It’s gotten bad
Not bad as in this feeling will pass
Bad as in not caring if I crash my car and don’t survive
At least it’ll be an excuse for dying
I imagine what my funeral would look like
Hope mom would know Id want daisies, sufjan Stevens playing and my face looking the same way it did in everyday life
Vanity still exists in death
Dad used to have his up and down days
He still does
The way to survive?
Lock in all up in the imaginary vault you hold in yourself
Hold all the negative thoughts
anger
sadness
Hold em hostage
Don’t let them see the light
The one flaw in his plan was the outbursts he’d have from the demons escaping for a little while
Wouldn’t happen for a month
few weeks
two weeks
few days
everyday
Sometimes I think some of them escaped him and found their way into me and that’s why I have an unjustified anger blooming in my aching chest that I can’t silence
It’s no excuse for what I say when I lose control
When my apologies reach the thousands to the point where they don’t matter
I’m sorry
That I can’t make up my mind
That I can’t do what’s best for me
That I do things to hurt myself
That I think I deserve pain
That I can’t stop saying sorry
I need to stop feeling sorry
Dec 30, 2015
Dec 30, 2015 at 12:52 PM UTC
I take my coffee piled with sweetener and syrup because everything about me is
bitter bitter bitter
The thoughts in my mind to the movement of my toes, I just want to kick that **
God only knows
Eleven cavities, reason being hereditary
Bitterness has trampled through my bones, blood, veins
Fighting for the day when I let it come out and play
Bitter bitter bitter
Shut it all in till I have nothing left to say
Yet everything to say
With no reason to stay
Numbness has gone away leaving an onslaught of shame in its wake
If only I didn’t feel the need to stay awake
Play this lifeless game
Where my heart always gets in the way
Dec 30, 2015
Dec 30, 2015 at 12:49 PM UTC
I want to go home but I’ve never really had one
Home has always been a wasted place full of lies and burdens, talking yet never listening
When the time comes to leave I’ll only remember how I placed home in a body that couldn’t love the preciousness In a goodbye, the awakening in a hello
When my problems become unbearable I tend to make myself out to be the righteous one, the innocent one
I didn’t want to kiss him, didn’t want to do anything with him yet I still took those steps
The alcohol helped but the clarity through the haziness should’ve halted me
The process begins with an internal emotional breakdown, mind goes numb, fingers tingle and the heart races
Thoughts point to “it’s already ****** so why not **** it up more?”
I just want it to hurt, feel the pain I deserve for what I’ve done
Pleasure doesn’t phase me anymore
My mind is so delusional these days that I can’t tell what is wrong or right, if I’m making up the issues in my head. Subconsciously Exaggerating them for my personal advantage
Which is why I always go back
Back to the lies, lack of love, hardness, tight grips and hateful kisses
Does he find weak minded girls because he knows they’ll never have the strength to leave?
Stuck thinking this is love, rough and hatefully passionate but never soft
Take me, take everything I have, mind and body, do whatever you want to it
Because I’ve been taught love is giving, giving everything you have until you have nothing
Take my dignity and pleasure
Leave me with bruises, shame and a numbness that courses through my every cell
it means he cares
Dec 30, 2015
Dec 30, 2015 at 12:47 PM UTC
As I go through all my past poems I realize my heart never listened to my mind and it never will
Everything written about him is littered with the signs of emotional abuse yet I can never escape
Breaks my heart and tells me he doesn’t love me yet I still hold him and wipe his tears as he cries
Each tear dripping down his face reminded me of each girl he talked to
I wanted to be appalled by his touch, his eyes, the overgrown scruff on his chin
But I wasn’t
Begged him to hold me, begged him to stop the ******* car, Screaming fits that shook the Window
s
Begged him to kiss me and hold me on his lap
I wondered if I was always looking into the eyes of a sociopath, if I lied to myself about it the entire time
A year and a half
A year and half wasted built on lies screamed right at my face
I just want to be loved
Yet I walked right into the hands of a man that wasn’t capable of ever loving anyone or anything
I gave him everything in me, every single inch of myself
Stayed in shape, lost friends, isolated myself, did whatever he asked me to whenever for fear of him getting angry
I wasn’t enough
The worthlessness I feel drips from my eyes and mouth, a constant feeling of Nausea stuck in the back of my throat
Now I’ve got a reason to despise the holidays just like my father does
Couldn’t have asked for a better present
Merry Christmas to me
Dec 30, 2015
Dec 30, 2015 at 12:44 PM UTC
I want my love to swallow him
