not very long ago i thought i was going to say to you,
"i love you."
i thought i would say,
"i want you,
and i hope you want me too,"
and i thought that maybe it was what i wanted.
but where has the innocence gone,
and where is the love?
and when did i stop needing you,
and more importantly when did i start again?
and then not very long ago
i was filled with the kind of anger and disgust i'd forgotten i could feel for you.
it took the words and the breath right out of me.
i'd forgotten that part of loving you,
and all at once i remembered again.
it took the want and the respect right out of me
and it filled me with the deepest sadness.
a moment of short-sighted drunkenness,
it's not what i should remember about you.
it shouldn't consume the thousands of goodnesses i see in you
but it does.
a few hours ago i was in a place we shared once
and i ached for you so badly
and now, again, i am hollow.
you fill me up and you hollow me out and i forgot that wanting you is exhausting,
but i remember now
and now, again, i am lost.
and i hope you fucking read this and i hope it pisses you off
and i hope it makes you think i'm immature or reactionary or naive
and i hope it makes you indignant or dismissive or i hope you don't give a shit.
jesus, i hope it makes you think all sorts of terrible things about me,
i really do.
i hope it makes you think i'm pathetic,
i hope you think it's unfair.
and you're damn right, i hold you accountable,
because you're better than all of them put together
and you act like it one and a half times out of ten.
you disappoint me as often as not, now.
isn't that terrible?
i used to think the sun rose on you,
i used to think it set on you,
i used to think you were everything in between.
not very long ago i was going to tell you.
i was going to sit you down and say it all to you
i was going to speak until i'd done everything i could do,
i'd really rather not even look at you.
maybe i'll love you again and i will again allow myself to be filled by you,
to feel all the things in the world for you, to burst with love and with pain,
but tonight you hollowed me.
you left me shocked and sick and numb tonight,
angry and disgusted.
tonight you exhausted all the light i put to you,
you burned all the love,
burned it and scattered the ashes, and you saved me from putting it back together again.
it's over now.
My grandma sits shaking in her
Rocking chair, rocking.
Ten minutes ago, she got news that her mother died.
She had seen her earlier that day.
Sometimes things that you can't control
Are the absolute worst. Very rarely are they great.
Sometimes I wish I could take the wishes
From children with their shiny pennies.
Sometimes people cry over loss
And tears just need to fall in episodes of
Trembling, and shaking bones.
Because sometimes being strong is not enough.
Sometimes the rockers on chairs that rock,
They squeak. And maybe it's because
Sometimes those rockers get tired of being strong.
They get tired of being silent.
Sometimes you see things that you
Wish would stop replaying in your head.
Sometimes you hear abstract words
That just never leave the inside of your ears.
Sometimes when people grieve,
They get so wrapped up in who they lose
That sometimes they lose themselves.
My grandmother will not lose herself.
I have always known that
No matter what happens, she will
Always tell me to follow her footsteps and be strong,
I can't imagine being strong if she were gone.
Quite often to you.
No, you can't say things like that and expect it to not hurt.
No, you have to think before you act.
No, you don't do those things.
No, because I love you.
I love your voice.
The way you look right when you wake up and just as you fall asleep.
The things you say and the way you're important enough that it can cut me to ribbons.
I don't know.
Its not a sexual thing. I just need you, I love you and want to hold you
I can't explain.
So I say no.
I can't tell you that
Its not important
Why those scars look so new
Or that one word makes me start to sob
Or how my face is so bad at listening to my mind.
I love you.
So I'll say it again.
Central park Nevuary. 3rd.
There's a noise like I never heard.
Humming and grunting.
Guess Ill go hunting.
trolling they call it.
Candy.apples are bait they tell me .
Lucky I'm stocked up with the caramel kind..
Why? Don't have a clue.
Creeping on my belly to the clearing ahead.
Therel"s a huge checkered table cloth . Checkered I said
Sir. Are there more white squares or more red type squares sir.
Trolls sit cross legged in front of a candy apple pile.
Stuffing their faces a minute a mile.
Trolls are a fiction or that is the tale.
These trolls wash down apples with hot ginger ale
I wish I would stop dreaming this dream.every time
I eat mango ice cream.
Songs of the lost few
Who now wither away here,
Tell tales of old loss.
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
The morning started with a shower
Arms braced against the wall in a kind of supplication
Pushing hard so damn hard you want to fall
You let the water wash your dreams and pain away
The morning started with you leaving
Saying I'm so nice as you walk out the door
I know your tired cause we didn't sleep
I remember your whispered promises that were quickly disposed of
The morning started with you lying next to me
While I played Rilo Kiley
So close I could touch you but I could tell you didn't want to be touched
"Sometimes in the morning I am petrified and can’t move
Awake but cannot open my eyes
And the weight is crushing down on my lungs
I know I can’t breathe
And I hope someone will help me this time..."
I played it in a moment of honesty
My one true expression as I watched the distance grow between us
I wanted to fuck you again cause I hoped it would mean something
Thank you for teaching me that the third time is the charm and the fourth is for sleeping not fucking
It's hard to find this kind of rejection early in the morning. Thanks for staying open late to accommodate me.
The morning started with me laughing at you when you said where's the underwear?
Writers can laugh at painful parallels and prophesy true unintentionally but not uneventfully
It doesn't help me not want to fuck you again
So we fuck again for the third time. The last time.
You kiss less when your not drunk
The morning started with some smoke and water and generic Advil
Proscribed to all the fallen like vitamins
You look good naked
Next to me
I wonder what this morning will bring?
