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Natassia Serviss Sep 2017
You’re not sad, that’s what you feel.
It may be a chemical imbalance; maybe a bottle of jack.
You can’t remember when the happiness felt real.
You want the sunshine back.
Just like my stuffy nose I know this will end,
Because I am not sad, that is not something I can comprehend.
I am not the things I feel or the words I say because that’s not what my body shows.
I am my actions and my space as my heart begins to plateau.
You’re not so two dimensional despite the lies you let yourself believe.
To let the world hold your worth so tight is something so naïve.
You are not your sadness or your anger or pride,
You are more than the hell raging somewhere deep inside.
I am more than this poem.
I am more than what I’m willing to show them.
The culture of people just accepting that they feel sad as who their entire livelihood is made out to be is what inspired this. We are more than just a feeling. We are more than our minds and more than our bodies.
Natassia Serviss Aug 2017
The skeletons aren't in my closet;
They’re in my bed,
They're in every word I’ve ever said.
You know my past and what I’ve seen
Because being hidden is something I’ve never been.
They'll wash your blood right off the pavement,
The summer rains crashing through your window.
It's the harshest hit you've ever felt on the cement.
All the cracks in my mental rifts fill the room.
It's a flood that'll drown us soon.
I always forget just who I am
And what I want from this storm ahead.
My words are an anagram;
The story behind is a fresh color red.
What I meant is something not even I know
Because someday soon my mind will turn.
The words I wrote will have begun to show
Then I’ll see the white of the bones,
The ribcage I remembered seeing.
In our lake we've been casting stones
Talking up stories about the world we wish would be so freeing.
In my closet wasn't a world I’d been hiding.
In my closet was the pavement you'd been riding.
I've been writing this poem on a mess of receipts for the last week.
Natassia Serviss Nov 2017
I can't miss the way you sound
or the way you'd mess around
It's not yet time for a haunting
You're not the shadow that I've been wanting.
You're as good as dead to me
when your spirit isn't even free.
I know that's wrong to say,
I'm not wishing for it to be this way.
We'd both rather be a memory
yet you stick around for every anniversary.
Can you please just disappear?
Your face is a reminder I don't want.
Your eyes are always so full of cheer.
Why can't you just stop acting happy?
Every thing you do just makes me feel ******
because I can't just let this go.
It's stopping me from trying to grow.
It's attacking my thoughts
It's destroying my image of you
and at this point I wish you knew
that no matter how much I hate your sound
or how much I hate the ******* around,
How much I hate the way you smile
and how you manage to run another mile,
when you have to make me feel like I'm wrong
and when you make me feel like I don't belong.
Then there's all the things you say
that make me want to walk away.
No matter how much I hate certain things you wear
or how much I hate the way you go about your hair.
No matter what you do,
it will always be hard to accept you.
After what I've made myself think
and after how you always manage to make me shrink.
It's like to you I'm a bug
and nothing will ever change that smug look on your face.
It's for that reason that I know there's not a place
for me in your world.
I know you don't care
and in a sense I guess that's fair.
I wrote this in 2013 and I was around 14 then, I can't imagine what kind of adolescent pain I was in but I vaguely remember the boy that broke my heart this way.
Natassia Serviss Nov 2017
I feel so tired,
I feel so lost.
Give my heart time to defrost.
I'm on the edge,
I've broken down.
I'll never get back up,
I'm going to drown.
We're left to think of an escape
As if the cut is a minor scrape.
Where do we find a cure?
I know people care,
I'm sure.
And if those were the last things I ever heard,
would you care to reword?
What if I was gone tomorrow?
Would you drink to drown your sorrows?
Those last words, what a shame.
Aren't you to blame?
If I can't find my way
If my path has gone astray,
Then whose to say I'll get out safe.
Hidden from my gaze
their words ring in a haze.
"We're here to help,
We're here to save.
Drop the knife,
Please be brave.
Please drop the gun,
They haven't won.
We want the best,
We want a smile.
You know that thing's been gone a while."
Just tell me it's alright,
Only for tonight.
My way out has been delayed,
Honestly I'm afraid.
Who's going to save me now?
And if those were the last things I ever heard,
Would you care to reword?
What if I was gone tomorrow?
Would you drink to drown your sorrows?
Those last words,
What a shame.
Aren't you to blame?
Aren't you to blame?
What a shame.
I'm gonna be gone tomorrow,
Please don't hold your sorrow.
Those last words were just a game.
Maybe you won,
Maybe you're to blame.
I remember this time. I remember this feeling. Written in 2012.
Natassia Serviss Oct 2017
When I met you, I prayed I wouldn't fall in love.
I'm not really religious but if I believe in a god then he must have made you special,
Someone just for me that challenges the strict rules I am made of.
