A veces extraño mucho a la gente
en especial a los que me hacen daño
quizá es por todo lo malo que me dejaste y por todo lo que he sufrido
No me gusta pensar en mi misma como la víctima de nadie
pero sé que de alguna forma u otra, lo fui
A veces me siento tan perdida y vacía que pienso que lo único que me traería de vuelta el sentido es volver a enredarme en tus juegos y dejar que me destruyas el alma una vez más
Te juro que no sé qué más hacer. Escribo esto con un dolor en el pecho que no se compara con nada en el mundo.
A veces quisiera irme lejos
pero del único lugar que realmente quiero huir es de mi mente
porque no importa lo que haga, la terapia, la medicación
mis fantasmas no descansan y por lo tanto, yo tampoco
A veces quisiera mandarte mensajes y decirte que es tu culpa,
que todo lo malo que me hiciste y me dijiste finalmente se me metió en la cabeza y que no importa lo que haga, no se va.
No sé si tiene algún sentido que escriba todo esto, la verdad.
y siento que seguiré haciéndolo por el resto de mi vida y nunca se va a desvanecer toda la putrefacción que siento constantemente.
Jul 7, 2019
Jul 7, 2019 at 9:40 PM UTC
lately i don’t know how to talk about myself without mentioning the chaos and the heartbreak and the loneliness and all the sadness that’s within me. i think i’ve suffered enough for a lifetime and maybe that’s why i feel like i’m just done with life. lately i try to make the best out of every day and i struggle constantly not to let my mind set free and i’m afraid i might just end it. honestly, i’d hate to do that to the people that i love because i know my father doesn’t deserve all that misery and the grief and the pain. and i don’t want my mother to think it’s her fault because she’s been doing good for a while. i think she’s growing and becoming a better person and i honestly believe in her and have forgiven her for everything that happened and would hate to be the reason why she has a new breakdown and i’m terrified that if she did she’d never get better again. i don’t want to be the reason why she gives up on herself -or anything else. and my brother’s such a sweetheart. so loving and so strong. i could never do that to him. i could never take away from him the chance to see me get married and have kids and have him come over and cook together in my big house and be besties with my wife and take my kids out for ice cream. i could never. and my friends, they have been a blessing for me in this time specifically, i can’t thank them enough. thank you for coming with me to places that are so simple yet cause me so much anxiety and thank you for never making fun and thank you for being kind to me. thank you for making me laugh of myself and others and showing me just how easy it all can be sometimes. thank you for giving me perspective and positivity when we all know that there’s none of that left in me. thank you for showing me how it is like to believe in love and great things and magic and dreams and opportunities and thank you for showing me that sometimes believing in people turns out to be a good thing.
i’ve always wanted to go to pride but this year i’m not sure if i’ll make it. i hope i do. i hope i find the strength. i hope it’s not too late for me to get better. i hope i just refuse to listen to myself because i’m never nice. it’s harder if you’re not nice to yourself. sometimes i think i’m cool and good looking and hot and at the same time i’m so disgusted and ashamed of being alive. it’s just insane.
i just hope i’m going in the right direction. i hope this hopelessness changes soon and i hope this pain takes me somewhere better.
i feel like i’m writing a goodbye letter and maybe i am. i don’t know yet.