This morning started with me inside you the second time
You made me cum inside you like you wanted something that I had to give
Maybe love maybe pain -you did like to be hurt
You didn't remember that I said I want to hurt you less cause I actually like you
I choked you cause you wanted it more than me
I feel like Kriegers robot arm sometimes
Perhaps we could just affix a cock to the arm and I could be replaced
Go on vacation to the city of lost whore sluts
I hear the buffet there is wonderful
The morning started with me inside you
On the kitchen floor
I threw you up against the wall too hard
You fell down so I took you right there
On the linoluem Under flourecent lights
You were so tight and tender and tough
You fucked me desperately like you hadn't been getting enough
Sorry for banging your head up against the fridge
The morning started with you next to me
Both of us drunk
You kissed me right
Out of the many there are few that do it
It's a weakness for me and dangerous to believe in the power of knowing through a kiss
You dry humped me like a dog on speed
It felt good
That and the kissing
I said no
I wouldn't fuck you
Like I said before
You said it had been to long
That you never did this
I said I needed to wait
That I liked you
I didn't want you to be just a fuck
Not just for you
But for me
Sometimes even seasoned whores need to feel special
I said that I'd fall too quick
You can be very persuasive
The morning started with me on the couch with your friend
We had makers and he had Jameson
He called it neat but it had Ice
I didn't say anything
You told him that you knew me for a long time and that i was gay
In retrospect it probably helped that I talked about color and carpets and paintings and poetry
I tried not laugh as we tried to pass of our little deceptive parody
Sure it was successful but what does it really say about me that he'd believe it
Oh the irony of pretending to be gay to get a girl
The things we do
He left after a long soliloquy on decorating and fashion
I think you might be like me and sometimes confuse the facts of your friends and stories with your dreams
I thought your adept practiced and surreptitious deception was endearing
I wanted to kiss you all night so I was glad he left
After he was gone I told you in the bathroom that I wanted to kiss you all night and you dropped your pants and peed in front me
You looked at me like no big deal and said what I don't care
I really starting liking you then
The morning started at the bar the night before
You sat down and smiled and flirted with me
You told me I would have to wait a year and a half to fuck you
As we drank way too much and both grew more beautiful and gracious with every ounce of liquid forgetfulness
The morning started the night before at your work when I hit on you cause you were laughing and smiling and had a little halo
The morning started like any other morning
With lies and rejection and sweetness and passion and loneliness
If I knew I was going to be used like this
I would have used a condom
Not to just protect against the std's but to protect from intimacy
I hope I won't fail on both counts
A little worried
That's why I write this story
Azrael Always James
© Copyright 2013
also, I am sad that no one has anything to say:-(
I hate you!
I don't know who you are anymore.
You've changed and not in a good way.
You don't care about me anymore.
You just use me to get what you want.
You were suppose to be my bestfriend!
Now I don't even know who you are.
I can't trust you at all.
I don't believe anything you tell me anymore.
Your just a stage 5 bitch!
You only care about yourself and your boyfriend!
You've turned into a complete clinger who only cares about sex.
I just don't know what happened to you.
Or even when it happened...
You were the only one there for me for the longest time.
Now you barely ever even talk to me...
Except when it has to do with him.
I just wish I could talk to you about this.
But where do I even start, I don't know you anymore.
And the person you have become I'm starting to hate...
I just want to know where's my bestfriend?
That girl who I use to lay on my bedroom floor,
laughing hysterically about nothing with!
I see her, but at the same time I don't..
I talk to her but its not her talking back.
Its this person who pisses me off constantly!
Your an obnoxious, self centered, attention seeking, spoiled bitch,
and starting to turn into a whore!!
I hate the person you have become so much.
I don't even know what happened to you.
Or who you are anymore.
You love them.
You hate them
You care about them.
You want to kill them.
You do anything for them.
You'll die for them.
You'll lie for them.
Your always there for them.
You get mad.
You get annoyed.
You get jealous.
You get in fights.
You say things you don't mean.
You see who they actually are.
You not only see who they are...
You can see all the bad things about them...
You can see who they actually are!
And you don't care.
You don't care if they are obnoxious.
You don't care if they are jerks.
You love them anyways.
You'll be there for them no matter what.
They're always there for you.
You tell each other everything.
You keep each others secrets.
You become family.
You lose them and sometimes they come back.
You make new friends but still keep the old.
They're your friends!
They're your family!
They're the ones you can always count on.
You do stupid stuff together.
You make memories together.
You make mistakes together.
You get in trouble together
First day of 8th grade sex-ed class,
Sitting awkwardly beside you in my seat.
Closing our math binders in sync,
The health teacher strides in.
"Take out your folders class!" a loud voice booms,
I scramble to find it.
Taking out blank paper to write notes,
The teacher launching into a fast paced lecture.
Losing track of the words I stop and look to your sheet and copy,
To only see you have written one word--your name.
You notice me looking as I smirk at you.
I try to hold in the giggles,
Even though it isn't funny.
You reacting the same way.
I look up and catch your eye and I feel my tummy doing turns,
Why do you do this to me?
You look like your blushing but I couldn't tell as we both looked away,
Do I make you feel the same way?
We mirror movements without noticing it,
Life isn't making much sense to me.
I slump in my seat already bored of this lesson and let my hands hang loose,
I then realize how close to you I am, your warm breath blowing down my neck.
I can feel you look at me,
Me wavering under your gaze.
You do something surprising,
You slip your fingers through mine under the desk,
Hidden away from view.
I feel myself panicking my breath coming out faster,
Blushing like a cherry red tomato.
I readjust my grip reassuringly squeezing your hand in a friendly gesture.
They say your first love never lasts.
But a girl can dream.