cassandra-forte - Hello Poetry

I can’t be a lot of things: those leaves in the wind allowing a breeze to control them, the lonely cabin in a forgotten forest, rotting from too much rain, the broken shoots of grass stepped and trampled on, the complex words you use so regularly unaware of their true meaning, the transparent glass house with shattered walls and rooms of stones , the men and women in suits casually walking the streets, nameless and rushing, all the product in your hair hiding natural things and looking shiny, full sheets of paper covered in notes thrown away once the class is passed, the ****** books and movies so many people enjoy and converse about, high noon when everything’s illuminated and the shadows have disappeared, the abbreviated words in meaningless text messages answering questions in the shortest way possible, the maddening silence when you sleep alone with the street lights blaring through the blinds. I can’t be simple. I can’t be bright. I can’t be whole. I can’t be meaningless. I can’t be alone. I can’t be the same. I can’t be okay.

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Mar 1, 2012

Mar 1, 2012 at 1:34 PM UTC

Couldn't be.

I can’t be a lot of things: those leaves in the wind allowing a breeze to control them, the lonely cabin in a forgotten forest, rotting from too much rain, the broken shoots of grass stepped and trampled on, the complex words you use so regularly unaware of their true meaning, the transparent glass house with shattered walls and rooms of stones , the men and women in suits casually walking the streets, nameless and rushing, all the product in your hair hiding natural things and looking shiny, full sheets of paper covered in notes thrown away once the class is passed, the ****** books and movies so many people enjoy and converse about, high noon when everything’s illuminated and the shadows have disappeared, the abbreviated words in meaningless text messages answering questions in the shortest way possible, the maddening silence when you sleep alone with the street lights blaring through the blinds. I can’t be simple. I can’t be bright. I can’t be whole. I can’t be meaningless. I can’t be alone. I can’t be the same. I can’t be okay.

33

I used to be unsure, Did this and that to ‘find myself’. I used to have changing feelings, Happy now and again, and sad, too. I used to try my best, Get it all done, done well, then play. I used to have boundaries, Don’t touch me there; I’m not taking that. I used to care what people thought, Apologizing and laughing when appropriate. I used to have interests and desires, Be what I should, I want to know more. **** that. Now , I know what I am, Monstrous and dangerously alone. Now, I feel very little, Usually numb or apathetic. Now, I do what I feel okay with, A little here and there, sometimes all. Now, I can’t say no, Do what you want, give me what you have. Now, you can all go to hell, Approval is overrated and I hate you anyway. Now, I know what I want and need, Give me a journal and a pen. Give me cigarettes and coffee. Give me *** and ***** Give me an idea and a place to go. Give me a story and somewhere to write. Give me nothing. It’s already there.

0

Mar 1, 2012

Mar 1, 2012 at 1:33 PM UTC

Untitled

I used to be unsure, Did this and that to ‘find myself’. I used to have changing feelings, Happy now and again, and sad, too. I used to try my best, Get it all done, done well, then play. I used to have boundaries, Don’t touch me there; I’m not taking that. I used to care what people thought, Apologizing and laughing when appropriate. I used to have interests and desires, Be what I should, I want to know more. **** that. Now , I know what I am, Monstrous and dangerously alone. Now, I feel very little, Usually numb or apathetic. Now, I do what I feel okay with, A little here and there, sometimes all. Now, I can’t say no, Do what you want, give me what you have. Now, you can all go to hell, Approval is overrated and I hate you anyway. Now, I know what I want and need, Give me a journal and a pen. Give me cigarettes and coffee. Give me *** and ***** Give me an idea and a place to go. Give me a story and somewhere to write. Give me nothing. It’s already there.

31

Not sick of winter, I like my fingers numb. Don’t care about appearances, I like my hair wild and colorful. Won’t do the work, I like being free and untroubled. Can’t say your name, I like the silence and loneliness. Shouldn’t quit smoking, I like controlling my own death. Wouldn’t stop drinking, I like when people tolerate me. Couldn’t be myself, I like showing you this mask.

0

Mar 1, 2012

Mar 1, 2012 at 1:32 PM UTC

Lots of negatives.

Not sick of winter, I like my fingers numb. Don’t care about appearances, I like my hair wild and colorful. Won’t do the work, I like being free and untroubled. Can’t say your name, I like the silence and loneliness. Shouldn’t quit smoking, I like controlling my own death. Wouldn’t stop drinking, I like when people tolerate me. Couldn’t be myself, I like showing you this mask.

14

Mother told me to be brave. Father told me he wouldn’t tell. Sister told me to have fun. Mother gave me food. Father gave me money. Sister gave me drugs. Mother told me too much. Father told me too little. Sister shared her thoughts with me. Mother screamed at me. Father ignored me. Sister blamed me. Mother cried to me. Father lied to me. Sister left me. Mother lost me. Father never had me. Sister is still finding me. Mother invaded me. Father destroyed me. Sister scared me. Mother was proud of me. Father was proud of me. Sister was proud of me. Mother made me angry. Father made me sad. Sister made me laugh. Mother hugged me. Father kissed me. Sister held me. I wanted none of it, and all of it at once.

