My voice
sure was flawed
Too much of nothing
can lubricate just enough
of something to claim
some soul from the
darkest well of the heart
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 12:39 AM UTC
I am not a ******* painting
that hangs in your room
Waiting to be admired by you
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 10:04 PM UTC
50 years from now
I want to see the lines in your face look like the map of the trail we walked and talked on happily in love walking through the different paths
life has drawn for
us
My dear I want to look in your eyes when you're terrified to die and I want to know the only reason you're afraid is because I can't be by your side
I want to be able to watch the river flow from your eyes so I can tell you it's okay to cry because I love you
and if you die I can't wait to die
so you won't be sitting alone
in that grave because I will be by
your side
I want your laugh to rain echoes
in my ears the way it did
for 50 years
I want to sit by your bed retelling
our stories to you the good and the bad talking of all
the love we had
I want you to be my favorite poem
the way your smile would send shivers into my bones because every single day it feels like I'm home and
I want you to know that I never planned to love you
I never planned to know
you or want to hold you
the way I do
I want you to know that sometimes I look in your eyes and I swear to god If there was a god I would pray everyday at the top of my lungs for giving me voice to be able to tell you I love you
In 50 years I hope the phrase
"I love you "
has filled to the top overflowing turning into an overwhelming ocean instead of just a book that explains what the phrase I love you really means
I want you to know that if you ever promise me forever
I will slap you in the face because
let's face this
There is no forever, time may never die but people wither and crumble due to experience but until the end of my days I hope that this stays and
I hope I have you.
How funny that I am filled with hope for us as my middle name by birth is hope
it's like my life was strategically strung together for me to trail through a forest of ******** to meet you and nearly believe in angels because I cannot stress enough how you are cleaning the mess of me.
In 50 years and I want you to remember this poem when I say I love you.
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 4:19 AM UTC
I keep trying to piece together
a functioning poem but nothing
is fitting the way I need it to
I guess it's a symbol of my mind
Or anything having to do with me
I have pieces of unfinished business floating in my notepad
all I can do is write the episodes of my life that flash in my mind
I didn't pay for a drive through movie
but I got in free
except it's all things
that've happened to me
A showcase of my emotions
over the years plastered in my mind
on a giant screen
I don't ignore you
I want to hear every word
you speak so I never forget them
but how do I explain
"I didnt hear what you said
I was watching the episode
of when I broke his heart
the morning after his birthday
I'm sorry will you repeat that?"
I always loved picture frames
as a child thinking they could hold some precious moment I never had
Childhood
more like a broken swing set
in an abandoned park
If little me only knew
I would be walking around
with thoughts of you
I have a list of things that replay
in my mind and I fear it will never stop
I am an abandoned house that is only filled with pictures of my memories
Sometimes I feel so fragile
I think if you were to hold my hand
it would shatter
The paint is peeling from my walls
and there are holes in my floorboards and after walking in the dark
of my house for so long
i believe I've fallen through
one of them
My only hope is when the
sun finally rises I can crawl out
to reconstruct
I will replace every fried wire
and every broken board
I will paint and furnish
until my head is my home
and that doesn't sound
like a nightmare anymore
My only hope is that you can stay until I've sent every demon my way packing
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 4:09 AM UTC
There is a demon inside my ear
Whispering lies
I don't want to hear
Trying to help you understand
is the equivalent to reaching
into the dark
Only being able to grab air
Something invisible chases me
In my dreams
Something evil and hateful
I believe it is my suffering.
The grief of my experiences
that I subconsciously hold on to
You held me as it chased me
I screamed for help
Your arms
brought me back home to you
I ran my fingers
through your hair
over and over
Trying to soothe myself
I've never lost myself like that before
This is a not a poem
This is a confession
I am being consumed
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 5:25 AM UTC
my mind is nothing but quick sand
a thought gripping me
pulling me down
until I am consumed
thoughts that I do not own
tug and pull
I have never been enough
my hair is unruly
my smile is crooked
my heart is no longer whole
I am not as strong or stable
as I once was
but I will do my best to love you
and seep through your wounds
to be your antidote for any poison
that pains you
I will do my best to be
your button down coat
that keeps you comfy and warm
I will do my best for you
this sand will not swallow me
and I will dig myself out
I will be myself again
I cannot move forward
without you
when I am me, my mind
will dance with yours
the way my body does
when you move, I move with you
maybe then I will be enough
Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 8:33 AM UTC
I fill myself with people
and beds
and long conversations
and connection
there is a girl
the shallow shell
of who I once was
the half of me
filled with
melancholy
she's always trying
to liven up
and warm
her dull eyes
eating people whole
enjoying until it spoils
why do I always
make
things
spoil
so quickly?
