It’s quiet.
Like a dark room, with a small candle.
Only a small flicker of light.
A peaceful pace of breath.
A chest rising and falling,
like a pattern that never ends,
never changes.
It’s still.
A green lake,
covered in moss.
Baby ducks follow their mother,
swimming peacefully.
Unaware that soon they will be alone.
Unassuming, not worried.
Then,
it’s not.
It’s not quiet.
Thunder rattles windows,
ferocious and angry.
Trees sway,
their limbs turning into long fingers.
Scratching and knobby.
Like a witch dropping potions,
swirling a poison.
So potent and dangerous,
even a touch can eliminate
the ticking of a steady heart.
It’s not still.
The ground rumbles with something underneath.
Something so unpredictable.
Even the bravest get scared.
Something always so steady and safe,
no longer.
It shakes and breaks the fragile glass
sitting on the counter,
once stuck in its place.
Something is wrong.
The constant, ever present fan spinning above.
Blowing cool air, providing peaceful sound.
Providing comfort.
It speeds up.
It goes faster and faster,
until it becomes a wind storm.
A fog falls.
Whirling around until eyes cannot see through.
It is blinding.
Air picks up.
Faster.
Faster.
Too fast.
It’s too much.
It is all
too much.
It was once quiet and still.
When you looked into my eyes.
The room was dark,
the candle sat diligently,
doing it’s job,
providing light.
Just enough.
Peaceful.
The water was calm,
innocent and kind to life.
Never able to be disturbed.
Now you look.
Into my eyes.
It’s scary,
foreboding.
Your heart beats faster.
It’s dark, it’s violent, it’s spinning.
Spinning and spinning.
Faster and faster.
It doesn’t make sense.
Like the wicked witch brought her twister.
Knocked on my skull,
and I let her in.
This is my home.
My home that fills every space of me.
When will my home be saved?
When will rescue barrel through, swiftly
as if there is nothing in its way to stop it?
When will the relief come?
I’m ready for the quiet.
I’m ready for the still.
I’m ready for rescue.
Jun 10, 2021
Jun 10, 2021 at 7:22 PM UTC
I hear her whispering to me
sweet, gentle words in my ear.
I want her to reach out
touch me, hold me, wrap her long spindly arms around me.
To take away the strain it takes to breath.
To tear away the persistent pain.
The pain that rips through my thoughts like the crash and ferocity of a wave
breaking on the shore.
I want her to keep talking to me.
She beckons me
“Come here, let me help you.”
She pulls me in as if she were doing everything to save me.
She might save me.
If I follow her the way she wants,
like the way I want to.
As if I were a moth chasing a child holding a wildly moving flashlight.
She might save me.
The more she whispers to me.
The more I crave her.
The more the pain rises like it’s an elevator,
shooting to the top of a skyscraper.
I might listen to her.
I might follow her.
I want to.
I want to see her, go to her.
I need to.
I need her to take away my pain like she promises.
A promise so strong two pinkies solidifying it would not be enough.
Death, she calls herself.
She might save me.
Jun 10, 2021
Jun 10, 2021 at 12:18 PM UTC
Crave it. Crave life. Desire things that aren't material. Learn to grip every little thing and never let the feeling of being blown away by this earth leave your fingertips. Try new foods from different places and cultures. Don't shut your mind off to things that are not what you deem 'normal'. Open your heart to people and do not let yourself walk away from loving and being loved. Quit allowing your fear of getting hurt overcome your need of intimacy. Stop shying away from being vulnerable. Allow yourself to feel every emotion there is to feel. Don't fret when you start to feel a little insane. Don't worry when your throat swells up and tears form around the brim of your eyes. Be angry, happy, silly, sad, and wild. When people tell you that you're being too much, laugh. Live your life empty of fear for tomorrow or regret from yesterday. Kiss lots of boys, walk long miles, swim in foreign waters, create new things, write. Love this life and yourself.
