And just like that, the two most impossible things happened.
1. We were over
2. Leonardo DiCaprio won an Oscar
Feb 29, 2016
Feb 29, 2016 at 4:01 PM UTC
No one ever taught me not to stick my hand in a fire, I just learned by common sense;
but here I am again, grasping for you and watching my hand blacken and burn.
Because every time you say that you don’t know what to say,
I want to call you a liar because you just spoke.
But being speechless speaks louder than words and
the absence of sounds swallows me whole
until your fire was all I saw and like a fool, I reached for it again.
But as I did, in the darkness I couldn’t see that my paper heart
was starting to burn.
We all grew up too fast, pushing through pull ups and graduation robes as if they could be worn twice.
We learned that excuses and “I’m sorry”s could be said again,
but that didn’t undo the damage already done.
Now the angry redness of your ears matches the redness of my future and I can’t help but wonder how I could’ve messed this up so badly.
But then I remember that I have a PhD in impulsiveness, poor decision making, and panic attacks.
They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions,
so down I lay cobblestone after cobblestone until I reach the gates but I never enter.
Who needs hell when I have your fiery red hair and temperament
that develops into a burning rage that scorches my skin with silence, when I’d rather be slapped with sinful words that PG movies don’t allow. All I can say is that I tried, because that’s what we all do in this world; we try.
Try our best, but fail anyways because success is for those who get lucky and this world is nothing but a game of chance with lottery tickets costing you more money than you will ever win, but we believe that there must be some essence of luck in our lives because we keep buying tickets.
She thought she was lucky. She thought that in an oceanic timeline, surrounded by blue, that she had found a brown boat, brimmed with buoyancy and broken dreams that you shared.
She climbed into that boat, and side by side you sailed neither of you realizing that you were sinking.
That is the thing about the boats in which we sail, even when we assure ourselves that they will never fail.
In this world, we all have our own ships, but the trick is that these boats can only hold one passenger.
She had her own boat once. She lost it, in maritime madness, one reason or another.
When her boat was swallowed by the sea she started swimming, trying to keep moving. Sink or swim they say.
So as she swam, she spent all her energy and instead tried to tread and keeping her head above water was no longer a game that you played in summers spent at the shallow end of the pool.
It became a constant question of survival.
She must’ve been lucky, for your ship sailed by and
picked up the poor girl who then became a passenger of someone else’s vessel.
This boat was worn, and her captain had tried to patch the holes but as the two sailed, the ship began taking on water as they went.
When training to be a lifeguard, they teach you quite a few things.
Mouth to mouth resuscitation(which sadly is no longer actually mouth to mouth), first aid, CPR, and how to pull a drowning victim from the water.
When people drown, our instincts kick in and we grab for anything to keep ourselves above water and breathe.
We don’t mean to hurt anyone else in the process but we just keep fighting for air.
Sometimes the people push their rescuer under and even though we may try to hold them up, if we don’t breathe too we’ll drown!
So what lifeguards are taught to do is if they are being pushed under
is to shove the victim off, swim away, and save ourselves.
Now some may say that sounds selfish and how can we do that when we’re supposed to be saving them, but we can only save them if we’re alive. If we can breathe.
You told me dating me was like a breath of fresh air,
because when you were with her, you were held under for:
1, 2, 3, 4…10 seconds, 20 seconds, 30 seconds, 45, 83, 104, 255, 1013… 63,072,000 seconds - TWO YEARS.
So of course, I understood why you swam away.
Away from the girl who broke your boat because being drained of energy was something I used to do to others.
I ****** the acid out of batteries and I walked on power lines, licked light bulbs, and suckled sockets because I too was once a drowning victim and but I hit the water was shocked by the electric energy that I had drained from him and it was hell.
The hell that I had laid cobblestones too, the hell that one day I might see you in, because we’re all sinners here.
We aren’t human if we don’t make mistakes, and damn’t I’ve made mine.
I fell from the ship and sank until I hit rock bottom, which was somewhere right between a razor blade reef and pill popping plankton. It’s funny how solid rock bottom can feel beneath your feet, because we’ve been on our boats or in the water for so long;
but you can’t stay down there no matter how badly you want to
because your lungs are screaming for air so you push yourself up and struggle for the surface.