I want my love to be all he wants to think of and all he wants to know
I want him to think of me
To love me when the sun goes
I want him to be blind with only me in his eyes
I want him to think of me when he’s lying in bed
Every waking thought should be of me
Unless he were to be dead
I want to be a river, one with no end
When the days turn into waves I want to be the one he saves
I want to be a tsunami
A force needing to be seen
When the calm arrives and the storm leaves I want to be the sea
I have a thirsting need to be seen
To be remembered and obsessed
When the time comes to leave I go without a mess
He will be fuming
I will leave him as a bird without a nest
For he is the one that needs me
But I don’t need him
Dec 30, 2015
Dec 30, 2015 at 12:41 PM UTC
“I can’t let you go” drips from his leering lips to his weary woes
Drip
The sound of his affection swallowing you whole
Click
The sound of the lock bounding your sinking soul
Wishing to let him go
Never saying no
Wondering why everyone says you’re a spineless droll
Leaving would make a lifeless show
Picking up the trash pieces everyone has thrown
Bring out the basket, throw away the bile
Isn’t love just vile
Oct 30, 2015
Oct 30, 2015 at 12:49 AM UTC
It felt like those steps in main hall
Crumbling, cracked and caving in from the weight of the soles over the years
Burdens were knifes to the heart
The guilt and remorse enveloping your already numb, almost gone conscious
You wonder when you started feeling like a graveyard full of emerging corpses
The putrid smell was what gave them away
You check before you leave to see him if the clean cotton scent is still lingering on your skin
You douse more of your lavender perfume on to cover it up
Dabbing at the same spots lips left a trail of promises on the night before
We could call you a hypocrite but we know you already hate your self enough
Was it worth it?
We know the guilt you feel is for having no guilt at all
Your mind was clear, unabashed, silent
His angry affection was nowhere on your mind
Have you ever thought that the reason for his anger is because you give him no other choice?
We all agree that anger shouldn’t be automatic, shouldn’t be an instinct
The way your father shows his anger is the same he shows his
Your fathers heart has been breaking more
The slower the beat, the longer the sigh
You hear the impending stress under each of his steps, the ache in his chest, the absence of his company
He tells you that the pain is tolerable some days, others not so much
To not take the world so serious because it’ll just ***** you over in the end
Push your faults onto other people
Never admit it was all you
When the day comes to say goodbye I won’t tell you about the lies and deceit
I’ll save your heart from breaking for I selfishly cannot cope with another broken heart
Oct 30, 2015
Oct 30, 2015 at 12:47 AM UTC
I haven’t thought your name in a month, I forget when the time arrived that I stopped keeping track of how many times you crept across my mind
They say the day that moment arrives is when you’re done grieving
Done allowing the sadness to seep in
Done letting the dead mess with you
Done living life with a ghost
Ma’s seen multiple psychics as a way to still have you in her life
number 4, letter A, books, pride, my voice
Regret
wishes he could still be by our side, living the happy life he led with us before it was so rudely ripped away
As ma says this I turn my head and cover my ears
The dead can’t talk
The dead can’t think
The dead can’t wish
The dead can’t live
He says he can’t believe how much you’ve grown, your voice, your hair, your strength. He wishes he could’ve been there as you grew up
As ma says this I hold my breath and count to thirty
Thoughts of pale corpses
Thoughts of cold skin
Thoughts of heavy caskets
Thoughts of cold, January wind
Thoughts of silence
Ma looks over at me waiting for a response but I only briskly nod my head
The dead terrifies me, always has
Pa telling us to hold our breath and close the windows whenever we passed a graveyard
They’ll get you and never leave you
You’ve never left me
Hair tugging, moving things, whispering
The last thing we talked about was religion, you ate your favorite steak and sat down for a movie
I walked the dog around nine for an hour, the night wind brisk, swirling
wondering what I did to be blessed with such a loving life
Death terrifies me, it hasn’t always
Never knowing when it’ll visit
Never knowing who it’ll take
Never knowing
Left wondering
Oct 30, 2015
Oct 30, 2015 at 12:42 AM UTC
Dependent, well that was never a word i would’ve used to describe myself
heavily reliant on another person to make them happy, feel fulffilled and pound away the overwhelming notion of hopelessness engraved into their bones
yep, definitely not me
id rather settle with calling them a distraction instead of admitting that i, who depicts myself as a nonchalant, unfeeling ***** that doesn’t give a **** actually gives a ****
narcissistic much? yep
happiness, i wish i could call that my goal.