A human with life and kindness in their heart that is half full.
Maybe I see you better than you are or better than you think,
But I can't really help the thought that I might be the pen and you my ink.
My words may haunt me like the spirits I drank to relax.
You exorcised the ghosts from my chest.
You caressed my body of abandoned railroad tracks.
For once I can feel a home in the spaces where we rest
While this dance plays out in my mind.
I remember that people are usually terrified of what they don't understand
So, it that's true then I must be terrified of you.
As the dark attic of my mind flickers with shadows prancing along,
I can only sit and wonder what kind of life you've gone through.
My love can't waver from you despite the mystery I see
Because I know the gods must have made you for me.
i think a lot about him when i pass this house on the interstate with a lake full of lily pads
Natassia Serviss Jan 2018
Maybe I fall too easy,
That might me my problem.
The spiral that which makes me so dizzy,
it doesn't appear to have a bottom
My chest screams a restless dream.
My love is my only fissure.
A small fault in my otherwise sturdy fortress.
Your lips escape this light little splinter.
Under my nails I can feel a heart broken chorus.
I can feel the ice overcome every vein.
With words so sharp, you glide right through me.
On my heart is a stain.
Whether you say you love me or not,
I'll still think it's the most beautiful spot.
I asked him if he loved me and he didn't say yes and he didn't say no
Natassia Serviss Nov 2017
I burnt the bridge from me to you
because I'd rather drown in the deep ocean blue
than drown in the love that you never knew.
I lost the battle but I can't lose the war
so to save myself from crashing into it all
I made a promise not to fall again, I thought about it more.
I told myself that it's better to be alone
because no one can hurt you.
But it's not what I really wanna do
because happiness is worth the sorrow
yet I don't know if I'll want to see you tomorrow.
I don't live on the edge like that.
I don't let my heart free.
A cage is where it's at.
and I so desperately want to lose the key.
So I'm going to be bitter.
I'm going to be rude.
I'll do anything I can to avoid getting *******.
It's not what I really wanna do
but I really need to get away from you.
It's nothing personal, at least not anymore.
I'm going to stay alone and I'm closing that door.
Maybe the saying will be true,
maybe another will open and it will be better than you.
Also wrote this poem in 2013, the same day as As Good As Dead. It makes me wonder why I felt this way given what I remember about this time in my life. Knowing the heartbreak I've been given since then can only make me see this past as comfortable in comparison.
Natassia Serviss Nov 2017
I used to think I was starving for love.
There was a gnawing pain in my chest.
My tears fell from above
While my nerves felt shocked and pressed.
My body under pressure
Turning me into a diamond one day.
I felt starved.
I felt bordered by such labels.
Now I think I’m insatiable.
Your love to fuel me.
When I drove to you the sky is always beautiful.
My new diamond edge cuts through my old walls.
Now with you I’m vulnerable
Because I’ve always recovered from my falls.
Natassia Serviss Aug 2017
I met you in the cold but you looked like the fire I’ve been chasing.
I could imagine your kiss and the trails on my back you could be tracing.
You could walk me in a hike and take my sanity for a ride.
You’re something so in between that you're almost reminiscent of me.
My chest quakes and rumbles when I see you near and I can’t hide the feeling inside.
You see me avoid your eyes because I know I’m not really good at dealing with my feelings.
I just try to ignore the knot in my heart and I know that's not wise.
You burn around me in these woods with the friends you’ve known longer.
Then you talk to me and the burning halts so fast when I wanted it to grow stronger.
It just seems like I can’t write you a happier soul
And you, like the others, are a human I can't control.
You looked so warm and so red,
So yellow and so orange.
You looked like summer in a text unread,
A new beginning in my garden of flowers.
You looked like a mess of marigolds.
My favorite view through the sun and showers.
Florida rain may not have been good for you but you shined anyway.
It would just be nice if you dreamt of loving me the same as I do every day.
Kinda bummed about him, he was cute
Natassia Serviss Jan 2018
Run away with me,
Through the rivers and across the sea.
My legs leave foam.
Past the shore line,
Scales past my hips and up my spine.
Bubble my seaweed,
Let my song cause your ears to bleed.
Run away from the life you hate.
Remove your soul from here for a clean slate.
Dance through the tides and down the stream.
Return the stones we've cast and learn what they mean.
Run away from the love and the words,
Because I may love you but if you'd like then I'd give myself to the birds.
For your happiness,
For my soul,
Where anything else but you would be something I'd want so much less.
I want his happiness more than mine and that might be my downfall but I hope that makes me a good person. Naive, maybe.
Natassia Serviss Jan 2018
I never felt like a hopeless romantic.
I was more hopeless.