I recall a story
of a nameless monster
he too
ate people whole
ending up always
needing
more
each person
could not fill
the hunger
of emptiness
but in the end
he ate
his other half
I have realized
you cannot fill your suffering
with people
for they rot
digest into grains of sand
and you end up empty
once again
maybe if I swallow
my sadness I
could be full
maybe sadness isn't cold
maybe it is the only heat
that would hold
these worn bones
maybe it is only cold
until you accept it
maybe then I would look
a little more warm
a little more lively
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 5:39 PM UTC
the moon is as longing
as I am to be the brightest
in an ocean of darkness
speckled with billions
of smudges of light
but does the moon get tired?
is that why its in love with the ocean, drowning itself
in the water every night?
do you think someone
paints your mirror?
that the color of your reflection
isn't you?
do your conversations seem
one sided?
do you realize the only
person talking
is you?
isn't there something brighter
some type of tranquil light
better than the moon at night
that can wake the dark parts
of the sidewalk to light
so I don't step into them
so I sleep right at night
everyone knows
I have a fear of the dark
It reminds me of tar
It reminds me of my mind
It reminds me of my sinking
It reminds me of your drinking
It reminds me of the *******
It reminds me
of the empty
spaces
in my chest
that are not empty,
they are somehow filled
with nothingness
It reminds me of
the feeling
when I reach out
to grab you
and my hand
cant grasp you
can't make you understand
can't make you see what's
happening to me
how I am drowning
In something invisible
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 4:33 PM UTC
you asked me why I smoke
as frequent as I do
but what do you do
to satisfy
a longing
that could never
be expressed?
there are many things
I wish I could tell you
but
I inhale
my
every
intention
to speak
why do most want a
love that is detrimental?
a love that shatters
your teeth
as you try to speak
a love that inflicts
a stream of butterflies
or makes you appear
as if you've had
too much caffeine
by the way your
delicate
being
shakes
I have shaken
and clamped
my tongue this time
to stop the promises
from leaking out
I decline to drink coffee
so you don't believe
I'm quivering with words
unspoken
I decline to mention
that I dream of your face
in the future looking worn
from every obstacle
we have hurdled through
in our years
I decline to mention
every morning that
you're softly breathing sleep
I hold your face
and softly mumble
"mine"
I decline to mention
my excess of
"I love you's"
is caused by an
unshakable longing
to promise a forever.
but why?
why does it seem so
unattainable
why do I reject the thought of
a promise to you
for
something
so
precious?
I am tired of shaking
I am tired of a placebo
I'm tired of over used
empty apologies
I'm tired of reminiscing
remembering
" I will always love you"
"forever"
I am tired of my lovers thoughts
being elsewhere
I am tired
I am worn
my butterflies have turned
into the
ash
I flick
off
my
cigarettes
I used to write novels
for the people in my life
I've loved until I saw how
empty
others were
while doing the same
I used to whisper "I love you"
and sweet meanings.
I have experienced
the truly empty
of this world
I have loved
the damaged
the angry
the sad
and
the broken
they spoke a hollow shell
of the same words
i purred with meaning
Suddenly
I lost
my appetite
for
forever
Mar 25, 2015
Mar 25, 2015 at 7:17 PM UTC
a waking so timeless,
where we lose our fingernails
as we claw each other
and rain; the rain glittering
along it's fundament, glittering
along our... let's just say
that there is a universe of
silver linings in the eaves and a
scent of leaves in this silence,
this dust is ours only
we dig deep
into golden phrases,
while finding screaming skin
breaking slowly into air,
an electrocution
focused on our loves;
we dig deep
into pits of our
broken hearts
surprised
we are so apart somehow
there is an electricity
that pulls the dust back,
together.
the static,
the floor was a blanket
your smile, a fire escape
the static in the air
the wine glasses neglected,
we drank from the bottle
Mar 25, 2015
Mar 25, 2015 at 3:33 AM UTC