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Mar 1, 2012

Mar 1, 2012 at 1:32 PM UTC

Typical Dysfunction.

Mother told me to be brave. Father told me he wouldn’t tell. Sister told me to have fun. Mother gave me food. Father gave me money. Sister gave me drugs. Mother told me too much. Father told me too little. Sister shared her thoughts with me. Mother screamed at me. Father ignored me. Sister blamed me. Mother cried to me. Father lied to me. Sister left me. Mother lost me. Father never had me. Sister is still finding me. Mother invaded me. Father destroyed me. Sister scared me. Mother was proud of me. Father was proud of me. Sister was proud of me. Mother made me angry. Father made me sad. Sister made me laugh. Mother hugged me. Father kissed me. Sister held me. I wanted none of it, and all of it at once.

31

We have spectacular moments. We have deep conversations. I call her many names: Smoking buddy. Liquored up. My sense of humor. Opened up to. Shared experience. Peer pressure. Free of judgement. Acceptance and giggles. Sobriety is not our Forte. Challenge accepted. I beat you. Pass the jungle juice. Spike the coffee. Smoke a square. Spark up that bowl. We aren’t dull. We aren’t complete. We are dumb. We are lost. A version of myself. A version of her. She doesn’t always say ‘yes’. But ‘no’ can be quite rare. She knows some secrets. She’s seen some scars. Boundaries broken. Nights of puking. Open opinions. Desired suggestions. This is only the beginning. of a co-dependent friendship.

0

Mar 1, 2012

Mar 1, 2012 at 1:31 PM UTC

Kovaliness

We have spectacular moments. We have deep conversations. I call her many names: Smoking buddy. Liquored up. My sense of humor. Opened up to. Shared experience. Peer pressure. Free of judgement. Acceptance and giggles. Sobriety is not our Forte. Challenge accepted. I beat you. Pass the jungle juice. Spike the coffee. Smoke a square. Spark up that bowl. We aren’t dull. We aren’t complete. We are dumb. We are lost. A version of myself. A version of her. She doesn’t always say ‘yes’. But ‘no’ can be quite rare. She knows some secrets. She’s seen some scars. Boundaries broken. Nights of puking. Open opinions. Desired suggestions. This is only the beginning. of a co-dependent friendship.

34

Reminders and meanings, I need them to keep me going. The wrist was the most painful; veins rattling, blood drying and crumbling, pale, thin flesh violated, permanently blackened, but a pretty font. Simple but powerful. It tells me not to be like Her. It tells me not to be like Them. It tells me not to be Afraid. It tells me to say ‘Yes’. It tells me I’m not actually Dead. The shoulder is stained, too. A life philosophy in the words of a literary God. It tells me what to expect. It tells me to stay grounded. It tells me to keep caution. It tells me how the world works. It tells me what I am. Complex but honest. I need a little fun in there. Hidden away, but don’t take myself too seriously. It tells me of my childhood. It tells me of my friends. It tells me I’m a nerd. It tells me I’m a kid. It tells me to remember. Symbolic but silly.

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Mar 1, 2012

Mar 1, 2012 at 1:31 PM UTC

Tattoos

Reminders and meanings, I need them to keep me going. The wrist was the most painful; veins rattling, blood drying and crumbling, pale, thin flesh violated, permanently blackened, but a pretty font. Simple but powerful. It tells me not to be like Her. It tells me not to be like Them. It tells me not to be Afraid. It tells me to say ‘Yes’. It tells me I’m not actually Dead. The shoulder is stained, too. A life philosophy in the words of a literary God. It tells me what to expect. It tells me to stay grounded. It tells me to keep caution. It tells me how the world works. It tells me what I am. Complex but honest. I need a little fun in there. Hidden away, but don’t take myself too seriously. It tells me of my childhood. It tells me of my friends. It tells me I’m a nerd. It tells me I’m a kid. It tells me to remember. Symbolic but silly.

32

I have burned myself I have cut away skin and tissue Watching red dot from the straight, thin line. I have covered up my face I have darkened my eyes and let my hair flop in front Seeing the world through a curtain of brown, thick and disorienting. There are scars scattered There are traces of so many wars Making patterns on pale flesh, beauty is what I decide. There are ways to disappear There is always time to lie Being away from those who can hurt you, it's more than a profession.

0

Feb 27, 2012

Feb 27, 2012 at 2:42 PM UTC

Meanderings

I have burned myself I have cut away skin and tissue Watching red dot from the straight, thin line. I have covered up my face I have darkened my eyes and let my hair flop in front Seeing the world through a curtain of brown, thick and disorienting. There are scars scattered There are traces of so many wars Making patterns on pale flesh, beauty is what I decide. There are ways to disappear There is always time to lie Being away from those who can hurt you, it's more than a profession.

