alex-cassidy - Hello Poetry

The television was on a loop playing a recording of Natural Born Killers Our bodies and their contents laid naked and honest over the sheets He breathed so heavily beside me I could not say He was not there The crack in the window whistled cool air and the radiator over compensated at 80 degrees Fahrenheit, making the room an even 70. The kitchen light was on. The guest room light was on. It was 5:10 in the morning Too soon for the sun to overwhelm the hollow artificial light I put on a shirt that I left there weeks ago It smelled like his cigarette smoke I brushed my teeth until the sink cloged, brimming with water and swirls of foamy yellow spit. Lying with you after that cleansing reminded me of the first time I really saw poverty. No facade, no escape Too different to empathize When he wakes up he’ll smile and touch me, he’ll say, “Hi, Baby”, even though I’m not Baby. Those particular thoughts moved me with a bottomless felling, So I got up. Making my way to the kitchen, I turned off the light in the guest room Not everything can shine Somehow the kitchen always feels like the center of a home Maybe because food is a thing that comes before love The Donner’s loved. Every inch of the kitchen was coated in foody grime There was dirt down to every inch, in every crack Nothing, not even the child could convince him to wipe it away. That home felt small around us I felt overstayed If he woke up from deep sleep while I packed the few things I own I know his eyes would tell me he didn’t understand His protest would be angry He would beg I’d feel shameful but excited There is no justification to stay where boxes half-stored and lazy intrude into your limited space, Where the kitchen grows a layer of filth every time it greets you, Where the walls close in every early morning when you get up for work and you do the dishes in the quiet. The roses on the floor didn’t protest loudly, But they insisted that I crawl back into bed where I belong “You’re depressed, It will pass again,” they said. The mercy he showed my flaws, the laughs we shared, his desperation and admiration, his love even though he recoiled, jaded when I couldn’t match him. None of it could keep me there that morning

0

Feb 22, 2014

Feb 22, 2014 at 9:54 PM UTC

alex-cassidy

Kris with a K

The television was on a loop playing a recording of Natural Born Killers Our bodies and their contents laid naked and honest over the sheets He breathed so heavily beside me I could not say He was not there The crack in the window whistled cool air and the radiator over compensated at 80 degrees Fahrenheit, making the room an even 70. The kitchen light was on. The guest room light was on. It was 5:10 in the morning Too soon for the sun to overwhelm the hollow artificial light I put on a shirt that I left there weeks ago It smelled like his cigarette smoke I brushed my teeth until the sink cloged, brimming with water and swirls of foamy yellow spit. Lying with you after that cleansing reminded me of the first time I really saw poverty. No facade, no escape Too different to empathize When he wakes up he’ll smile and touch me, he’ll say, “Hi, Baby”, even though I’m not Baby. Those particular thoughts moved me with a bottomless felling, So I got up. Making my way to the kitchen, I turned off the light in the guest room Not everything can shine Somehow the kitchen always feels like the center of a home Maybe because food is a thing that comes before love The Donner’s loved. Every inch of the kitchen was coated in foody grime There was dirt down to every inch, in every crack Nothing, not even the child could convince him to wipe it away. That home felt small around us I felt overstayed If he woke up from deep sleep while I packed the few things I own I know his eyes would tell me he didn’t understand His protest would be angry He would beg I’d feel shameful but excited There is no justification to stay where boxes half-stored and lazy intrude into your limited space, Where the kitchen grows a layer of filth every time it greets you, Where the walls close in every early morning when you get up for work and you do the dishes in the quiet. The roses on the floor didn’t protest loudly, But they insisted that I crawl back into bed where I belong “You’re depressed, It will pass again,” they said. The mercy he showed my flaws, the laughs we shared, his desperation and admiration, his love even though he recoiled, jaded when I couldn’t match him. None of it could keep me there that morning

