I now know that the person who breaks up the relationship has it the worst. When there is no real cause, no true animosity or reason, except that you feel like you can't believe that you've gotten this far, but how can this keep going when you have no ******* idea who the two of you are? No one ever tells you that you are left with all of pieces of the broken relationship. That there is no ammunition to get over a person, except the self loathing you feel towards yourself. You spiral down from feeling like it was the right choice, to
wondering
why
you
even
broke up with them in the first place. And the jealousy, oh god the jealousy, it spills into your blood stream every time you thirstily grab at a blush, no make that light green, or even deep red colored bottle- does it even matter- you've tasted it every. day. of. the. week.
These pieces, they are scattered in places and in forms you would never expect them to be. You reach and try to grasp at the grey hazy spiraling memories with your hands, but they are always ever
so slightly out of
reach.
You look at the mirror, looking at an unrecognizable face, pity rotting upon it, dragging you down like a ship drowned by the relentless wrench of the sea. Can you even blame anyone but yourself? You don't deserve to heal.
Jan 5, 2016
Jan 5, 2016 at 6:58 PM UTC
the average human
describes their heartbeat
as a thud-thud or a few
rough pats to the chest.
i fall asleep with my ear
pressed up against your
chest. all i can hear is the
echo of a captain yelling,
"let me sink...let me sink..."
i ask you how you would
describe your heartbeat,
you point to the ship
in the bottle mounted on
your father's bookshelf
& faintly say
*"the glass bottle keeps the
ship from sinking, completely
blocking out the captain's wish
to learn how to breathe
underwater because air just
isn't doing its job with keeping
him alive."*
your break up letter to me
went a little something like;
**"you were built in the fire,
stop acting like you burn in it.
you were never made to be fragile,
you were never made to be my glass."**
my plead for you to stay
went a little something like;
(20) Missed Calls
your final goodbye
went a little something like;
a thud thud to the pavement.
& my final goodbye was
cracking open a bottle on your
headstone & standing in the sea
with the water rising up to
my knees, with a small ship in
the palm of my hand, a dunk
underneath the tide & a faint
whisper, "breathe."
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 12:46 AM UTC
and as you lay on my bed I look at you and want to throw away all of the wishes I spent on shooting stars and change that rattled in my pockets begging to be thrown in a well
just for you
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 1:04 AM UTC
But you deserve this, Nicole.
This shaken child that you now behold.
All your actions and desires brought you to this point
and the rest of your life you and your born out of sin child
will pay the price.
But, thank you for making this happen, for stealing everything less than a man away
from me, I was blinded- holding him high on a pedestal, because he was someone I though to be my love and best friend.
No more than cowards, loving each other forever. Merely 11 months in you let this everything less than a man shake your child. But remember, everything leads up to the moments we are now living and this is your life.
Feb 10, 2014
Feb 10, 2014 at 6:11 AM UTC
Have fun in Cali, with who knows who.
I wanted you to be here today-
I wanted you to be here for thanksgiving
I wanted you to be here for my 18th birthday
but really, I wanted you to be here everyday, dad.
A year has past from when I wrote this... I maybe saw you three times in between then.....
and now.
I could guess you had at least 15 girlfriends in that time. You said you would drive up from
Boise to see me on my birthday, but it passes and it seems
that Moscow
is far from Kentucky.
Till next year.... I guess.
Dec 24, 2013
Dec 24, 2013 at 6:04 AM UTC
It's not like I would of taken you back
but it's sad that there was no fight in you to even try
If out of everything, that is what hurts the worst.
It's every girls dream to have the guy who hurt her,
and maybe my views are a little ****** up and twisted because I've
watched too many sappy love stories at night, to do something courageous
for her.
Not just flowers or an I'm sorry but a full on play music outside my window on a lawn mower
or something.
Something more than doing nothing.
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 6:38 AM UTC
What has happened to the souls from before us?
Thousands of years ago, do they haunt this earth or did their "God"
lead them to salvation or pass their soul onto the next through reincarnation?
Will our cities be ruins, like the Mayans, another lost civilization.
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 6:22 AM UTC
Poetry should go for a walk at night
Through the park
lay in the due sprinkled grass
and gaze up at the sky lit by stars and a Hunter's Moon
With you
Poetry should put on a crimson red dress
With blackened leather boots
And sing for all of the ladies and gentlemen
Who drove for miles just too hear her voice
Poetry should put on her blue and white polka dotted galoshes
Dance in the rain and jump in puddles with the kids
and let the rain drizzle upon her head
With not a care if she gets wet
Poetry should sit down and curl up by the fire
sip some hot chamomile tea
And read a captivating book that Richard Tyler would befriend
Until she drifts into sleep
Poetry should paint you a picture of love
One that starts with a smile, blue sky's, the brine flavored ocean
And ends with your lips running across my chest
while my hands caress the nape of your neck
and yours entwine with the tangles of my hair
Poetry should make the colors of the leaves turn
as clouds creep into the sky leaving a blanket of crystals on the ground
Poetry should thaw out your forgotten memories
that froze like the once trickling creek
so you can know that every second is worth while
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 1:35 AM UTC
You know though,
it still hurts
and it's still ****** up
and life goes on
and I mean I loved you, god I loved you.
But time has gone by, **** it's been going by so fast.
Two winters ago I would have never even
questioned us, even if it was me from the future
I still would have ignored myself.
Just a fool that was played and how can
other people go through this all the time?
And I guess you got your wish. A child at the young age of 20,
something that a once 17 year old girl should not have to give.
I don't mean to sound like a girl that
had her heart broken, because really
love is something that I never wanted to dabble in
and I do not want to be weak, sad, and pathetic.
This doesn't seem like poetry to me and it's because
my inspiration has been torn out. But here is a plot twist: I think
I hate nicole more.
Sep 23, 2013
Sep 23, 2013 at 5:51 AM UTC
"Fill me up, steam me up, hear me shout, tip me over and poor me out. Poor me out on the concrete, next to your feet. Do I have to cry? How can you hear me? Oh, Just to be with you"
I want to scream at the top of my lungs,
Oh, please notice me.
Don't call me man or bro....
It breaks my heart everytime.
I look at you and think of the times we have
spent together, few, but amazing.
And after them, how can you see me just as a friend?
How can you pull me close and dig your face into my neck
and not think I don't want more? You fell asleep in my arms as
we watching the lightning. How many hits can I take?
I feel bliss around you and all I want to do is kiss you,
but I fear if I tried you would deny me and say that you don't share the same
love for me as I do you.
"You look at me holding on to a dream that filled me long ago, but I'm still wating. I'm still holding on"
Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 10:18 PM UTC