the scalding water to pour out
The music snaps on
5, 6, 7, 8!
I just stand in the shower now
I don't even imagine conversations anymore
The water rolls off my head
My skin is bright red for the heat
And I should have just showed up and said
Get in this car - let's run
I wash the sofa off from my face and shoulders
And run my hands through my hair
A dark, wet matte
The cool december air
Blows through open window
I run the towel
Over the wet hair sticking to my arm
Check my phone:
"Maggie Upham has uploaded 5 new photos"
And then the little red circle with a little number "1" in it
And I feel my heart pounding,
And I think I might scream!
And then my heart sinks
And there air is knocked out from my lungs
Like it always does
When you read such a tragedy
Your bold boiling,
Your stomach in ropes
But now I just hate it
It's always the same shit
Some fucking romantic song
Some fake book about love
Always there romantic side of art
The romance of depression and angst
The, "Why me?"
I'm sick of it
I don't want to read the poems anymore
And be lied to
I don't want to hear they lyrics and hear
The beautiful, gentle voice
Two tears ago, I'd go through hell to hear that voice
But now it's just a chore, a task
Something that I do begrudgingly
And I've heard all the songs so many times
Now I hate the sound of a bow pulling on the violins
The hum of the quartets
The ping of the piano
the beating reverberations of the bass
and Anna Bulbrook's lovely harmony
I don't want to listen to Mikel Jollett anymore
yes I'm a little crazy, hell even a little insane. but no one could love you as much as I do
I'm not the prettiest, skinniest and I'm far from the smartest, but no one could love you as much as I do
I always say the wrong things, I can't even count the times I've almost ruined us, but no one could love you as much as I do.
My body is stained with scars, that trail from my thigh to my hips and end on my arms. but no one could love you as much as I do.
I don't have the slightest clue why I love you, but there's nothing that could change the fact that I do.
It snowed all day today
First snow of the season
From the time I woke up to the moment I went to bed
The snow was so powdery
All there was, was glitter in the air
You see, I still want to tell you about my day
Because there are people that come in our lives
And they mean so much it doesn't make any sense
But they do.
I find myself still writing for you
Even though you don't want me to
But after a hundred poems it's hard to stop
My word's seem to come easy when I'm hurting
Often though, angry words are not meant
And actions are unfairly judged just through words
I'm not trying to get back what we had
But no one should feel not good enough.
We may accept the love we think we deserve
But often we deserve far more than we think.
And hush, you did. You do.
I keep checking in on you to make sure you're okay
And it kills me to know that you're not
What you consider flaws are simply the
Little quirks I saw back on your porch that made me smile
I hope you live; that you are more than just alive
Because I know you are a good person
Who deserves all the happiness and love in the world
And I would have gladly spent
The rest of my life proving it to you
Someone can't go from being the center of your world
Straight to nothing over night
I too, still think about you always ...
And it's only been a week...
The hands that stretch, the feet that glide. The ability to see, the strength to withhold vision. I was stuck in shades of dark and filth. I was burning in the passion of the sun. I heard a truth that spoke life. I heard an angel say dive. I took a chance hoping I would fly. I jumped thinking I would bounce. The fall was humanity and life announced. I fell into an ocean of truce. I found creatures bad and good. It was a war, a fight for power. They were corrupt lifelings looking to be kings. They felt like gods eluded by the ring. The ring that controls all things. The orchestrators of lies that kill. Kill the freedom of the mind. The orchestrators of a world that enriches so-called kings. Blasphemy is the order of this world. Pain this world brings. A world of treacherous kings but all nothing without the power. What was the power? A spoken idea a woman a lump of gold? It was the fear! The fear instilled in souls so to inhibit freewill and limit conduct. The power that tarnishes the human soul. The power that bars the mind and hides the truth that one must face. The truth is his identity, the success of his identity is serving his purpose. The realisation of his purpose is dependant upon his surroundings. Surroundings are walls that limit his will and remind him that all he can be is nothing. The fallacy that man is the illusion and the kings are the truth. Scaling walls, browsing I saw that they were fighting. Protecting an order. Fighting for a world of lust, confusion and weakness. Where the kings are gods and the weak slaves. I spoke once and said that I am the vision and the truth I speak to the weak that need healing. I have body armour but no weapons. I have a reason to fight but no weapons. I have weapons but no army. I have an army but the soldiers have tainted minds, no feet and only one arm. An arm that remains stationary, erect and held together. It was the fist that represented the power to stand. The fist that represents immortality. I found hope, I found belief in the little weaponry that lay in my hands. The invisible truth I protect is the heart of my soul. Embracing I know I am what is real, Embracing I acknowledge the dangers of reel, Embracing the truth I know that I am the power and the power is me. I opened my eyes and saw the world as the waking of the day when the sun rises. I found relief in knowing that I am no longer hiding for this power is for fighting. Fighting for the will, fighting for man to be free. I leave the place that was confining, I leave the dust where souls burnt hide in, I scale these walls and glide, I use this power of liberation to display the truth that so many saints have protected. I allow the showers of the night to heal these wounds that leave me infected. I stand in refuge, I am a ghost, I am a soul, I am man, I am the power.
