Like a river flowing over a cliff,
Slipping into infinity,
I walked to that place of solitude,
The edge of myself.
Testing whether to jump, I called out to Sanity.
We are but acquaintances in this life. I watched and waited, but It never stopped me.
Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 6:09 PM UTC
You are the book that everyone tells me not to read.
You are the worn book in the darkened corner of the library that sits on the highest shelf.
But is it wrong that my heart is drawn to the darkness and deepness of what I know that I cannot have, to feel the desire and give into the temptation to climb the mountains of worn oak to reach you.
You, my dear, are the leather bound, Scarlett-lettered memoir that I want to pick up, grasp in my hands, and open.
I want to learn about what they say is forbidden.
I want to read what I'm not supposed to want.
I want to know you.
Sep 19, 2016
Sep 19, 2016 at 8:11 AM UTC
He rattles off a list perfectly
worded for a bio
meant for girls other than me.
But I’m caught up in it...
in him.
I glance at the muddy brown of his eyes
and the narrow angle of his face.
I sink deeper, holding on to the intonation
of his voice as he speaks;
All while attempting to not smile
when I realize we share yet another
thing in common.
So I tell him horror stories,
swipes gone wrong, in hopes that
Maybe he’ll pause, see me, and
swipe right on reality instead.
Dec 8, 2015
Dec 8, 2015 at 10:01 PM UTC
To say that we are a math problem,
good+bad=all,
only shows that your good
and my bad
would be a black answer crossed out with
thick red ink.
You are not the sum, the answer,
to my brokenness.
Dec 8, 2015
Dec 8, 2015 at 9:05 PM UTC
Your name still rests in the bottom of my conversations,
thousands of texts ecapsulated in beautifully painful bows.
And for some reason, on the difficult days like today, when seeing your name is the last thing I need,
I scroll through the ending.
Our ending.
"I love you." "I miss you." Wash.
"Whatever." "I'm not dealing with this tonight." Rinse.
Repeat.
I never really understood how easy it was to say so much, but still say nothing at all.
You are the punishment that never seems to end.
Our pictures still rest, dusting, in my photo box.
Your letters rot slowly in my subconscious and my dresser drawer.
Your face still appears nightly, haunting my nightmares.
You are the dates I never got to have,
the memories I never got to make,
the boy I still cry over when life leaves me weak.
I wonder if you saw today's date, and for a second, you missed me. Because I only seem to miss the wash, rinse, repeat when I'm breathing.
Sep 22, 2015
Sep 22, 2015 at 1:37 AM UTC
Months have rolled by.
More like trudged past, like boots stuck in mud during the rain.
Your name tastes like mint and memory flavored poison on my tongue, and yet my mind wants to reminisce; remember you as "home".
But all that you left behind from your invasion was falling brick and a shaky foundation.
I believed that I was the city that held its walls high enough to protect you from the world.
From yourself.
But cannon fire rings the loudest when it's fired from within.
And even still, I find myself forgiving you.
Not because you deserve my forgiveness, but because these broken and battered walls of my heart can no longer carry the burden of your name.
Sep 6, 2015
Sep 6, 2015 at 1:38 PM UTC
He took the ever-revolving door out of my life, and ever since I have been in a constant state of longing.
A craving for some semblance of normalcy.
A hope that my broken pieces stand a chance of becoming more than he left behind.
I want to be a mosaic.
I will be my own constant reminder of who I am now; a work of art, beautiful despite the cracks.
A heart, made better than it was before.
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 9:00 PM UTC
In the months since you left, I have stared, blankfaced, waiting for a single moment of inspiration.
Poised with my pen, prepared to write the greatest breakup poem.
But all I feel is nothingness.
My mind is a screaming black hole with your name on it that has ****** every ounce of creativity from these fingertips that used to ebb and flow with words.
I am the nothingness that you created.
Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 9:03 PM UTC
The lips I kissed tonight,
didn't taste like you.
And the cotton shirt that I
clung to didn't smell like you.
So I kissed him harder and
pulled him closer,
pushing you deeper into my
memories, always trying
to forget that
my lips,
and my arms,
weren't enough for you either.
Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 12:00 AM UTC