42

I do not know poetry I know my toenails are too long. I can feel them snag on the sheets that I haven't washed. I'm out of toothpaste my teeth feel grimy, my gums raw I waited all day to see you so you could tell me that you don't like my sweater You say you don't know how to talk to people who are in pain. You are exasperated with the burden of humanity inherited by humanity You are easy when you numb yourself constantly Anger is righteous to accuse you Defense is a child who is confident All the villages you've saved but not me I remember pain I am so disappointed with your inhumanity because no one can fail but me You can read the look on my face I can tell So don't make me say things I can't Pain is a vacuum It doesn't exist in perfection In an absence of sound, even though it itself is so loud, is inaudible While I am at the bottom, God is at the top, and you are somewhere in between You are blocking the view, misleading the people You claim nothing but we demand something When I left your house I wanted to crash my car into a ditch Instead I drove home.

0

Oct 20, 2013

Oct 20, 2013 at 4:42 AM UTC

alex-cassidy

The Welcoming Committee

I do not know poetry I know my toenails are too long. I can feel them snag on the sheets that I haven't washed. I'm out of toothpaste my teeth feel grimy, my gums raw I waited all day to see you so you could tell me that you don't like my sweater You say you don't know how to talk to people who are in pain. You are exasperated with the burden of humanity inherited by humanity You are easy when you numb yourself constantly Anger is righteous to accuse you Defense is a child who is confident All the villages you've saved but not me I remember pain I am so disappointed with your inhumanity because no one can fail but me You can read the look on my face I can tell So don't make me say things I can't Pain is a vacuum It doesn't exist in perfection In an absence of sound, even though it itself is so loud, is inaudible While I am at the bottom, God is at the top, and you are somewhere in between You are blocking the view, misleading the people You claim nothing but we demand something When I left your house I wanted to crash my car into a ditch Instead I drove home.

32

noon I am surrounded by people who I cannot say are my friends, but who laugh with me. Even though things are horribly, horribly, wrong- This moment, is alright. My head, heavy and burdened with anguish is diverted My eyes flutter lightly Look up And land upon your face Vehemently, so painfully, suddenly My eyes drop As if to hide from your gaze You barely look at me, but I feel you seeing me Everything about me becomes so apparent My crude mouth, scowling My crooked teeth, yellowing My hands, fumbling and fat I drop my head in embarrassment Embarrassed to even exist When I look up, your head is down too, you are smiling to yourself You look beautiful. The folds around the corners of your mouth show all your character Your hand moves to your head, to brush a piece of hair away Every movement is fluid, and perfect Your stature radiates in its casual but sturdy slump I look at you and think back to the Statue of David, by Michelangelo To me you are a spitting image Everything inside me crumbles I feel wrong to speak to you, though I’ve know you so closely, and for so long. The fact that you acknowledge me, though you hardly do is humbling, shocking All in one instant I am both crushed and appalled by you Even without your rejection I dismiss any hopes that had lingered of our union I realize my fantasies are absurd. I could disappear in that instant Slowly fade to a solemn shade of black and never be seen again by human eyes By your eyes I wish I had never met you Wish you had never been dangled before me to lust after, long for Only to all be crushed by that span of seconds When my eyes met that smile That god ****** smile I pray that you leave until I can’t bear it anymore And when you’re finally gone, the relief is sickly Whatever you saw can’t be unseen Whatever you’ve taken from me by your eyes and your ears is now yours