The Marianas Trench is the deepest point in the ocean, and I’m pretty sure that’s about where I landed.
And I’m sure that if it wasn’t for a difference in timing, I would’ve seen her at the bottom too.
But that’s the split between me and her, because right now I’m back in my own boat and I’m breathing in fresh air but she’s gasping for a breath. She’s struggling to breathe but her lungs keep taking on water.
This doesn’t happen to just her and me, but there are hundreds of thousands of people out at sea.
Some decide to perform a self mutiny by mutilating their minds and jumping overboard and the truth is that not everyone makes it!
Some open their mouths underwater while screaming for help
but instead their shouts are choked out by the salty ocean that surrounds us all that we continuously mistake for our own tears.
Some people are smarter. They wear life jackets, while the rest of us
use others as life rafts until we figure out how to rebuild our boats and I’m here to say that you can.
No, it’s not going to be easy. It’s never easy.
Learning to swim wasn’t easy. When you first learned to swim you thought you would drown then, but you survived didn’t you?
If Jack Sparrow sailed the sea, so can we.
So here I am, breathing in and I’m floating on,
trying to teach others that mending their ships is a pain but they have nothing to lose and so much more to gain.
And there you are and if dating me is like breath of fresh air and you're fire, do I just continue to let you consume my oxygen until I choke on bitter words and stutter on sentences that I can’t spit out?
Sure my boat has holes in it and sometimes, the patches break;
but I have found that letting water in just isn’t for me so don’t plan on using wooden scraps of my boat to light your fire anytime soon because I know that even though this ocean seems vast and never-ending, we are all sailing somewhere.
Hopefully, we’ll get their soon.
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 12:22 PM UTC
Have you ever thought about the last time you loved someone?
The last time you let someone in so far that
you found parts of yourself that you never knew?
The last time you promised yourself this was it
that she would be the one this time, like he was the one last time
and she was the one the time before that.
How this time, things were going to be different
and each time they are but you’re not sure
if it is for better or for worse but
you keep trying anyways because what is life if not
failed attempts and unfulfilled dreams?
Empty promises and countless nightmares
which have turned into daydreams because
you’re living them out in front of your own eyes
day after day without even realizing it.
Because here your are once again, with your heart out on your sleeve
letting her take pieces of it that you don’t even have to offer
because you’ve been split into smaller pieces but you still
give up what little you have because you were taught that
even when you have nothing, there is always something to give.
She has given me solace, warmth, kisses, and sweet smiles
that I worry I will never be able to repay because she can’t seem to find
the beauty that is inside of her, so what if she can never see
the beauty that I’ve been trying so hard to find within me?
These are the things that keep me unsure of my sureness
that keep me aware of the fact that I am now self aware
because I know that I deserve love and if she can’t accept mine
will she be able to love me?
Was this too soon? Is she sure of me? Does she see the monster?
Does she see the true me? Have I let her so far inside that
she decided to turn back because she sees the darkness that
haunts my mind and clouds my heart but when she is around
I feel nothing but an electric heat that could light cities around the world.
Still, I keep fighting for her because I don’t know if I could even
bear the thought of losing her even now.
My mission; my goal - love her in a way that she has never known before.
Love her in the way that she truly deserves because no one else
will ever be able to do it right; no one but me.
So here I stay, to hold her through the night and hopefully she
will finally see that she is the fire that illuminates my life.
Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 6:56 PM UTC
Who was the first one to say
**** it”?
To put his middle finger up in the air
and scream
**** THE SYSTEM”
at the top of his lungs?
To chop off her hair and wear pants,
while whispering
**** gender roles”
as she washed her newly chopped hair
and didn’t shave her legs.
Who was the first to stand up to the man
and fall on his knees before him
as he was shot down for saying
“go **** yourself”
because that was what
he firmly believed in.
Who were the revolutionaries that
inspired the revolutionaries we know of today?
And who will be the new rebels that blare
**** the police”
as they drive down their drug torn streets,
hoping that today wasn’t going to be their last.
Who were the first people to go
**** it, I’m out” and
jump off the ledge,
tie the noose,
or point a pistol to their head?