maybe when i was eleven and still held the belief that everything ends up perfect as long as you turn in your homework and dress nicely
ah, simpler times
now days i only accomplish that so i can motivate myself to keep trying on a daily basis
even writing seems like a chore that i don’t want to bring myself to finish anymore
getting through the day without repeatedly slamming my head into a wall in order to block out the numbness is my version of happiness now
i wish i could pinpoint when it became like this
my therapist tells me to find what triggers these feelings and once i do to squash them before they can mess with my head
i don’t know how to tell her that there is no trigger, i can’t kick them out when they’ve made me into their home
i know how it feels to be left behind and i would never put them through that
i decide against telling her I’ve personified my depression now
this is sam, he’s always there to give me a helping hand back into bed when i look in the mirror and don’t want to face myself
this is melody, she’s always there singing soothing tunes to lure me into a spiraling fit of paranoid self hatred
this is luke, he’s my guardian angel, always following me around making sure to bring me back down to earth whenever i get too happy
I’m grateful for them, i really am.
always involved in my life making sure not to miss anything that happens to me, no matter how big or small
which leaves me to wonder if I’m the one that has pushed all my real friends away, by only ever focusing on my fake ones
not ready to face that yet so ill leave that in the “denial” section of my brain, which is overflowing by the minute
the thing about this sadness, is that I’m not sure who i would be without it
with it goes my sense of identity and I’m not ready to have a one on one session with my real, gritty self because I’m afraid i won’t like what i find
fear, isn’t that what binds us all?
keeps us from leaving people, keeps us from staying with them
dependability, often i tell myself that if i were to live all by my lonesome in alaska with nothing but the sound of wind and smell of the forest i would be content
dependability, being able to be alone is something i pride myself on
dependability, with only my thoughts to keep me company id probably stab myself repeatedly
dependability, i can’t depend on myself so i have to find someone i can
dependability, the sad truth
Oct 9, 2015
Oct 9, 2015 at 2:01 PM UTC
Dad has told me since i was born that theres a shark out there with our name on it
Thats why i never go as deep as my shoulders in the ocean
warnings rattle around my head and a sense of abandonment wraps around my legs
maybe the riptide felt like gentle hands leading him home
he’ll find us one day
i wonder if he’s talking about the shark or neevie
often i imagine him living in puerto Rico, having found his way among the waves he would reside in a tiny hut near the ocean side
listening every night as if to receive a whisper saying “come home”
the sole reason of dads birth being to replace his mothers only son
stand in for a deadboy
came out looking the exact opposite
blonde hair, blue eyes
stevie, her sweet boy
pouring all the bitter, tainted love she held into him
didn’t they tell you the bruises left behind were just love marks?
cherish them, it means she cares
mommie dearest loves you so, did you not know?
the closest form of loving someone is hating them and he’s got that down to a science
thoughts of prying the jalousie windows shut during winters in west tampa
counting each bullet that echoed in the distance
sitting on cotton bags skinning potatoes as his father prepared dinner for the navy ship
uncurling himself late at night when the sound of the door opening would alert him that he could finally stop hiding and embrace the warmth his fathers smile radiated
Oct 9, 2015
Oct 9, 2015 at 1:52 PM UTC