Aug 9, 2016
Aug 9, 2016 at 1:56 AM UTC
Maybe I'm so lonely because I convince myself that happiness is always fleeting and your kisses won't last forever
I always tell myself not to open up because everything I've ever learned in school tells me that you cannot live without a heart and mine always seems to find its way into your cursed hands
I can't help but feel like I've lost my mind when catching myself not being able to focus is not uncommon for me because my brain is always circling your words and trying to decode the secret language of your touch
I am certainly becoming a lesser version of myself due to your subtle ways of filling my body with pieces of you
I should have learned by now that I cannot fix you or change your wicked self
I cannot even fix me
Aug 7, 2016
Aug 7, 2016 at 4:47 PM UTC
i guess some would say that its just easier to push the ones you love away, instead of sticking around and watching them leave you instead. but absence is absence and leaving hurts too, because either way someone’s being ripped away from you and i don’t think that dull ache ever truly goes away. we just grow numb to it, become unaware and pretend that breathing isn’t hard. even though it is. even though it kills you sometimes just to take a deep breath because shards of everything broken inside of you never truly go away, they just resemble into something else that you either love or hate and end up poking your lungs when you find someone new, letting you know “oh hey! this is scary!” but the point of this is to say, absence hurts like a ***** no matter how it hits you. and maybe its insensitive to say, but you need to appreciate the people you have right now because you never know when you will run out of what seems like an endless succession of tomorrow’s because everything does come to an end at some point. so please, with everything inside of me, im begging you, make the most out of today. tell everyone you love them, shout it as loud as you can, scream it. im not much of a person for saying i love you unless i truly mean it, but please, gather what’s inside of you and tell them. tell them before its too late, appreciate them, call them, text them, go hangout with them, hold them close because when you have a tomorrow that comes and you lose someone you’ve loved with every fiber of your being, that’s what ***** you up inside. it leaves you broken, so broken you can’t even fathom enough life inside of you to breathe for a while and so you become blue and you kind of fade away into the sky and you go away for a while, you vanish from all that you’ve known because when someone you love is ripped away and you’re forced to say goodbye, it’s kind of like hearing every “i love you” and “i hate you” all at once. it’s deafening, numbing, overwhelming and its not something you come back from easily. and i know it hurts how nothing is promised forever but sometimes there’s solace in that. because that means the bad won’t last forever, this darkness won’t surround you forever, these wounds will not bleed you dry forever. so please, hold onto the things close to you even closer. and love. love with everything you’ve got, love until it makes you ******* bleed and remember, you choose who you bleed for. so when you bleed yourself dry, i hope you can see it in you that it was worth it. i hope the person you bleed for also bleeds for you. i hope that that the person you love, loves you back just as much. i hope your heart heals, and more than anything, i hope you find it in you to love when there isn’t much left. love will save you if you let it. please, let it.
Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 1:40 AM UTC
October
it's 1 am and your hair still smells like fire. your fingers keep finding their way to your swollen lips and your mind takes you back 3 hours ago when he first kissed you. a smile is permanently etched into your face for the next couple of weeks.
November
it's new. it's exciting. you laugh with your friends giddily. your hand reaches to your phone with immense speed every time it chimes. when he places his hand on your thigh it still sends chills up your spine.
December
you say 'I love you' without having to think about it anymore. his smile is still sweet and his touch is slightly addicting. your mind is racing and aching with an overwhelming sense of need for him.
January
there have been a couple of late nights spent crying into your pillow. your friends tell you that he's being a **** and you shouldn't have to put up with this. excuses for his actions shoot out of your mouth like cannons. "he's had a bad day" "he didn't mean it" "he felt so bad" he kisses your salty tears away. everything is fine the next day. until it isn't anymore.
February
Valentine's Day was wonderful. the other days were spent with your brain racking up thoughts of inadequacy. his kisses were lustful for more, and no longer filled with the nervousness you once found adorable.