My echoed gears turned the oil blood sick.
Burnt rubber following a dim lit haze.  
Unbolted and unburdened with only you to praise.
Soft thoughts of him, a daily occurrence.
Natassia Serviss Jun 2022
Our blood is golden wine,
I’ve been told to try sweeter blends.
My cups lay in my favorite number but the unknown in my shadow still stand.
Inside could be my salty songs for a memory that never ends.
I pull you down underwater to see just how far you can be from the sand.
Eyes wide open to the flame of your being;
It’s confidence and conflict that drag me out of my stalemate.
A torch to gaze upon something I know to be worth seeing.
Whether together or apart we still crawl the same trail to feel and be something great.
The oleander and roses course through our veins like the wax that holds together our armor.
We’re meant to grow our vines past the heavens.
That’s the place that holds serenity and storms that you never have to barter;
Where admiration never leads to lessons.
To be strong through our valleys when we feel like we’ll never climb back up.
In this garden is the place where I can accept your oceans dichotomy.
No matter how many wands, no matter how many cups;
I’ll accept it completely but of course cautiously.
All the eyes can see all the burning in my hands.
What could be sparked by nature feels easier to light on my own.
Is it gasoline I smell on demand
Or has the apple already grown?
5 of cups, 8 of wands, 7 of wands, the magician, the knight of swords. He lives in sunsets.
Natassia Serviss Apr 2017
Like a wind that blows my sails
Or a smell that melts my mind
We drift like shells that crash in the waves as the ocean wails
The sun on my skin as a reminder,
With the warmth of a body near my side.
That electric shock given to me by the responder
Could never make my heart beat back to the pattern that hit so hard I would have to hide.
My hands in front of my face and I tell our time.
I only know a few words but I know how to call you mine.
No direct possession of that breeze I feel,
But in my skin I begin to heal.
A claim to love, a claim to see.
It's not a claim to own even though that's what the words read.
I can't own a sound or the wavelength you're on,
But how else can I learn to appreciate the love before it's gone?
The air is too strong and too free
To ever belong to a human like me.
With wings to pass my sails and carry my soul,
You could never be mine or make me whole.
There's more to be in our sky above,
The world will revolve around love.
I won't ask you to be mine.
I won't ask to be yours.
We have so much time
And have opened so many doors.
The ocean can drown me and the wind can drive me.
I love my journey, the sky behind me.
I can't make the Angel mine,
But the love of the world will be just fine.
I think I predicted our end when i wrote this.
Natassia Serviss Apr 2017
The ghost in my closet
The bones in my chest
Broken and unwanted because my heart was ripped from its nest.
A forest of ebony, the bones they rose.
Calcified trees as tall as all my men.
Bushes made of all my empty pens.
Hikers trail me and wander their feet into my center,
Stomping through me they ***** up the way we were.
She takes my hand and drags me through the mud.
He takes my head and holds under my river of blood.
My rickety limbs find the pen to hold
To write a forest that you never knew could be so cold.
The ice covered it like vines,
Snowflakes in every line.
My bones, my skull, they were frozen in place.
These elementals could never decide how to leave me or let me end my chase.
The fire erupted quickly within me,
The forest began to burn down.
I didn't start the fire but it was the sweetest sight I will ever see.
Because I know in that forest of bones was the love we had been trying to drown.
Despite being the fire that took my home
They managed to be the worst pain I had ever known.
I thought being burned from the inside was a hell I couldn't have earned
But being frozen by them was a hell that I was glad had burned.
The forest where I met my most recent heartbreak burned down recently, some sort of wild fire type thing. It feels like a sign, if i even believe in that type of thing.
Natassia Serviss Sep 2017
Moss on my trees,
Falling in my windows.
Brought an aching to my knees
And a haze that only grows.
A leap towards the pine
With the tip of my spine.
A look in your eyes,
The witch hazel colored highs.
Like the fog in my morning,
I drive my sun to you.
A honey dew heart that will swallow me soon.
He makes me think of tarot cards and bees.
Natassia Serviss Jul 2017
You use the ******* to drown the pain.
It makes you feel good and feel fine
While your life flows down the drain
Of a sink you don't use to clean yourself.
Your chest aches when you wake
And your stomach flips because of the limit you always exceed.
You can't do hard liquor but there's no slowing your beer intake.
I can feel your existence shudder and shake
From your core you freeze in this snow.
The high you can't get from the life you let yourself live.
I stand here watching you die and you love to tell me how I don’t know
But the sad thing is I know I could be you.
It's something I feel every day that I’m afraid to do.
My life is nothing like yours and I can’t even compare.
You pass out in the doorway and never wash your hair.
