as i comb through wet strands
and witness the gentleness
of the teeth
pull loose hair
that didn't want to stay
i'm catapulted into the past
when poisoned cells
tore the locks from my head
in a desperate attempt to live
i did not realize
that when the cells stopped killing themselves
the hair would still fall
unmolested but pulled free
as easily as it did before
there are more ways than one
to tell that something has been lost
its not just the noticeable scar
or the two bottles of pills
or the doctor's appointments
every two-three months
it's the hair that continues to fall
in mourning of what was lost
and what can never be again
Mar 29, 2019
Mar 29, 2019 at 2:04 PM UTC
gulping down the agony
your irises shift like your schizophrenic sister
at the annual Christmas party
alone in a corner
whispering family drama
to air shaped like a person.
you ****** your head forward
like the motion would rattle loose
the thoughts that are stapled inside.
you breathe out in relief
when you find they’re gone
and the only person
you ever have to trust again
is yourself.
sigh out the real truth
you don’t trust yourself
as far as you can throw yourself
and you crash landed into rock bottom.
sometimes you wish you were like your sister
the only friends she needed were in her head
but you can’t get anyone to stay longer than a few months
you think the problem was choosing the wrong people
you just attract the bad ones
but you’re probably the monster
you just can’t see it
who can blame you
you wonder if your sister knows she’s crazy
because in her world she’s probably
the sanest one there
you wonder if she’ll let you visit
book an express ticket to straightjacket town
meet the friends she’s imagined
but feel more real than any friend you’ve ever had.
you realize that she might have to swallow
tic tac imposters on a daily basis
to keep the world inside her
not outside of her
but at least she doesn’t have to be this
lonely.
there are no friends in your head.
Mar 1, 2019
Mar 1, 2019 at 4:35 PM UTC
its been five hours since surgery
and my mom sits in the lightly padded wooden chair next to me
laughing harder than I’ve heard her laugh in a long time
the cause of her laughter is the sound of the voice
they couldn’t get rid of in me
because it cracks like a teenage boys’ on the verge of puberty
it hurts to, but I laugh along with her
not just because I can find the humor in it
but because only a few hours ago
I was in tears, happier than I’ve been in a long time
because I actually woke up.
because the cancer couldn’t get me.
Oct 28, 2018
Oct 28, 2018 at 11:56 AM UTC
The apologizes hurt,
the promises sting,
your once beautiful words,
no longer mean a thing.
You never cheated
but you always lied.
A truth as true as these tears I cry.
You never beat me
you never raised a hand.
but you never kissed me
and always me sad.
You wouldn’t let me leave
even when I begged and begged to go.
Keeping me chained up, and hollow.
Two girls “in love”
with a future bright and true
oh, nothing makes me happier
than the day I decided to leave you.
Sep 25, 2018
Sep 25, 2018 at 4:19 PM UTC
You’re straight because you mistook your discomfort around men as attraction.
You’re straight because the one man who should have loved you, didn’t.
You’re straight because the media makes love look like a man and a woman.
You’re straight because of the look of disgust on your mother’s face when she asked you if you were “experimenting” with your best friend and the tone with which she said “good” when you answered “no,” the first lie you’ve spoken to her.
You’re straight because your grandfather calls lesbians “carpet m%nchers” and gay men “c%cksuckers”.
You’re straight because your great grandmother would rather you end up with a man of color than another woman, and she’s terribly racist.
You’re straight because the love you were denied by your father has to be fulfilled by some other man, like it’s his fault your father couldn’t find love in his heart for his own children.
You’re straight because everyone asks if you if you have a boyfriend.
You’re straight because every man who was ever nice to you, you seemed to fall a little bit in love with.
You’re straight because your aunt and uncle started a facebook argument with you over the bible’s interpretation of homosexuals, and you just couldn’t let that go.
You’re straight because you think brunette women are beautiful, but you don’t feel more beautiful after you turn your blonde hair brown.
You’re straight because you think the feelings of attraction you’ve ever gotten towards a woman were just normal because you’ve never had crushes on them.
You’re straight because you’ve never had a boyfriend, even when there were men interested.
Think of the lie you would have lived
if you didn’t recognize the truth in all those lies
you thought were genuine feelings.
Sep 15, 2018
Sep 15, 2018 at 2:22 PM UTC
I am not a well to be pulled from.
I am not a dumpsite.
I am a human being.
And taking from me without giving an equal amount in return
is no way to keep me in your life.
I will leave the moment it happens
because the first person to do that to me took and took
until I needed medication to fill me back up again.
I am tired of being a landfill drowning in other people's trash.
Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 1:00 PM UTC
She was a stranger.
Cute, freckled, one of the most beautiful smiles.
And when she looked at me it felt right.
He was a stranger.
Nice eyes, a full beard, tall and burly.
His eyes glanced my way one too many times to be coincidental.
With her I felt comfortable, at ease.
It felt right to smile at her and laugh with her,
and even though I knew it would go nowhere it made me happy.
With him I felt a dull excitement, a small thrill.
It felt good knowing that there was a man around that wanted me,
even though I was sure that I didn't want him.
And that is how I know.
Because laughing and smiling at a new girl felt closer to love
than the lingering lustful looks of an unknown man I was told already wanted me.
I used to grasp onto the smallest bit of attention from a man,
falling over myself with feelings at the mere possibility of being loved by one. Its been years since I've felt that way, I've outgrown the falsehoods about what I thought I knew.
I belong with a woman, I just know I do.
Jun 28, 2018
Jun 28, 2018 at 10:20 PM UTC
It left a physical scar - a quarter inch thick and two inch long slice on the front of my throat. It sits there, a bump in what was the once uninterrupted expanse of smooth skin. The redness an obvious and unavoidable contrast to the paleness that surrounds it. A reminder of what was - of weakness, illness, the minor but distinct threat of death, the reminder of a strength I didn’t know I had until I had no other choice but to muster it up.
But it’s the emotional scar that bothers me more. They took the ***** out but the rage stayed. Its burrowed its way into the spot that hunk of human tissue used to call home and its only grown since -
moving in,
unpacking all of its things,
painting the walls,
adopting the frustrating habit of always being late on its rent.
Morphing me into someone that I don’t entirely understand anymore.
Someone so stupid and reckless that I don’t care if it ends up killing me.
Sometimes I think the cancer never really left.
That I just took its place
An understudy that plays the same role,
maybe just not as well as the lead can,
but well enough that its hard to remember
that the lead was replaced to begin with.
Jun 22, 2018
Jun 22, 2018 at 8:00 AM UTC
every birthday candle wish was a wish for love
for someone to see me and love me for it
but then i got a taste of a relationship
and from now on
every birthday candle wish will be for solitude
to remain alone and happy
because the taste i got was so sour
i ***** a little every time i think about it now
Jun 1, 2018
Jun 1, 2018 at 10:16 PM UTC
When some people think of their childhood home
they're greeted with fond nostalgia and warm smiles
memories that feel good to remember.
When I think of my childhood home
I'm greeted with flashes of emotional abuse and constant fear
an iron box that took my childhood and left it bare.
May 29, 2018
May 29, 2018 at 8:36 PM UTC