I really don't know why I can't stop,
why I smile when I see your name appear.
I swear to my core and will until I die
you're no longer welcome here.
So stop with your jokes, opinions, and smiles.
Your attempts to get back in.
I hope that you'll find that you can hurt me with words.
But even with the worst ones, you'll never win.
You're the reason the sun is scared to shine.
You're the reason I hate trying new things.
This town is a graveyard because of you.
So what's the point of making yourself King?
Every word you say is an unwritten tombstone,
the songs you sing have no tune.
But just like a fly to a light,
I long to be burned again by you.
Apr 21, 2020
Apr 21, 2020 at 11:13 PM UTC
I felt things,
but I didn't want to look weak in front of you.
I didn't ever tell you,
but I thought you'd just know.
I felt things.
I felt like I was at home.
I felt like all of the places I'd gone
led me here.
Here. Or I mean there.
The breeze was indecisive.
The mosquitoes were ever present.
There were people, as always, watching.
Watching, waiting. Ready and alert.
But we didn't care.
The world could wait.
In those moments,
I knew that our hearts were made of the same.
The same emptiness.
The same hopeless hopefulness.
The same visions of the future.
But also the same tangled knot.
The knot.
The knot that couldn't be untied.
The world could wait.
Our hands weren't meant to hold each others.
We held them anyway.
This feeling was an accident,
but it seemed impossible not to try it.
The world could wait.
I knew by the way you hugged me,
you wished for the same miracle I did.
The miracle that this might accidentally work.
Do you ever accidentally remember when:
The seats were back.
We were nervous and we knew the truth.
But we accidentally held each other anyway.
I tried to tell you
what had happened to me,
why I was scared.
You didn't notice, so I thought that
The world could wait.
You felt like home. You said something.
I couldn't hear over the sound
of both of our hearts.
I didn't want to ask.
The world could wait.
You probably didn't notice
the day I fell in love with you.
I never could tell you.
But I thought it could wait.
After all, we had the rest of our lives.
Except, you forgot to call.
You forgot to remember.
My days weren't your days anymore.
It was okay.
The world couldn't always wait.
We still had the same.
Your smile was still mine.
Our future was still ours.
But your time wasn't mine.
Could the world wait?
I wasn't worried.
We were stronger than that.
The days were a little bit longer, though.
Until one day, I felt a few strings
being torn from the knot.
But it wasn't from my heart.
What happened to hopelessly hopeful?
The world didn't wait.
My heart is still somewhere back there.
It may be lost in the park
or in the passenger seat next to you.
Yours is somewhere I can't reach.
I still feel things.
I'm still feeling the breeze.
I'm still annoyed by the mosquitoes.
I'm still waiting for you.
Apr 17, 2020
Apr 17, 2020 at 7:01 PM UTC
What will it take for you to notice me?
I look right at you.
Then I look away.
What will it take for you to read my mind?
I'm thinking of a thousand ways I want to love you,
and they'll stay trapped inside my mind.
What will it take for you to know how you hurt me?
I want to make you feel what I felt,
but it hurts when I see you in pain.
What will it take for you to leave me alone?
I hate your unreadable face
but it's all I see.
I'd **** myself a thousand times
and fall down at your feet.
Your heart runs too fast for me to catch up and ask
What will it take?
Apr 15, 2020
Apr 15, 2020 at 11:19 PM UTC
We played together
when I was too young to remember.
You fed and clothed me,
not that you had a choice.
You were my parents
before I knew I was missing one.
You held me when I cried
and brushed my tangled hair.
We played together,
running around outside,
eating inedible things,
dancing in the rain.
We fought each other.
I was the smallest,
but you made me feel taller.
I was the traffic cop
when I was too little to ride a bike.
We fought each other.
I cried when you played without me.
I cried when you knocked over my castles,
but you always helped me rebuild them.
We cried together.
We felt each other's pain
and spoke with silence
when words were not enough.
We fought each other.
I was too little to understand, you said.
We kicked and hit each other.
I said I'd tell. I never did.
We played together,
even when the others stopped playing.
Even when they left and didn't come back.
You made me laugh so I forgot.
We played together
until one day, we stopped.
We didn't want to play,
not even for a little while.
We still fought each other.
We ignored each other
until we got lonely
and forgot to stay mad.
We still cried together
when we could hear screaming
and yelling through the walls.
We still had each other,
until we didn't.
You didn't want to fight or cry
with me anymore.
We don't play together.
I sit alone and wonder
about the fun
you guys have together.
We don't fight each other,
but my mind is always at war.
We don't cry together.
I sit and I cry alone.
But sometimes, I remember
that we played together.
Apr 15, 2020
Apr 15, 2020 at 10:01 PM UTC
A kite with faded colors
and unwoven threads,
once made with care,
now not much more than shreds.
It hovered with sorrow
longing to fly free,
but found it was held fast
by an unwavering string.
The cord was not much to look at,
most people would say.
But it was charming to the kite
in its own humble way.
It was vulnerable in places
and had a knot here and there,
but it never once faltered.
In its task, it took care.
It held the kite tightly
and made sure it stayed.
Otherwise, the high aiming kite
would surely float away.
Although the twine was secure,
gripping the helpless kite,
without the kite’s grasp,
the string would never take flight.
The able piece of rope would’ve
spent all its days
lying dormant on the dust,
never to be raised.
The kite helped it dream,
to see the sky and clouds,
and the string made sure
they both stayed near the ground.
The kite had seen other ropes,
crafted more tasteful and long.
They were appealing on the surface,
but never as strong.
They always broke off,
not steady enough to stay,
but this plain, simple cord
was there day after day.
The kite learned to love it,
saw beauty out and inside.
They weren’t sure if they’d make it,
but they’d undoubtedly try
to hold each other in place
until the end of their time.
A simple, sound string
and a half-broken kite.
Apr 15, 2020
Apr 15, 2020 at 12:50 AM UTC