When I met you my body began to attack itself
And I tried to remind you of what love could feel like
But the cold in your chest could never love back
Because I don't think you know what it feels like to begin with.
So starved for food, for love, for purpose that you treat it all like a myth.
I tell you it's not healthy and you try to convince me you're not human.
You act extra trying to convince me you're an extraterrestrial
But I’m expecting to one day soon attend your burial.
You scare me with how dead you want to be.
I’ve made jokes about dying but it's never something I planned to see.
Here you are digging your bed and filling such pain in your head.
The alcohol is your next demon and it's the swimming pool you'll live in
Regardless of the drugs or cigarettes because I know sobriety is not your strong suit.
The ice may overtake your body but the river will flood your mind
And it's not the kind of problem you can fix by being a brute.
You try to fight away all the words and all the eyes you attract
Because I don't think you can handle if the words are a fact.
The medical world is focused on our elders and their dementia or Alzheimer’s disease
But I feel like it's worth stating that alcoholism or your addiction is on the level of these.
People my age are drinking and smoking until they forget.
They forget themselves and the ones they love because they want to escape everything they feel is a threat.
You'll wake up shaking and crying about the pain you're in but not remember the night you lived,
All the fun you might have had or the horror you might have inflicted is lost by the time you awoke and writhed in agony.
All my words are dead and I can't revive them again to try to remind you of something you never learned.
You can't remember anything and you wonder why I’m concerned.
You're living with a disease and it feels like a lie to say you're even living.
Your happiness is not in a bag and not in a bottle because those thrills are unforgiving.
I wish you'd listen to me.
I know you're lying if you say you're free.
I didn't want to fix him because i know that's not possible. i just wanted to help wake him up
Natassia Serviss Sep 2017
I can feel my cavity pulling.
My empty heart is just aching.
The scale for my mind has tipped
And my nerves are shaking as they ripped.
My numb months screamed towards an echo of my past.
Now my body is rumbling in a pulse that never went so fast.
My hard drive is freezing because his dial turned to frost
But his hands warm my heart and pull me back from feeling lost.
After traveling back to the nest I live to leave,
I forget the ease of life he would make me believe.
We're in the shadows now because of reasons I wasn't aware
And how do I alert of this piercing dream I’ve hidden with prayer?
A faith where I don't know what I trust.
A faith where I wish for love or I wish to be dust.
Let me know where we stand
Because he has my heart in his hand.
While I’m bad at love I know I put it there,
Every little bump or rip or tear.
I don't know if I trust him not to destroy me again;
For the first time in his arms but not my first burnt patch of skin.
My fire for them would consume this knowledge away
But I’ve always known how to extinguish this flame I have for the cliché.
I don't want to hurt this way.
It feels similar but so different
Natassia Serviss Nov 2017
There was once a time
when nothing went right
I was all alone in my little world
Then there was this odd little girl.
She lived in Nevada, and I thought that maybe i otta get to know her.
We talked and talked, lots of jokes and all the caps lock.

Her name was Christine,
She was so far away but we clicked the first day.
I only knew her from what I saw on a screen,
But she was one of my best friends.
And She is one that i can depend on.

Never did I always get my way,
But she always made me feel better.
I'd have a rough day,
And she'd tell me a joke or write a funny letter.
Yea sure she was cyber,
but she made me into a fighter.
And to this day I can only thank her.
for giving me faith in a cure.

Her name was Christine,
She was so far away but we clicked the first day.
I only knew her from what I saw on a screen,
But she was one of my best friends.
And She is one that i can depend on.

I met her on the internet.
Hyper, crazy, funny, and just as broken as I was.
Regardless of reality, she's a friend that I can't forget.
Even though we've technically never even met.

Her name was Christine,
We talked in our teens.
She was into homestuck,
and censored every truck.
I'm not imagining all of the things that she's done for me,
she was my best internet friend.
And She is one that i can depend on.
I remember you Christine, but I think maybe I held onto this friendship stronger than it was when it happened. Still, I cherish this poem because while I don't remember why I wrote it I can imagine how much of a blessing you must have been to me then in 2012
Natassia Serviss Sep 2017
Honey vibes and honey eyes
Were my only compromise.
Now I see through hazel sky's.
Sunset dreams of my inner screams.
We'd live out my emerald schemes.
Photo in live to post the moments that will always survive.
What scares me most in this chemical high
Is that I know your memory will never die.
I could look at him and write poems all day. I hope it stays that way.
Natassia Serviss Jun 2022
It would be when the air would feel like silk or like the hues were almost brighter.
It was when the hills felt lower and the low felt lighter.
In the speckles of day when I would sing to the tune of another’s brass,
Somehow my daydreams would still hold a conversation with you.
You’d saunter in with kindness and class;
The kind of attitude that sometimes I wish I had.