The little white light
on the Christmas tree
it did shine
If you believe in miracles
They can come true
The little angel on the Christmas
Tree her wing it was broken
But the little bright light
shone down on the broken wing.
The mystery magic appeared
The little angels wing was now
All the little toys jumped in sheer delight
for the little while light shone ever so bright.
Now Christmas will be remembered for
The Love that was given by a babe that was
born from heaven.
I wonder about you every day.
Any little thing.
Do you miss my voice?
I miss your voice.
Did you cry today?
Did you smile?
I miss your smile.
How is school?
What have you forgotten?
Where? Who? Why? When?
Am I the first you think of when you wake up?
Does every little and big thing remind you of me?
Do you crave my lips like I do yours?
Does a song remind you of us?
Do you gaze over at your passenger seat and long for me to be there?
When you close your eyes can you feel me?
Does your body ache for my touch?
My soul wants to leave this body to find your soul.
Am I the last thing on your mind as you drift off?
Have you dreamed of me?
Have you cried yourself to sleep?
Will you forget me and all that we have?
Do you still love me and want me in your life?
You say, "Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels”
but I say surely something
must taste nicer than the burning acid
being forced back up your throat.
Why not hug people instead of
toilet bowls? At least they’ll hug back.
Except Mia is your only friend now.
And her cousin, Ana, of course.
And I understand that you never
wanted to die, but this is a thousand ton truck
hurtling towards the edge of a cliff and
Ana took the wheel a long time ago.
There is no strength in this: in you, in a
fear of calories. Even your bones creak
as your muscles sigh with exhaustion -
for this, is not a war you're winning.
This is a battle with only one contender
and I will not be the one to disarm you.
That's your job and it always has been. I know
you only wanted to be beautiful
like all those stars in the magazines
you saved under a file titled ‘thinspo’
but the only stars you ever saw were in
your eyes from the dizziness
and to tell you the truth, you are not pretty.
For there is nothing “pretty”
about the layer of fuzz your body grew
to protect itself from the big bad wolf
when really, the only growl was coming
from inside your stomach.
Or how your little sister is afraid to touch,
let alone hug you, in fear of snapping you in two.
For there is no glamour in having to
remove clumps of hair out of the plughole
at least six times whilst having a shower,
just to let the water run down.
Or that one time you "accidentally”
took too many laxatives. Messy.
There is nothing admirable about the way
you sat shivering on your bed
at night instead of kissing boys,
or dancing, or eating ice cream.
There is nothing to be marvelled at
This, is not a life to be lived.
God, this isn't even a life.
This is being a slave to your own body,
a walking zombie, a ghost stuck
between two sides.
You are not alive.
But it was all still worth it, right?
Slowly killing yourself from the inside out.
A small price to pay for perfection,
a bargain for a broken mirror;
for a half-written book
with 97 blank pages,
that only captures in black and white,
with frozen hands.
And most importantly, for a peace of mind
you never received.
Splintering hard unforgiving cold
Beating upon the barren ground
Like bullets from a gun
They catch what little light that manages through
They shine beautifully and sting like sin
My breath becomes puffy clouds before my eyes
Red fingers ache and groan with the chill
The world smells crisp and white
Purified of all its delightful imperfections
Snow dusts the trees in their frozen splendor
And touches the world with its bone white fingers
I wish I knew what it was about you
That I loved
So I could capture it in a broken jar.
The jagged edges
I have never been able to shake
Your voice from my ears
Like droplets of water after a nighttime swim.
I have never wanted to.
If I could
I would write you letters
Every day, before swallowing them whole
the next time our lips met
you would taste the ink
trickling down your throat.
I sometimes pretend
I will never see you again
And hold you a little tighter
Kiss you a little harder
If you noticed
And chose not to ask.
I wish we had a garden
Where we could walk
In the soil
Our mouths full of yesterday’s tomatoes.
Come with me
The next time I climb a tree
We can build a city between the leaves
And wait for it to rain.