0

Jan 4, 2013

Jan 4, 2013 at 9:43 PM UTC

alex-cassidy

The Statue

noon I am surrounded by people who I cannot say are my friends, but who laugh with me. Even though things are horribly, horribly, wrong- This moment, is alright. My head, heavy and burdened with anguish is diverted My eyes flutter lightly Look up And land upon your face Vehemently, so painfully, suddenly My eyes drop As if to hide from your gaze You barely look at me, but I feel you seeing me Everything about me becomes so apparent My crude mouth, scowling My crooked teeth, yellowing My hands, fumbling and fat I drop my head in embarrassment Embarrassed to even exist When I look up, your head is down too, you are smiling to yourself You look beautiful. The folds around the corners of your mouth show all your character Your hand moves to your head, to brush a piece of hair away Every movement is fluid, and perfect Your stature radiates in its casual but sturdy slump I look at you and think back to the Statue of David, by Michelangelo To me you are a spitting image Everything inside me crumbles I feel wrong to speak to you, though I’ve know you so closely, and for so long. The fact that you acknowledge me, though you hardly do is humbling, shocking All in one instant I am both crushed and appalled by you Even without your rejection I dismiss any hopes that had lingered of our union I realize my fantasies are absurd. I could disappear in that instant Slowly fade to a solemn shade of black and never be seen again by human eyes By your eyes I wish I had never met you Wish you had never been dangled before me to lust after, long for Only to all be crushed by that span of seconds When my eyes met that smile That god ****** smile I pray that you leave until I can’t bear it anymore And when you’re finally gone, the relief is sickly Whatever you saw can’t be unseen Whatever you’ve taken from me by your eyes and your ears is now yours

44

I remember when I cried everyday. In the morning, When I woke up to bleakness The vast nothingness that is space and time and people. In the afternoon, After hours of silence Painful time passing tortuously slow. In the evening, When the people surround you To pick at you with questions Murdering, merciless questions. And at night, The epitome of alone Fingers clinging to clean sheets Hysterical screaming The constant blood Begging God With nothing but the promise That tomorrow will be the same.

0

Nov 20, 2012

Nov 20, 2012 at 6:10 PM UTC

alex-cassidy

The Daily Routine of an Invisible Woman

I remember when I cried everyday. In the morning, When I woke up to bleakness The vast nothingness that is space and time and people. In the afternoon, After hours of silence Painful time passing tortuously slow. In the evening, When the people surround you To pick at you with questions Murdering, merciless questions. And at night, The epitome of alone Fingers clinging to clean sheets Hysterical screaming The constant blood Begging God With nothing but the promise That tomorrow will be the same.

21

It’s been a long time since the piles in your backyard towered. Filled up with tables and chairs, Microwaves and dryers. You never cry like you used to Before the pills When the pile was higher And your hands weren’t as rough. Some days I’d like to take those pills And add them to my own pile With the tattoos and scars The piles and piles that grow on my back The endless desert, The mountain of spine. All the places you can’t see And all the places you choose not to see. There was a time when I was afraid of you Afraid of being carelessly adopted into your pile Now I’m afraid of myself And being buried in my own.

0

Nov 8, 2012

Nov 8, 2012 at 10:10 PM UTC

alex-cassidy

The Fear of Piles Consuming

It’s been a long time since the piles in your backyard towered. Filled up with tables and chairs, Microwaves and dryers. You never cry like you used to Before the pills When the pile was higher And your hands weren’t as rough. Some days I’d like to take those pills And add them to my own pile With the tattoos and scars The piles and piles that grow on my back The endless desert, The mountain of spine. All the places you can’t see And all the places you choose not to see. There was a time when I was afraid of you Afraid of being carelessly adopted into your pile Now I’m afraid of myself And being buried in my own.

19

When I deleted myself off the face of the earth And it still spun And you were still there But I was gone How could you, how could…they Keep on I always expected one after the other you would all come crashing after me Like children playing follow the leader off a cliff Or the carts of a train jumping one after the other in rhythmic timing when the engineer, asleep at the wheel, veers off tracks and goes over the edge of the mountain Yet here I am Lone at the pit of the valley Staring up, not at the heavens as I hoped, But up at you, and your life Going onward How can you mourn me Say you ever loved me If you can go on with out me Here I am, in all your triumphant glowing glory I couldn’t even go on with you You said I was everything to you I picked up so tenderly each thought Sentence Syllable Sound You laid on me I was so eagerly in love with you And now my heart is breaking And my tears melt my body into the hauntingly dark soil Where other wayward people must also lie My breath, now, has long expired And you are not coming So as time passes And you grow older And meet other women, and shake hands Shake hips Write your stories Stagnantly, I remain My decomposing, hallow body Dissolves into the earth The wind quivering, and wailing above me