Your tone and diction were hard to imagine,
They lacked the luster and the passion.
They were all the corridors to every phrase.
They were all the oddities I wanted to praise.
I can feel the wax melt from my wings with just the thought of knowing you in abundance.
You are a Sun to my sand with a depth I should never learn.
You’re a distance that feels relaxed and at a level I could never convince.
At your hand would I bloom into my hyacinth petals or would my roots begin to rot?
Would I compliment your warmth by offering a place to rest or would my minerals begin to harden into a glass for my next cathedral?
It’s necessity the keeps the unknown locked in a mental maze that which I have mending to wrought.
Still, my stargazing will end when I fall.
Those feathers left to remind me of how little about you I’ve ever actually known;
And yet how bittersweet to imagine having ever flown.
Dreams of an Icarus, yet I don’t know which of us he is.
Natassia Serviss Apr 2017
You make me feel numb
Every emotion there is in this world
And I feel just one.
I had felt alive with the stars in my eyes.
The lyrics to those songs I sang along,
The ones that began to cry about how their lives went wrong.
I didn't relate or even compare my time
Then one day you wrote those words to me.
How am I supposed to react when you say you don't love me?
My heart in my chest then my heart in my hand
Which you took in the moment unplanned.
Why start future that you didn't want?
I can't understand how someone can look at me with this love, this taunt.
Even when you're gone I can feel you near haunting the hallways in my mind.
The numb corridor echoes my cries out of my eyes.
Why?
My heart was beating faster than i knew how to handle.
My dreams were sweeter than they had ever been behind my wall.
You broke down my door with this lie, a waste of my time.
Now those lyrics i heard are burned in with every rhyme
I didn't do anything wrong but here I am with this pain in my chest,
This dull pulling ache which drains my emotions even at their best.
What do we gain from this?
All I have left is the numbness and the feelings that I miss.
I felt really low then, I didn't think I could feel like that again.
Natassia Serviss Nov 2017
I was put here for a reason
One day I'll find my calling
There will be one day that I'll seize
I'll do what I said I would
I'll be the person I said I'd be
Maybe I'll do something good
Maybe I'll help someone like me
I haven't figured it out
Maybe I'll stand the ground that someone else once stood
Maybe I'll become more than I see
but life isn't about the plan
We make these goals
and we think up these lives
We aren't in control
We'll set out to achieve these dreams
Maybe that's not what's going to happen
when everything is ripped at the seams
we're reborn in a way that we didn't expect
I want to be a lawyer
I want to be a musician
I want to be someone's hero
I want to start a revolution
I don't know
Maybe I'll do something good
Maybe I'll help someone like me
I haven't figured it out
Maybe I'll stand the ground that someone else once stood
Maybe I'll become more than I see
my plans will fall apart
my goals will change
I'll lose what I had at the start
everything will be strange
but one day I'll be the person I want to be
I'll be important to someone
I'll do something good
I'll be the person that is more than I see
I'll make people happy to know me.
Made in 2013 and to now I still relate. Maybe I'll be something I can be proud of some day
Natassia Serviss Apr 2017
The thought of your touch burning through my skin.
I look into your eyes and it feels like I could fall in.
Empty words from your mouth but I can't listen.
The weight of your jaw hangs higher than mine.
I can feel my body thawing as I live in fire.
My home is a haunted house owned by a beautiful liar.
We spend what feels like an eternity before I expire.
Time never moved as fast when I was on fire.
It just proves that your love made me insatiable
In a world unstable.
Now I crave the heat more than I craved the earth.
My home in the dirt can't keep me warm
Because on my skin is your haunting burn.
Natassia Serviss Nov 2017
Hour by hour the moon continues to rise.
She's way too bright and he's as dark as night.
Oh what big lies you live.
Why are you both so deceiving?
Oh look how hard it is to forgive.
Where's your excuse for leaving?
Run away, get away before he swallows your sanity.
She's built her argument on vanity.
You found love in the darkest parts,
The place where you can't have a heart.
She built it on a dream and a delusion.
He grew out of that plot and that illusion.
She loved him true, the only love she ever knew.
In her safest hour on his dimmest day, all she wanted was for him to pay.
He meant no harm and she did no wrong.
We know they hurt and they're not strong.
Little red, my friend,
there is no need to pretend that you didn't know this would eventually end.
At least in fact, you're both still intact.
You're not the victim and you're not the villain.
Both born of moon and light, they would always fight.
Now the wolf and red are in separate beds.
Their story together is a memory.
Another 2013 poem, written about a toxic relationship my friends were in.
Natassia Serviss May 2017
You're a full moon
That illuminates my car at night.
We could have a love like Bonnie and Clyde.