March
you finally get the courage to tell him you're upset. you tell him that he doesn't make you feel wanted anymore, good enough for him. he tells you he's sorry. you're everything he's ever wanted. now every time your face crinkles up he engulfs you in his big arms against his boy smelling shirt. you love him. he's the one for you.
April
people look at you when you're together a second longer in the hallways. he's a little distant but quick to make you feel good with shallow compliments. it's almost like he's trying too hard. it's almost like he feels bad for something and is trying to overcompensate. you continue to reassure yourself that things are fine.
May
some random girl asks if you're okay. you say yes with a tone that suggests you're asking a question. he calls you and asks you to come over. nothing is right. your head is hurting and your eyes have been stinging and rimmed red with tears all day.
7 pm
when he tells you he cheated all you hear is static. how? why? but you don't say those words out loud. you don't cry either. but you feel like you're suffocated, like your bones just turned into mush and you can't get up. you look him in the eyes. he feels bad. you can tell. "who the **** was she?" "what the hell is wrong with you" "no, don't touch me" "get the **** away" door slams. your eyes are blurry as you drive home.
9pm
17 unread messages. 9 missed calls. your pillow is your best friend. car pulls up. bedroom door opens. "I'm so sorry" "I love you" "I don't want to be with anyone else" "you mean more to me than her" "please" "I only want you" you look at him. take all of him in. his messy hair from raking his hands through it like he does when he's nervous. his tired grey eyes with beautiful long lashes. "leave"
11 pm
he left. you're sad. you don't believe you're good enough. you blame yourself. what did you do wrong? did you not care enough? did you not have enough *** why did he have to go find someone else to fill his needs when you've been there this whole time?
1 year later
you went through some rough patches. got back with him 3 times. drank too much. secluded yourself. but then you stopped. he was just a boy. a boy you loved. but he was not your everything. he didn't give you your worth. he wasn't the reason you woke up every morning. making his life better wasn't what you were supposed to do. he's not your ******* sunshine. he's not your early morning coffee. or a hot shower after a long day. he's not a feel good movie or breakfast for dinner. he was a boy. a boy who took you for granted. a boy that made you reevaluate every **** day if you were good enough.
now you know. now you see your beauty. now you don't attach your being to someone else's. now you love yourself first.
Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 1:33 AM UTC
When I can't feel anything, I watch a sad movie or read the ending of sad books and sometimes I wonder why I do things to make me cry instead of laugh until I waste an hour and a half watching a comedy that isn't even funny to remember that the easiest feeling to achieve is heartache. And maybe that's twisted but I don't even remember what twisted is because twisted is my normal.
Sometimes happiness takes place of the emptiness but once it's gone it's like stepping on something sharp on carpet and trying to find it. And that may sound odd because stepping on something sharp is painful but so is a happy person with an anxious mind knowing that in only a matter of time that sweet, warm feeling won't be there anymore.
If someone were to knock on my body, it'd be hollow and they would probably imagine it as cold and damp and decide that it's not worth their time. And maybe that's why I'm alone, because everyone is a little afraid of an abandoned house.
Feb 13, 2016
Feb 13, 2016 at 1:19 PM UTC
You are not the saying
"boys will be boys"
that is so often
casually tossed into your
mind.
You are not the compliment
that ends with
"....for a girl"
that is used
when you do something well.
You are not the length
of your skirt or
the amount of midriff showing.
You are not the catcalls
or whistles
thrown at you while
walking down the street.
You are not the number
of people you've kissed
or slept with.
You are not the tears
you cried when
your heart was broken.
You are not the "no"
that you yelled
at the top of your lungs
that the boy didn't
listen to.
You are not a *****
if you wear skirts
down to your ankles.
And you are not an object.
You are strong.
You are fearless.
You are powerful.
You are smart.
You are thoughtful.
You are woman.
Jan 24, 2016
Jan 24, 2016 at 10:26 PM UTC