caela-bayfield - Hello Poetry

I am half of a person Constantly Half full Half empty Half broken And half whole I am half a person Walking on the silver lining of madness and pain Or love and contempt Drifting between here and already saying goodbye to everyone I meet Please don’t try to fill me up It doesn’t work Love Hatred Anger Ecstasy They all fill me up then overflow until I am only half of a person again.

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Dec 25, 2024

Dec 25, 2024 at 3:55 AM UTC

It’s Christmas Eve and my Psychiatrist is on a Holiday

I am half of a person Constantly Half full Half empty Half broken And half whole I am half a person Walking on the silver lining of madness and pain Or love and contempt Drifting between here and already saying goodbye to everyone I meet Please don’t try to fill me up It doesn’t work Love Hatred Anger Ecstasy They all fill me up then overflow until I am only half of a person again.

18

I’ll reserve Wednesday afternoons for you And 4am sandwich runs to the corner store Text messages from the front seat And playing arcade games while we talk about your grandma I’ll keep a small corner of my mind saved just for you and all the things that bring you back to me I’ll let you occupied the darkest parts of my brain The spaces I can retreat back to, to think of the looks/the smiles But mostly the looks Like I was gold to you And you a thief My eyes begging under neon lights and confetti Steal me/Please Take me away and horde me to yourself Oh the looks we gave each other The life times we built in our minds I’ll keep those moments stored in a secret precious place so that I can keep a little piece of you forever/ while we spend life times apart

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May 1, 2024

May 1, 2024 at 7:44 AM UTC

For You

I’ll reserve Wednesday afternoons for you And 4am sandwich runs to the corner store Text messages from the front seat And playing arcade games while we talk about your grandma I’ll keep a small corner of my mind saved just for you and all the things that bring you back to me I’ll let you occupied the darkest parts of my brain The spaces I can retreat back to, to think of the looks/the smiles But mostly the looks Like I was gold to you And you a thief My eyes begging under neon lights and confetti Steal me/Please Take me away and horde me to yourself Oh the looks we gave each other The life times we built in our minds I’ll keep those moments stored in a secret precious place so that I can keep a little piece of you forever/ while we spend life times apart

20

Take it all back. The books The poems The words. Take back the photos And the laugher And the kisses. Because I don’t want to love you anymore. Take back the songs, And secrets, And moments. Because They leave holes inside of me. I don’t want to love you anymore. I’ll pack it all in a box, Ship it to your house; Or drop it off at your doorstep when your not home. But please, Don’t leave me with all these things that remind me of you, I’ll never be able to move on. So, Take it. Cause I don’t want to love you anymore.

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Feb 17, 2024

Feb 17, 2024 at 5:04 AM UTC

Take it

Take it all back. The books The poems The words. Take back the photos And the laugher And the kisses. Because I don’t want to love you anymore. Take back the songs, And secrets, And moments. Because They leave holes inside of me. I don’t want to love you anymore. I’ll pack it all in a box, Ship it to your house; Or drop it off at your doorstep when your not home. But please, Don’t leave me with all these things that remind me of you, I’ll never be able to move on. So, Take it. Cause I don’t want to love you anymore.

22

We were always missing each other by minutes. In the same place, At the wrong time. Watching the same sunset, From opposite sides of the neighborhood. You were painting, While I was writing. You were living while I was trying, To not fall in love with another boy who’d never notice me. Wishing we had met just a little later When I became the women I wanted to be, When I grew into the girl who would have fit you perfectly. I was always playing the game. Waiting for you. When I’d arrive late, You’d show up even later. When I’d sit in the room, much to soon, Hoping that you’d come early. I would learn that you had left hours ago. We are parallels, Moving in the same direction But a two completely different rates. We were always missing each other. By a minute. By a month. By a life time.

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Feb 16, 2024

Feb 16, 2024 at 8:28 AM UTC

The boy in my college art class

We were always missing each other by minutes. In the same place, At the wrong time. Watching the same sunset, From opposite sides of the neighborhood. You were painting, While I was writing. You were living while I was trying, To not fall in love with another boy who’d never notice me. Wishing we had met just a little later When I became the women I wanted to be, When I grew into the girl who would have fit you perfectly. I was always playing the game. Waiting for you. When I’d arrive late, You’d show up even later. When I’d sit in the room, much to soon, Hoping that you’d come early. I would learn that you had left hours ago. We are parallels, Moving in the same direction But a two completely different rates. We were always missing each other. By a minute. By a month. By a life time.

15

Maybe it’s all the pills they keep piling on One more and I’ll feel better… Maybe its the family genetics finally kicking in that I always thought I out ran… Maybe it’s my twenties Everyone keeps telling me this is how it should feel… Or Maybe it’s the fact that no amount of trazadone can get me too sleep No dose of Adderall will keep me awake Not a gram of Lexapro can make me feel Happy And I just keep trying my ******* best but everyday life finds a new way to kick me in teeth. Maybe it’s my grandma dying, Or that I don’t talk to my brother anymore… Maybe it’s the fact that I sit in this chair once a week saying all these things to a person who is only paid to care and I still tell them everything anyway because if I don’t say it out loud to another person and just keep replaying it in my head over and over one day I’ll start to scream and never stop. I feel like a ghost in a grocery store Starring at the shelves of food wondering why I’m even here. once an old man over the phone at my job told me, “Caela, you’re a good cat” And sometimes that’s the one statement I feel like I can live for.

