I'm surrounded by statues,
sculpted perfectly without flaw.
perfect expression, perfect stance.
All of their pieces fit together,
authored with delicate pieces of porcelain.
reflecting each glint of light the way it was designed to be.
Light shines through them,
as I sit in the shadows of their figure.
Will I ever be good enough to put on display?
Apr 23, 2022
Apr 23, 2022 at 12:03 AM UTC
I am lost in a maze that I built myself.
I put up each wall to remind myself to not go down that path again.
To block the feelings, the people, the thoughts, the actions that took a piece of me.
Each time I felt weaker, but promised myself these walls would help me stay whole.
I built a barrier between me and whatever was taking control of me.
I realized what was happening again, I built another wall.
But now I'm at a dead end. trapped by the walls I thought would protect me. I have no where to go, and only I hold a map to this maze.
I only know how to build, not to take down. I don't want to know what's behind the walls, but I can't stay trapped forever.
the first hit will be the hardest, but maybe ill find the pieces I've lost on the way back to the start.
Apr 22, 2022
Apr 22, 2022 at 11:50 PM UTC
7:07
the sun is shining through the arms of the trees, casting broken golden shadows.
I think of you.
7:12
the sun sinks and kisses the horizon. the sky is painted by the remnants of its rays.
I think of us.
7:15
the sun is barely there. The only evidence of the day is the color it has left behind.
Are we sinking too?
7:21
I feel relief as I look and can no longer see the sun. Something once so beautiful.
It is able to set everyday. It rests without hesitation.
I envy the sun.
7:28
Sunsets are inevitable. it represents the end but people still look at them in awe.
Twenty minutes of watching and wait for the day to end.
In my heart, I know our love is like this sunset.
10:19
I lay, not knowing if I want the sun to rise.
Apr 22, 2022
Apr 22, 2022 at 11:21 PM UTC
Only air separates the soles of my feet and the dirt on the ground.
Up and down
and up and down.
I feel weightless and light
and then sink with the heaviness of rushing back to the ground.
My eyes lock into yours.
I watch that as you go up
Earth catches me and drags me back to her.
When I go up
I feel nothing but the guilt of you being on the ground.
I have stopped pushing off.
My flight is dependent on how much you bend your knees.
But I am afraid if I get off, I will not be able to rise on my own.
So I cling on to the cold metal that connects us.
As I rise, I make my self heavy to sink back into the ground,
into my grave.
I hope for balance,
but until then its
Up and down
and up and down.
Apr 13, 2022
Apr 13, 2022 at 6:49 PM UTC
my shorts stuck to the back of my thighs as I walked up the brick steps. I hear the brakes of the bus sigh as they are released.
I grab the rusted door handle and look through the spider-webbed window.
I step in and the cold air stings my face and seeks into my nostrils and travels down the back of my throat.
I see you passed out face first on the couch.
I envy the feeling you have, the sweat being dried against the cool black leather. What relief that must be
Like a cold bath after a fever breaks.
I know your fever is rising but you won't say it.
but your silence and opened pill bottles tell me everything while you're asleep.
Apr 29, 2021
Apr 29, 2021 at 11:34 AM UTC
The grey puddles splash against the falling drops of the shallow sky.
I can feel the clouds grow closer to my ears as the the thunder seeps in through every pore on my cheeks.
The cars push each others tires along and Ive always hated traffic but my mind is hoping for a stand still.
I know that when I get to you I will have to climb through the labyrinth of tubes and wires to find your soul still fighting, mute out the beeping of the machine that is pushing life into your flooded lungs.
My giant of life, the stonewall of my heart.
I never knew they made hospital gowns big enough for you.
Apr 29, 2021
Apr 29, 2021 at 11:19 AM UTC
I think I am always going to love harder than I will ever be loved in return.
I always have.
I loved you in ways I didn't even know. I loved you even when you no longer loved me. I loved you even when you were loving her. You were in her bed, in her heart, while I shivered in ours because you weren't there and mine was growing cold.
Thankfully, I no longer worry about your love. I told myself I was never going to love like that again. I built four walls around myself so that the love I wanted to give couldn't escape, and disappoint me again.
But now He's here. He broke down those walls and I let him. He came in and tore down the person I was because of the love you didn't give. He pried back open my heart and taught me to love again, to trust again. Sometimes I still worry that I am loving too hard again. But I stop, and take breath
Because loving too hard means I am loving him. And to love him is worth it all.
Feb 19, 2021
Feb 19, 2021 at 10:22 PM UTC
The August air suffocated me just like his words used to.
It was all too new, I was alone, and walking into a room full of people. My lungs were jumping out of my chest and I kept my hands by my side so you couldn't see them shake.
I walked into the chapel, took my seat, and told myself to not look as empty as I felt.
And then you walked in. My eyes latched onto you because it was the first glimpse of goodness that they had seen in so long. You sat next to me.
You were see-through. Not invisible, definitely not; but transparent. I saw your heart before I saw you. I had been staring at the same white walls I built around myself since he left and then you came, knocked them down, and showed me what it looks like to be open, exposed... free.
I think I was see-through too, but when you looked at me you just saw the spine that was barely holding me up instead of breath and being. I was running out of life, and you didn't think twice about breathing yours into me.
Please, whatever you do, don''t run out of air.
Feb 19, 2021
Feb 19, 2021 at 9:59 PM UTC
All the signs pointed to you
for some reason
The universe seemed to always push us together
bring about bits of hope that remind me
you're not like the others
It all seemed right.
But I sit here with a half empty coffee cup and you're nowhere to be found.
I sit here and write about how brave Emily Dickinson was for not letting men define her while I think
What can I do to make you want me.
I do everything I can, but you want until I'm at the end of my rope to respond,
and so I climb right back up the rope until I can't see the coffee or things I'm pretending to do while I think of the ways I cant trust anyone anymore.
I climb and climb and climb
at the top
I see you and I focus
I ignore it when you start to push me back down, and only notice when I feel the rope burn on my hands.
Sep 23, 2020
Sep 23, 2020 at 12:33 PM UTC
I wish I could write about the things that don't hurt. like how the sky fights against the dark shoreline of trees. or how the sun makes everything glow golden in the mornings. and how the horses tails sway effortlessly back and forth as they graze the ground below them. But I can't do that, I don't know how. Or maybe I could write about the red windmill in the backyard that creaks and turns as the wind pushes through it. I hear the wind chimes and I'm reminded of my grandfather, reminded of his life and how his voice always boomed through the earth, the wind chimes doing the same now. I wish I could write about how I feel when I look at him. Ive been broken for a while now and gave up on that feeling, but he brings a different light than what I've seen before, kind of like the golden sun in the morning. I want to write about the warmth of the sun burning my back and I spread across the sheets waking up in the morning. The feeling of the tears running down my face when the boy gets the girl. the happy ending. I want to write about moms wildflowers that she planted in the garden, and how they shot from the ground and created a display of pattern and active color. At night, I open the door and see the night sky polluted with the burning stars, freckled with the white dots that remind me how small I am, how small my problems are.
I want to write about that.
I focus on the things that hurt because that's what you told me to do. Never expect the best, conceal those emotions, they're bad for you anyway. I want to write of the things that make me happy but you stole that from me a long time ago.
But as I look past what I've written now, I see the truth. Only in me, not in you.
Sep 17, 2020
Sep 17, 2020 at 9:17 AM UTC