0

Oct 29, 2012

Oct 29, 2012 at 9:20 PM UTC

alex-cassidy

When I Am the First to Go

When I deleted myself off the face of the earth And it still spun And you were still there But I was gone How could you, how could…they Keep on I always expected one after the other you would all come crashing after me Like children playing follow the leader off a cliff Or the carts of a train jumping one after the other in rhythmic timing when the engineer, asleep at the wheel, veers off tracks and goes over the edge of the mountain Yet here I am Lone at the pit of the valley Staring up, not at the heavens as I hoped, But up at you, and your life Going onward How can you mourn me Say you ever loved me If you can go on with out me Here I am, in all your triumphant glowing glory I couldn’t even go on with you You said I was everything to you I picked up so tenderly each thought Sentence Syllable Sound You laid on me I was so eagerly in love with you And now my heart is breaking And my tears melt my body into the hauntingly dark soil Where other wayward people must also lie My breath, now, has long expired And you are not coming So as time passes And you grow older And meet other women, and shake hands Shake hips Write your stories Stagnantly, I remain My decomposing, hallow body Dissolves into the earth The wind quivering, and wailing above me

41

It’s so strange To watch you turn up every morning When you swear every night that you couldn’t go on for one more minute How is it that You want something so badly That you just narrowly escape everyday It is miraculous how you beg for her to touch you, even gently As she forces herself upon countless others It isn’t your time they would likely tell you And I know you would sneer Because what do they know about time Or your time especially But I don’t think you realize The intensity of the blackness That you toy with Your restless body that you can’t keep still for even a moment Completely motionless And the reality of death Is so much less of an escape than I think you had hoped for The images of your wasted body Will remain with the people you leave behind And your legacy Though it will be tragic Will be very awkward and often silenced And your very realness will be buried with you A fraction of your history will consume your story A generic message of hope And remembrance will become you All the poetic waves of your thought Will be dwindled down to nothing And whatever permanence you have left behind in your absence Will be misunderstood and deformed Into something else, far from your own

0

Oct 29, 2012

Oct 29, 2012 at 9:16 PM UTC

alex-cassidy

And the Reality of Death.

It’s so strange To watch you turn up every morning When you swear every night that you couldn’t go on for one more minute How is it that You want something so badly That you just narrowly escape everyday It is miraculous how you beg for her to touch you, even gently As she forces herself upon countless others It isn’t your time they would likely tell you And I know you would sneer Because what do they know about time Or your time especially But I don’t think you realize The intensity of the blackness That you toy with Your restless body that you can’t keep still for even a moment Completely motionless And the reality of death Is so much less of an escape than I think you had hoped for The images of your wasted body Will remain with the people you leave behind And your legacy Though it will be tragic Will be very awkward and often silenced And your very realness will be buried with you A fraction of your history will consume your story A generic message of hope And remembrance will become you All the poetic waves of your thought Will be dwindled down to nothing And whatever permanence you have left behind in your absence Will be misunderstood and deformed Into something else, far from your own

33

I’m glad that you think of me That I pollute your dreams I’m glad that you have to be happy when you think of me because I was with you when you were happy Or sad when you think about how you used to be happy because you were with me I’m so glad that I know you’re still up tonight And I’m still up tonight And we’re probably thinking the same things right now I’m glad nobody’s going to **** you And you’re alone And you’re probably crying Like I’m crying I’m so glad that when I see you you’re always with your friends and I’m by myself and I want to talk to you but I think what if I do and then I think I should have just left as soon as I saw you, And, oh god what if I looked back and you’re still looking and your friends are looking and you probably wouldn’t know what to do because they’re all laughing then you start to laugh and oh god where’s the door- where’s the ******* door. But, anyway.. I’m just really glad that you’re still around And I’m still around Even though I didn’t think I would be And I didn’t write that note