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Sep 16, 2023

Sep 16, 2023 at 7:57 PM UTC

Ghost in a Grocery Store

Maybe it’s all the pills they keep piling on One more and I’ll feel better… Maybe its the family genetics finally kicking in that I always thought I out ran… Maybe it’s my twenties Everyone keeps telling me this is how it should feel… Or Maybe it’s the fact that no amount of trazadone can get me too sleep No dose of Adderall will keep me awake Not a gram of Lexapro can make me feel Happy And I just keep trying my ******* best but everyday life finds a new way to kick me in teeth. Maybe it’s my grandma dying, Or that I don’t talk to my brother anymore… Maybe it’s the fact that I sit in this chair once a week saying all these things to a person who is only paid to care and I still tell them everything anyway because if I don’t say it out loud to another person and just keep replaying it in my head over and over one day I’ll start to scream and never stop. I feel like a ghost in a grocery store Starring at the shelves of food wondering why I’m even here. once an old man over the phone at my job told me, “Caela, you’re a good cat” And sometimes that’s the one statement I feel like I can live for.

18

I break the men that fall in love with me. I teach them to worship me, Then leave them for suffocating me. I fill their heads with the ideas that I am lucky to have them and that I don’t have the self esteem to leave them. Then one day, hit them with the, “I’ve grown out of you.” I am switch blade with a broken safety feature. I cut whoever’s hand is holding me.

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Sep 7, 2023

Sep 7, 2023 at 3:50 AM UTC

Is it a cycle or a circle?

I break the men that fall in love with me. I teach them to worship me, Then leave them for suffocating me. I fill their heads with the ideas that I am lucky to have them and that I don’t have the self esteem to leave them. Then one day, hit them with the, “I’ve grown out of you.” I am switch blade with a broken safety feature. I cut whoever’s hand is holding me.

8

I cannot express to you an emotion that you have never and will never feel. As you were blessed to be born into a body you love. But if I did try to put it into words, I would say that it is the equivalent of a sense of loss, grief lack of control. A daily and constant reminder. I live in skin that does not belong to me. And no amount of nourishment/starvation/love/hatred, will ever be able to fix the feeling. This is a body but not the one I’m suppose to have.

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Jun 8, 2023

Jun 8, 2023 at 9:40 PM UTC

The Body in The Mirror Looks Like a Monster

I cannot express to you an emotion that you have never and will never feel. As you were blessed to be born into a body you love. But if I did try to put it into words, I would say that it is the equivalent of a sense of loss, grief lack of control. A daily and constant reminder. I live in skin that does not belong to me. And no amount of nourishment/starvation/love/hatred, will ever be able to fix the feeling. This is a body but not the one I’m suppose to have.

13

No one every tells you how hard it is Watching someone you love die slowly. It’s worse Than the quick knife to the heart when their death is sudden. A moment:grief. Then nothingness. But the slow deaths, They ache. Like a growing cancer eating its way out and we acknowledge that there is no cure. Just waiting. Watching. Agonizing. This time will be it. I’m ready. I’ve said my goodbyes. No. Not yet. One more month. And while I wish I could rejoice in this extra time together. I can’t. You’re in pain. I see it. I feel it. You’re suffering And all I can do is watch.

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Jun 2, 2023

Jun 2, 2023 at 4:34 AM UTC

A New Thing to Trauma Bond Over.

No one every tells you how hard it is Watching someone you love die slowly. It’s worse Than the quick knife to the heart when their death is sudden. A moment:grief. Then nothingness. But the slow deaths, They ache. Like a growing cancer eating its way out and we acknowledge that there is no cure. Just waiting. Watching. Agonizing. This time will be it. I’m ready. I’ve said my goodbyes. No. Not yet. One more month. And while I wish I could rejoice in this extra time together. I can’t. You’re in pain. I see it. I feel it. You’re suffering And all I can do is watch.

19

Know that if you are to leave, you can always come back.

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Jun 2, 2023

Jun 2, 2023 at 4:25 AM UTC

It’s Simple.

Know that if you are to leave, you can always come back.

2

I am what they call aggressively in love my feelings punch me in the gut and beat me till I am blue. I am what they call depressively in love it doesn’t make me happy to feel this much. What you call butterflies I feel as knives. I’m anxious and I’m angry. and I don’t want these feelings.

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Aug 11, 2020

Aug 11, 2020 at 2:39 AM UTC

Dies by butterflies

I am what they call aggressively in love my feelings punch me in the gut and beat me till I am blue. I am what they call depressively in love it doesn’t make me happy to feel this much. What you call butterflies I feel as knives. I’m anxious and I’m angry. and I don’t want these feelings.

8