Who were the trailblazers?
The ones who keyed the terms
**** it” and **** you”
**** this” or **** that”
Who was the first woman that
made a man look at her and say
****
And how do you manage
to have that effect on me?
Who are you to make me say
**** it” and
drive 3 hours to see you
when I have school the next morning?
Who are you to make me say
**** the system” as I
try to convince you to skip class
to come and see me for a couple days?
Who are you to say
**** gender rolls”
and make guy’s jeans realize
that they never would’ve looked as good
on guys as they do on you.
Who are you to say
“go **** yourself”
when they told you that
you couldn’t be you
even though you know who you are.
Who are you to say
**** the police”
while you race 90 miles per hour
down the interstate
and put your lips to a joint
as you put them to mine?
Who are you to say
**** it, I’m out”
and leave me with my
heart in hand and
a bottle of Bacardi in the other?
Who are you to
stand out and say
**** it” and **** you”
**** this” or **** that”
How can you lie in front of me
and lie in front of me
saying that you don’t give a ****
when I can’t help but whisper ****
under my breath every time I see you
Yet you still don’t understand
that you’re the one ******* up
my heart and ******* up
my thoughts while ******* me
and I won’t say **** this
because I’m too ****** up
to just say **** it.
Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 6:55 PM UTC
She was lost in a disarray of
music notes and heart strings
that played emotions like
she played melodies on
her second hand store ukulele.
She was lost in a room
of buildings and infrastructure
that surrounded her life
and told her which way was up
and that there was only down.
She was lost in a pile of
faded flannel shirts and
hoodies that didn’t smell like
her anymore because they had
been worn by someone else for too long.
She was lost behind fogged glasses
and curly hair that hung a little too low
but could be brushed out of the way
by the right hand that knew
how to hold her face as well.
She was lost in a cloud of nothing
that consumed her heart until she
couldn’t quite find her way out
of the darkness. But little did she know
that she was the fire that lit the way out.
Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 6:51 PM UTC
Forever in love with
a gold chain and memories.
Tearing me down
who would’ve thought we’d
be enemies.
Dizzy nights and dark dreams
that brought us together
now tear at our being
as your thighs stick to
the leather.
Foggy windows and
hot boxed cars
forever leaving behind traces
of who we were and
who we are.
Crave your initials
into an old tree,
and leave behind the last trace
of what we used to be.
Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 9:46 PM UTC
I love her
not just to love
but because
she is someone
who is worthy of
being loved.
Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 9:45 PM UTC
Darkness of the ages past.
Pick up the phone.
Time is fleeting;
It will never last.
Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 9:44 PM UTC
She knew how to hold me
because she was used
to holding herself together.
She bound herself,
not from head to toe, but
from her flat stomach
to her nervous armpit.
Never quite comfortable
in her own skin,
but I was comfortable
against it.
I never knew what
name to call her.
So I called her
lover.
My lover would
rest with me.
Whispers filled the air
like clouds.
Our words were
puffy and white.
Others spoke
acid tongued storm clouds.
Now that she is gone
I still don’t know what
name to call her. Him.
His name
rolls off my tongue
as hers had.
Still bittersweet
and rough, still
my unstable rock.
Rocks crumble and learn
that the rain washes them away.
Rain learns that falling on,
or for, rocks
bruises the heart
and breaks the ribs.
Yet still, the rain comes and
my heart ruptures and
my chest aches of cracks. Still
I long for him.
For her. For us.
Jan 22, 2016
Jan 22, 2016 at 11:35 AM UTC
Thats how I will remember her; just as she was. Laying in my bed wearing her rastafarian drug rug that twinned my own, holding my lanyard close and my brother even closer. She laughed as she watched me drink lemonade that I later learned contained laxatives, and she avoided any type of emotional outburst that didn’t reveal that she just might not be okay. As I started to exit my room and said “Goodbye”, she surprised me.
“Don’t say that Bean.”
I looked down at one brown eye and one eye colored fake blue with a contact lens, and I saw sadness in both. So I smiled sadly and said,
“Instagram you later.”
Jan 22, 2016
Jan 22, 2016 at 11:32 AM UTC