You could steal my heart and I could try to steal yours.
No one knows the rhythm and hums you play behind closed doors.
We could make music together
And maybe the world would treat us better.
You'll lose your toes and what's left of your mind
While I marry a man who leaves me so easy to find.
Behind bars we dream of the other
Or the love for our fathers and mothers.
We start with our bullets in cases
But they get blown into the wrong places.
Now with the holes in our chests that we could fill with the love of another,
We sit and hold together as our bodies waste because we wanted to love each other.
I had been so afraid of the dark
But with my moon in the sky I could see my mark.
With my eyes closed and my head on your shoulder,
I couldn't imagine us getting older.
Started googling Bonnie and Clyde the other day to read up on their history and I keep thinking about it.
Natassia Serviss Jul 2017
Maybe if you hold me closer,
Tighter than you've ever held,
You could hold in all my fears
And all the bad words I’ve yelled.
You could keep together my pieces
And make me feel whole again
But we both know you’re not glue
And you can’t close the cracks in my skin.
You wouldn’t be a permanent solution
But I could at least feel complete
If you could lay me like concrete.
Maybe I’ll last longer and be functioning
Knowing one day a crack will break me apart.
I just hope by then I’ll learn to let the earth beat its heart
And I’ll have flowers growing from my faults in spring.
You know I love the weeds,
So I hope I become a home to the grass and flowers we don’t let grow.
I’ll be the ground that feeds
And I’ll be the land you can’t mow.
I won’t move and I’ll let my shattered pieces breathe new
Because you may have helped me not feel broken but maybe being broken is what I was meant to do.
I don't want to find someone to fix me because I don't think that's a thing that really exists for people.
Natassia Serviss Nov 2017
There's something about your style and the way that you smile.
You're bright and free and then there is little ol' me.
You could take the world if you wanted.
Step on whoever and never be haunted.
If I choose to be the rain to your sunshine would you knock me off and say that you're fine?
Why is it only me who can see.
You're not a god,
You're not a king,
You're just a boy and flawed like the rest.
How about you play another song about love
and pretend it's not about yourself.
You don't know love but I wish you knew humility.
Now I've the inability to forget and forgive
your arrogant attempts to lead.
Oh I remember you Mr. Modest, you're hard to forget. Written in 2012.
Natassia Serviss Apr 2017
I was half asleep in my bed with nothing but dreams filling my head.
My mom was working on her computer while the house slept around her.
On the porch was my dad, smoking his pack and watching the sun rise while the outside cats searched for a bug to attack.
Then there was a shuffle and a big roar as seven to ten men burst through the door.
All while yelling and pointing their guns did they lower us to our knees.
No kings for to kneel but what do you do when they yell freeze?
A gun on my chest and a pair to my side that which never shot my body but the wounds were almost implied.
Thrown to the ground in a single motion, these men shackled my hands behind me.
They walked me past my mom frozen in fear.
On our lawn, we sat just after dawn for our neighbors to watch our house get raided by men in SWAT gear.
The day ended with no clear finish but the problem went dormant for a day or two.
Next, he was taken out of the blue.
We bought him back for a few months more before we let him leave us with the kind of void you can’t ignore.
Everything started to break without him.
One by one our house fell apart and so did we.
I heard my mom cry every night just begging for him to be free.
21 months predicted they said and he got out 3 early for good behavior.
18 months until you are free again they said, 18 months to try to not end up dead.
Forever branded for something that doesn’t make sense to me.
Forever reminded of what he had to see.
He’s home now but I can’t say he’s free, because he didn’t deserve this.
We didn’t deserve this.
Our home is dead.
They didn’t wound a body but they killed the happy thoughts in our head.
That house is a reminder, that house is not a home.
All the fear and the sadness that lives in those walls.
The days we spent waiting for his calls.
We weren’t alive.
All we were able to do was survive.
We all made it out of that entire ******* year and a half, and now I spend all my time just trying to make my family laugh or smile.
I’ll be ****** if I have to watch them cry again.
To be honest, I’m afraid.
I’m hopeful.
I know deep in my soul that this was ******* and that my dad is not a criminal.
My house is better now. It almost feels like a bad dream.
Natassia Serviss Nov 2017
I don't feel like I'm awake
Every word seems hard to take.
I'm stuck in this routine.
I'm stuck running in this bad dream.
My thoughts are twisting and my wishes changing.
What I wanted isn't what I got and
Everything just makes me feel like I was shot.
Like my chest is bleeding out.
This numb feeling overcoming me.
It's all just a bad dream with an exit I cant find.
I wake up every morning feeling like a ghost
And I spend my days haunting everywhere I go
I'm not really there and I'm not seen by most.