Nov 27, 2017
Nov 27, 2017 at 5:50 PM UTC
and here i am again
at the intersection
of pedestrian language
& old wives tales
swallowing gum
like 7 year memories
opening umbrellas inside
cause i can't seem get away
from all of this rain
i ********** with my left hand
cause i was told
back in highschool that
"it feels like someone else is doing it"
it gets me wondering
about the difference between
losing you and finding out
that some one else found you
or my sleep
or lack thereof
its starting to tear me apart
i keep having this dream
where you are in
an unfamiliar body of water
trying to wash my poetry
off of your hands
or the one where
something happens in my chest
every time you sit
on someone else's bed
i'm tired of feeling like something you've misplaced
but don't have the heart
to look for anymore
tired of you saying my name
like you're trying to bury it
i'm tired of wondering
if you can tell the difference
between the absence
of my voice & silence
the other day
i almost started sobbing
at work when a woman
asked me about
our equipment
i was explaining how
things come apart
and almost mentioned your name
it made me think
of how you used to say
things like "what would you do
if i showed up on your doorstep
one day?" now, i haunt
the windows in my house
i don't leave for weeks at a time
i sit on the porch like the dog
you didn't shoot behind the shed
the one that refuses to die
until you come home again
i told somebody once, that
you didn't even know
what my voicemail sounded like
i wonder if they thought
it was because you
are so important that i never
let it ring that many times
before picking up
or if you dont know
what it sounds like
because you've never called
you can't be the ****** weapon
and the search party
i'm tired of all the seats
to the ferris wheel in my chest
being empty
tired of your voice
being the one i look for
in abandoned places
that one sound i beg
to bounce back
down vacant hallways
i just seem to stand there
in all of that quiet
like someone looking for a mistake
on an eviction notice
so i guess the hardest part
isn't letting go
it's forgetting
you ever had a grip
in the first place
and since you've been gone
i wonder if when
you pushed yourself away from me
you used your left hand
so it felt like someone else did it
Aug 13, 2017
Aug 13, 2017 at 9:49 PM UTC
asi es como esto funciona, verás
en las noches frías, solitarias, oscuras, a veces no me queda de otra que pensar en ti, en nosotras, en todo lo que ese extraño juego mental de fantasía y salidas de emergencia nos convirtió. y pienso en cómo es posible que los dioses permitieran un amor tal cual. porque podrá haber dolido y ardido en llamas, y sido veneno, y antídoto y pudo haber sido la mentira más grande que jamás conoceré pero también fue la más atractiva, y de alguna forma la manera en que te amé hace de todas tus mentiras una gran e insólita verdad.
Porque la cosa es que después de tanto, tanto tiempo, aún son las 11:18 de un miércoles en la noche y te sigo pensando. Sigo recordando lo nuestro, y todas las quemaduras y cicatrices que me dejaste cuando te marchabas para siempre
y a los dos meses volvías.
Dec 22, 2016
Dec 22, 2016 at 9:21 PM UTC
i see you everywhere.
sometimes when I'm kissing her
my eyes are closed like when you're making a wish
and it's always you.
It's always "please, come back"
Its always "please, don't go"
and as we all know
wishes do not come true.
I should know better than anyone though.
with you everything felt like a fairytale
but my bedtime story's a whole different one.
one where nothing's ever good to us for too long
one where every thing we've ever loved either goes away, goes to waste
or dies
one where neither of us is ever brave enough to fight our battles nor to say goodbye
except the battles are always wars
and goodbye's don't mean "I'm leaving"
they mean "please, stay"
Dec 9, 2016
Dec 9, 2016 at 9:04 PM UTC
sometimes i get this strange feeling when something bad is about to happen and lately
no matter what i do or what i think about it doesnt go away.
how can i explain to you that i want you to be here forever?
i've never been scared of anything but losing you.
there will never be enough words in this world to tell you how much you mean to me and how i would have never been me if it wasnt for you.
you taught me to be kind and respectful to everyone even if i think they don't deserve it.
you're the only person who's ever made me feel like being vulnerable and fragile is okay. even in this ****** ****** up world.
there are days when i love the fact that i'm never able to forget because that way i will always remember the moments i have spent with you.
to be honest, i don't want to imagine a world without you in it; without the two of us making fun about literally everything and without your hot limonade to make me feel better whenever im sick.
i remember that day of april where it was pouring so hard and we were all wet and tired and we were almost home and i couldn't stop laughing. because even tho i couldn't feel my feet and i was freezing to death, i was the happiest kid in the world because i had you by my side. throughout my life i've known that no matter what kind of storm im in, everything will be alright as long as i have you.
you've always been the greatest role model i could've asked for and i will always think of you like the only person in the world that is worth everything.