12

Will you still love me when my makeup’s black smudges across my face? Will you still love me when I drink too much and bile’s lurking in my mouth? Will you still love me when I’m chain-smoking on the porch and my teeth are all stained? Will you still love me when I don’t know what to say and I can’t make you feel better? Will you still love me when I go for long walks and don’t come back for days? Will you still love me when we wake up and I can’t bare to look at you? Will you still love me when I won’t budge and have stopped making sense? Will you still love me When I tell you I just don’t know anymore and am not sure I ever did? Will you still love me when I’m completely reckless and choose a drug-induced haze? Will you still love me when I scream obscenities and say how much I hate you? Will you still love me when I’m restless and impulsive and decide to drive from Chicago to L.A.? Will you still love me when I can’t tell you everything and need to be alone? Will you still love me when I don’t call for days and then fall in love with you again? Will you still love me when I make mistakes and feel I don’t deserve forgiveness? Will you still love me when I question all that I am and yell that I was never good enough? Will you still love me when the music stops and we can’t think of what to say? Will you still love me when I need to write and sktech and question the value of what I made? Will you still love me when my mind is melting and I act like the shell of who I was? Will you still love me when I make stupid jokes and criticize myself? Will you still love me when I don’t want to eat anymore and survive only on coffee and water? Will you still love me when I beg you to sing and your voice is fading and harsh? Will you still love me when I think about my past and can’t get out of bed? Will you still love me when I’m cynical and despondent and everything’s unreal? Will you still love me when I hurt myself and still feel numb? Will you still love me when I don’t make sense and I need to destroy **** Will you still love me when I admit how isolated I am and you can’t convince me to open up? Will you still love me when I push you away and need you to stay? Will you still love me when I can’t see straight and I’m okay with dying? Will you still love me when I’m awkward and shy and do anything to avoid your eyes? Will you still love me when I think I want to leave and know I can’t? Will you still love me when I run to the city and I’m sick of seeing these stars? Will you still love me when I’m picky and annoyed and just need to scream? Will you still love me when I tell you what I am and how you just can’t fix the shattered bits? Will you still love me when I need all the blankets and it’s winter outside? Will you still love me when I spend all our money on ***** and cigarettes and pills? Will you still love me when I’m losing control and the only thing spinning is my head? Will you still love me when I’ve gone crazy and won’t listen to a thing you say? Will you still love me when I write my world in ink and eat the pages so you can’t read them? Will you still love me when I’ve written this all for you and it’s not even good? Will you still love me when I’ve written this all for you and won’t ever let you see it? Will you still love me when I’ve written this all for you and will never mention it? Will you still love me when I’ve written this all for you and I’ve lost sleep over you? Will you still love me when I’ve written this all for you and I’ve decided it’s all impossible? Will you still love me when I’ve written this all for you and you couldn’t ever see me “that way”? Will you still love me when I’ve written this all for you and you never even loved me at all? Could you ever love me when I’m insane and too scared to try?

0

Feb 26, 2012

Feb 26, 2012 at 11:28 PM UTC

Will you still love me?

138

My mind is shattered Green glass bottles lining a city curb My body is scarred Battle wounds from an inner war I am awkward and shy Mouths go mute and sound becomes silence I am weird and uneducated Care about myself like pigs care about wings I choose emptiness and haze Love is a fantasy, let the tab dissolve I choose lies and incomplete thoughts As interesting as a white wall But I want you Poetic mottos, background story, fluttering ideas But I can’t have you Age, timing, hopelessness, broken, sinner.

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Feb 26, 2012

Feb 26, 2012 at 11:27 PM UTC

Struggles of a Wretch

My mind is shattered Green glass bottles lining a city curb My body is scarred Battle wounds from an inner war I am awkward and shy Mouths go mute and sound becomes silence I am weird and uneducated Care about myself like pigs care about wings I choose emptiness and haze Love is a fantasy, let the tab dissolve I choose lies and incomplete thoughts As interesting as a white wall But I want you Poetic mottos, background story, fluttering ideas But I can’t have you Age, timing, hopelessness, broken, sinner.

16

Would it be okay if we played pretend? if we didn’t have to label this? if we could share our worlds? I need this right now. Would it be okay if I let you see my wounds? if you traced them with your fingers? if you kissed them with your lips? I need this right now. Would it be okay if we went back to your place? if we drank and smoked too much? if we fell asleep looking at each other? I need this right now. Would it be okay if we opened all the baggage? if we accepted how broken our souls are? if we allowed the sadness to seep in? I need this right now. Would it be okay if we played the music quietly? if you sang along? if I listened to your voice? I need this right now. Would it be okay if we acted like life was perfect? if we kept this to ourselves? if this moment lasted forever? I need this right now.

0

Feb 26, 2012

Feb 26, 2012 at 11:27 PM UTC

I need this right now.

Would it be okay if we played pretend? if we didn’t have to label this? if we could share our worlds? I need this right now. Would it be okay if I let you see my wounds? if you traced them with your fingers? if you kissed them with your lips? I need this right now. Would it be okay if we went back to your place? if we drank and smoked too much? if we fell asleep looking at each other? I need this right now. Would it be okay if we opened all the baggage? if we accepted how broken our souls are? if we allowed the sadness to seep in? I need this right now. Would it be okay if we played the music quietly? if you sang along? if I listened to your voice? I need this right now. Would it be okay if we acted like life was perfect? if we kept this to ourselves? if this moment lasted forever? I need this right now.

30