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Oct 29, 2012

Oct 29, 2012 at 9:11 PM UTC

alex-cassidy

Work in Progress, an Angry Poem

I’m glad that you think of me That I pollute your dreams I’m glad that you have to be happy when you think of me because I was with you when you were happy Or sad when you think about how you used to be happy because you were with me I’m so glad that I know you’re still up tonight And I’m still up tonight And we’re probably thinking the same things right now I’m glad nobody’s going to **** you And you’re alone And you’re probably crying Like I’m crying I’m so glad that when I see you you’re always with your friends and I’m by myself and I want to talk to you but I think what if I do and then I think I should have just left as soon as I saw you, And, oh god what if I looked back and you’re still looking and your friends are looking and you probably wouldn’t know what to do because they’re all laughing then you start to laugh and oh god where’s the door- where’s the ******* door. But, anyway.. I’m just really glad that you’re still around And I’m still around Even though I didn’t think I would be And I didn’t write that note

27

I hate looking at you. You are so strikingly beautiful And so viciously ugly When I see you, you lock your eyes with mine and give me a devilish smile You tilt your head forward You’re trying too hard I want to scream **** you Hurt you at the very least Punch you right in your beautiful ugly face I laugh to try to make you stop But inside, I collapse. Please, please stop looking at me. You’re piercing right through my ugly, sexless body Right into my nervous, teenage soul You are so beyond me I hate you for that. I’ll always hate you for that I know you feel superior to me I know you use me I know you take comfort in my cynical, society depreciating, feminist convictions My mumbling garbage of sadness I know you think I’m smart but at the same time pathetic I know that you want me Because you think you can have everything I know you need me Like you need anyone Because you can’t stand to be alone. Yes, I know you can’t stand to be alone. Your wretched body that you toss around like an object All in a vain attempt to be wanted But you still end up alone. You aren’t what you think you are What you want to be So don’t you look down on me like that With your practiced sultriness I say all these things in my laugh But you’re oblivious You look away smiling Like you’ve won something I collapse inside I want to crumple I’m too tired for violence Too sad So I just sit on your couch Perturbed by the silence Even when I hate you most I’m afraid of what you imagine of me in the silence.

0

Oct 29, 2012

Oct 29, 2012 at 9:08 PM UTC

alex-cassidy

McKenna

I hate looking at you. You are so strikingly beautiful And so viciously ugly When I see you, you lock your eyes with mine and give me a devilish smile You tilt your head forward You’re trying too hard I want to scream **** you Hurt you at the very least Punch you right in your beautiful ugly face I laugh to try to make you stop But inside, I collapse. Please, please stop looking at me. You’re piercing right through my ugly, sexless body Right into my nervous, teenage soul You are so beyond me I hate you for that. I’ll always hate you for that I know you feel superior to me I know you use me I know you take comfort in my cynical, society depreciating, feminist convictions My mumbling garbage of sadness I know you think I’m smart but at the same time pathetic I know that you want me Because you think you can have everything I know you need me Like you need anyone Because you can’t stand to be alone. Yes, I know you can’t stand to be alone. Your wretched body that you toss around like an object All in a vain attempt to be wanted But you still end up alone. You aren’t what you think you are What you want to be So don’t you look down on me like that With your practiced sultriness I say all these things in my laugh But you’re oblivious You look away smiling Like you’ve won something I collapse inside I want to crumple I’m too tired for violence Too sad So I just sit on your couch Perturbed by the silence Even when I hate you most I’m afraid of what you imagine of me in the silence.

49

Nothing at this point in time, at this point in my life, would satisfy me more as to consume another human being. To open myself like parted seas then selfishly, ravenously, close myself again, engrossing him. Devouring his flesh in mine. The longer this yearning desire goes unquenched, the more painfully hopeless I am of tranquillizing it. It cries in the night, wishing to be consoled, I coo to it in vain. I am entirely alone.

0

Oct 29, 2012

Oct 29, 2012 at 9:01 PM UTC

alex-cassidy

Deprivation, Depravity

Nothing at this point in time, at this point in my life, would satisfy me more as to consume another human being. To open myself like parted seas then selfishly, ravenously, close myself again, engrossing him. Devouring his flesh in mine. The longer this yearning desire goes unquenched, the more painfully hopeless I am of tranquillizing it. It cries in the night, wishing to be consoled, I coo to it in vain. I am entirely alone.

13