May 10, 2016
May 10, 2016 at 3:25 PM UTC
i don't watch home movies
hate them
reason being because
when i was young
i was looking for a movie
my mother
had recorded for me
and accidentally
put one in the vcr
that i'm not sure
i was supposed to see
i know the obvious response
*"uh oh, ****
sorry to disappoint
they were only marked with dates
1991
on live television
montel williams asks my father
*"how can you just throw
your child away like a piece of trash?"*
1994
i spend so much time
in the emergency room
that my parents stop
penciling in growth marks
on the frame
of my bedroom door
i always thought
it was because they believed
i would never grow out
of this sickness
sometimes i believe
the reason that they
never bought me a dream catcher
was because they never thought
i'd live long enough
to see them come true
1996
i am eliminated
from a spelling bee
because i didn't know
the 'dad' is silent in 'family'
2013
before i got into poetry
i used to do standup
none of my jokes were funny
one of the other comics
tells me my skits are dry
sometimes sad
he says *"why don't you joke
about something like your family?"*
so i say
*"i never wore any sunblock
because i didn't want anything
to keep me from my father"*
i say *"what do you call christmas
without lights or heat?"*
before he has a chance
to answer
i say *"1997. better yet
why don't you
make like a dad and
leave"*
2014
every time we drive
past the hospital
my mother reminds me
how much it cost to save my life
like she'd rather
have her money back
she doesn't have to say
that sometimes she wishes
it was me who had died
instead of my brother
i can hear it in the way
she says "love you"
sometimes i imagine
that if i were to die
that she
would pick out a casket for a child
because she never loved
the person i became
yesterday i told my father
how close i'd been
to suicide lately
and he said
*"that's my boy,
livin on the edge.."*
and i can't remember
if i laughed
or cried
Mar 24, 2016
Mar 24, 2016 at 6:03 PM UTC
someone's in the next room over
having *** while we
are weeping
what a way to mark the occasion
the day my fingers found a wound
you let someone else doctor
it's upsetting see
the bible in drawer next to us
the way our hands still
fit together
like the torn halves
of a love letter
the way you got
all dressed up like the rain
and how we couldn't tell
the difference in the shower
it was the longest hour and a half
spent crying
the hot water wouldn't give up
so why should we
right?
even though it was scalding
neither of us touched the ****
we knew this was supposed to hurt
your hair
a black mess against my shoulder
my fingers
oil in the vinegar of your hands
our bodies
the great divide
all the sobbing
a river runs through it
without the courage
to carry or **** us
so we step out
and drip dry
down to a mute breakfast
composed of quiet
and last nights liquor
as we came back in
there were people in our room
at first i thought them detectives
dissecting things
to see who had died here
i had forgotten this
was a hotel
and they were only
cleaning up after us
i wanted to stop them
plead
that the sheets were still perfect
that if they clean the bathroom
no one will know
what happened here
someone has to remember
*"please
i know
these cigarette burns
by name
i will bury the faucet
let me take the tub
i don't care how
if i have to
i will drag it home by hand*"
Mar 24, 2016
Mar 24, 2016 at 5:59 PM UTC
I miss my home.
I miss having time to be with myself.
I miss my best friend and my cat and i miss the kitchen floor and the sound the stairs make at 4 am.
I miss the house i grew in, but it's ironic how i kind of hated it when i was there.
I have so many memories, most of them awful, to be honest.
All the terrible things that happened in that house seem to fade away whenever i miss it.
I'm not sure of being capable of doing this.
Right now i'm not quite sure of being brave enough to deal with it and i don't want to be.
I am so obsessed with stability.
I always think of when you used to say that everyone needs changes in their lives to become who they're meant to be.
And if any of that was true, why do i keep going through this? Why does everything seem to change but nothing ever really does?
I've been reliving those three years ever since you left.
Sometimes i wish i could go back and start it all over.
I wish none of us had suffered the way we did
and i wish you stayed.
Mar 24, 2016
Mar 24, 2016 at 5:51 PM UTC