I'd say I'm invisible but some unlucky souls
Still manage to see me wandering alone.
It's not like I made this choice.
It's not like someone caused me to lose my voice.
It's just something about this feeling.
Everything just feels so fake.
I really don't think I'm awake.
And at some point I pray that I'm right.
2013 was a dark time for me apparently. I forgot about these poems.
Natassia Serviss Jun 2022
It’s been so many sweltering months.
I still choke at the smell of pine and cloves.
These scars are growing after I end all these hunts.
You can see the bruises on my neck and the carving on my bones.
Each individual finger and each single tooth.
They embed into my being as I try to mend what you broke.
My foundation rebuilt with my basement of truth.
It’s there that I have to wander through smoke.
It’s there that I crawled through the blood and despondency.
So desperately trying to maintain a hollow connection to someone so lecherous.
You stripped me of my color; of my effervescence.
What once were gilded rays turned to acid showers.
My skin began to boil and my heart began to spoil.
I ripped myself apart to keep you whole.
You threw my pieces aside like they never mattered.
You had no plan, no goal.
Instead of a future so lovely and lavish you abandoned me hopeless and tattered.
After swelling to the poison in your silence, I finally understand who you wouldn’t let me be.
Now I know them, and I hate what you did to me.
It’s that time of year where I remember why I left that place
Natassia Serviss Nov 2017
When I look upon my path
All I can see is light
I feel a beating in my chest
But it's never felt quite right
The sounds will echo in my hollow head
The sounds will remain until I'm dead
An opportunity to climb the ladder
A door opened with success in sight
My heart can't help but feel sadder
My lungs run out of air
The will to continue has always been my swear
But what can I do when my legs go numb
When the thought of being without makes me feel bare
My hands will sweat
My heart will race and in that moment I'll care
Still I won't know
And maybe I'll never feel what I've imagined
And maybe I'll remain too scared to tell what happened
I'm privileged
I'm supported
But that's not going to change it
That feeling of hatred
That inadequacy
I'll still feel like a ghost
I'll still feel wasted.
Those dreams of warmth
My dreams of hope
They leave a crack in me
They leave a hole of frost behind
I need that warmth
Because maybe in time I'll be less than anyone can see
That's not a promise or a threat
It's my prediction
It's my fear that I'll never forget
I was really focused on doing good then. Something I can still relate to. Written in 2013
Natassia Serviss Dec 2017
Cradled minds in ruptured beds.
My twisted dreams run through my head.
Rear-end crashes with dark lit chases.
It's been so long since they showed my races.
Pavlov concepts in my daily words.
I try to conceal my dreams because they could build swords.
You’d cut me down if I spoke the wrong things,
It'd be my fault because I gave away my wings.
I want to be grounded here next to you.
I lived for my mother and father and sometimes I lived through.
I lived for the sunlight rising in windows.
Sadness crept into every smile in my photos.
Swept in from the wind you came riding.
Still despairing I greeted you with what I knew about flying.
Hoping you stay with me through the days.
Now I live for the lovely words you might say.
On top of my heart will rest this book of fears,
The pages are tattered and ancient.
Full of such terrors that escape me only in the darkness of your bed,
These horrors that I thought would only leave me when I was dead.
I know I don't live for you.
I know I love you.
This nightmare became an adventure the second I saw the sun.
Resting was in the daytime to save me from the darkness that had always won.
Steel made from my chest.
Iron into only the best.
I hope you take these weapons I forged without you.
This ammunition for the machine that rippled through my senses.
The blades that butterfly my heart with every syllable I accidentally utter,
Such wings that will never flutter.
I hope all these mines I plant are ones you can see.
I hope you never use these weapons on me.
sometimes i talk too long about nothing at all that means nothing but might mean something to someone else and I've never learned when to not incriminate myself. I don't live for you, yet.
Natassia Serviss Jul 2022
My lips hold back the lava in my chest.
The burning, consuming, encroaching destruction is hardening my resolve more than you could have guessed.
I feel so at home in the flames that water is so underwhelming.
It’s the coals I sleep on through everything.
To look so long at the light only to blind myself each time;
You’d think I’d learn my lesson after each rhyme.
I’ve never felt comfort for long enough to recall.
The videos of me laughing are something that now make me bawl.
I don’t know how that feels anymore.
I don’t remember what you sound like or the color of your front door.
Your voice no longer echoes in my head.
Your face no longer plagues me in bed.
I don’t know you outside of memories;
Moments of my time that bite like fleas.
You make me itch still,
A symptom that which the spot can never refill.
I’ve been battling between anger and grief for so long now.
It’s a why; it’s a how.
It’s a feeling I can’t live without.
No matter how hard I try to erase the pressure or smother the intensity, the kindling always relights in this drought.
With a deep breath in, releasing all the smoke back out.
It’s my meditation now.
It’s my medication now.
To smell it on someone else and be engrossed in the poison that this can allow;
My dear, that’s intoxicating for me lately.
A mass we are swallowing with the passing moment cornering us innately.
I don’t partake with my own vessel but I will consume a host so absorbed.
They don’t see me molding my character every time I get bored.
One day I will have the entire puzzle lined up together.
Each piece fitted so perfectly, completely combined in a tether.
They will compose a tale so broken and numb.
That’s the feeling that fills my ****** drum.
Every tear is a bad dream.
Every eyelash is a wish for this story to have a different theme.
I’ve been feeling heavy
Natassia Serviss Oct 2017
I know who I am.
I don’t need your label.
I don’t need your words.
I have my own.
Your voice like stones,
I can feel my bones wither.
You have nothing left so away you slither.
My reality is not lost,
I am only free.
Passed are the feelings abased;
I am freer than such a measly flea.
My skin freshly pierced,
I have felt pain that which you know no name.
Returned am I.
Reborn am I.
Lasting through the past that left me to cry.
A past where I would rather die.
Your stones may have sunk my body that was something more of a pseudonym
but my dear,
I’ve always known how to swim.
I wrote this on a KFC bag when I ate lunch alone today.
Natassia Serviss Apr 2022
It’s red and burnt and there’s nothing more beautiful.
You look like an oasis.
I feel myself melting the second I see your face.
It’s like I’m baking in this oven and there’s nothing more lovely.
You smell like all of my favorite foods with a voice like honey.
You wear my favorite color well and with every passing moment I can feel my heart swell.
I find myself aching to see you smile and to make you laugh.
I would love for you to be as fond of me as I have grown of you even if the feeling is only at half.
When the trumpets roar I feel this sense of peace and I think of the words you say so little yet they leave me building these cathedrals of utterance about you.
There lay no cracks or puddles of grease;
The glasswork is blazing and brilliant with how you attract my attention.
I would build for you a place that displays the warmth I feel that I forbear to mention.
You’re enchanting,
Something to look forward to,
And someone my heart won’t let me forget.
This impression has lasted since the day we met.
After something substantial ends it almost feels like this is something to begin
Natassia Serviss Aug 2022
I know myself better than you.
In my heart there is a banshee waiting to drown themselves on the shores of a beach covered in discarded glass.
Her body ragged, bruised, and gaunt in every view.
She’s sharp and harsh with every cut that may pass.
Her hair obscures her eyes with a taupe wash of strands.
She pierces into the tiny drums with a venom only meant to break my spirit and erode past the bones.
Into my soul she will cut with those talons on her hands.
I can’t progress without her because she is my cornerstone.
My foundation would collapse without her haunting inside.
She’s seen my cracks and my missing parts.
Instead of leaving me numb she waters my plants.
Together we craft love and we create art.
She raised the goblin in my head to laugh and dance.
He leads us through her pain.
It’s something that helps me smile no matter how heavy the rain.
He swallows the flames we light each day or eliminates the obstacles in our way.
His skin so full and flushed;
It contrasts so greatly with her hair unbrushed.
His eyes so clear, bright, and colorful.
I can feel the joy radiate so extensively.
What he gives so soft like the silky breeze she echoes back with a call so guttural.
I always valued him more so selfishly.
There would be no him without her.
There would be no parts in me without the parts I don’t prefer.
So before you tell me that I’m intense or too much;
I hope you see how important they both are inside.
They are more than the things you can see or touch.
They are every laugh that I’ve had or every tear that I’ve cried.
I don’t need you to believe that I am the right amount between too much and just enough for you.
I believe in my own beauty and wholeness; we all do.
I care more about my opinion of myself than I do of theirs
Natassia Serviss Sep 2018
Take my tongue and speak my new chorus,
Let my skin absorb this.
Shoot down my hopes from the skies above.
Let me drown in the oils from the place I want to be free of.
Brand my thigh with the rods of this fire.
Resting deep down inside my chest with the resent for the new pyre;
Breaking the bones of my collar that shine blue in luxury.
Shaping my future back into a void from discovery.
Eat my heart from the rips in my company.
I let this story in,
I let the wheels spin;
Like the youth yelling a wasted truth.
When the effort outweighs the gain;
As if the world exists to let you drive the wrong lane.
To fight any adversity,
Even if there is no such thing that exists blocking their sea.
The waves keep crashing and they create more violent drops.
This world won’t allow their daily hobbies to evade natures stops;
Crafting the clouds is difficult when you use such ugly means.
Purpose is lost when you let your life live behind your amphetamines.
thats how its spelled in the name

— The End —