September 10th is National Suicide Awareness Day.
Every year, every day that we spread further from the other in time is like the continental plates leaving each other’s coast lines after Pangaea found out it would no longer exist.
On this day, every year, I find myself thinking of you.
You were the first suicidal case for me,
the one where a midnight call to the mental hospital would become something routine.
You constructed a noose so perfect that it matched the image upon Google,
What kind of sick creature puts instructions for nooses on Google these days?
Last time I checked, hanging others was a crime.
Hanging yourself is a bigger one,
because the death penalty ALWAYS applies to you when you **** yourself.
This year, you’re throwing a party. I’m delighted to know as my stomach churns its illness away that you are consuming liquids that will give you the same bitter feeling tomorrow morning.
I’m lucky to know that you survived.
That she and he and her and him and they lived.
That the noose didn't work,
that the blade wasn't sharp enough,
that the hands around the neck gave up,
and that the window was locked.
The broken souls up in Heaven will forever watch our lives,
as we so desperately attempted to save theirs.
Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 9:44 PM UTC
They left behind little tokens of love,
fragments of memories with pieces of their souls.
There lays his pacifier, that would close his mouth for afternoon naps.
The laptop charger that allowed YouTube videos to be played when daytime T.V. was too plain for his expontental mind.
The room that they slept in; still coaxed in their fragrance the bed still wet from his drooling mouth and the tears that were shed as I said goodbye.
I promised I was not going to cry,
but when he held out his arms from the car seat with no awareness of where he was going,
I needed to let him know through my face that I was upset that he was leaving,
that the drooling, smiling from lobe to lobe, Micheal Jackson dancing five and half month nephew was not aware that he was breaking his aunt's heart.
The pacifier still sits on the counter, I'll leave it there for a few days.
It's pleasant to have a fragment of his soul for good luck before I leave for college.
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 5:06 PM UTC
I guess I hate summer days,
where families gather around a grill and laugh over clinging bottles of beer.
I hate the way the empty seat looks next to me,
mocking at my soul, laughing, taunting me, reminding me that I hurt you.
Not even a cup of coffee or a splash of sugar can fix the wounds I gave to you.
This is my apology, my first spoken recognition that I not only miss you,
but your heart was too big for me to hold,
you wanted to hold me so tight every sleepless night
and I needed you to let me go.
I hated the cage you created with your arms every night,
you convinced me that the constant texts and calls were love.
That the Skype talks we had every night an ocean away from each other weren’t taking time from my family,
but that I was devoting my time to you.
I was being true to the salvation of my boredom.
I brought the cage of your arms with me to college,
as I put my ring on the finger that shows engagement so boys would step away,
I created a force field for you so that you could sleep easier at night,
even though I was only ninety miles away.
I ******* hate these summer days,
I became so accustom to your flesh cage that without the rails in front of my face,
I forgot what happiness was supposed to be like without your rails.
Home is not this place anymore,
your presence infected the streets and I no longer see love and happiness,
just broken memories with your smile plastered on every street corner.
Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 9:39 PM UTC
kissing you was like swerving into oncoming traffic
i can never tell if i am more haunted by empty picture frames or the ashes of their contents
you taught me that the saying "pick your battles" meant not answering when love was at the door
sometimes when i drink whiskey i swear i can hear your voice in the creases of my bedsheets & i sleep on the floor
i still catch myself running my hands over things you touched the most, looking for the echoes of your fingertips
i practice things i'll never say to you
i remember the day you told me you didn't like poetry, how "everything's already been said" & how "nothing meaningful can be captured without being cliche" you know, i don't miss you like the sun and moon, i do not miss you like tide bent waves crashing on the shoreline, i miss you like a chernobyl swingset misses children
rumor has it that drowning is a lot like coming home, that drinking bleach can **** the butterflies in your stomach
for your love of cigarettes, i would have been an ashtray
this halloween i want to dress up as the you when you loved yourself and show up on your doorstep
i never understood what you meant when you said i was an instrument, back when you would cup your hands around my chest and breathe through the holes in my heart, i still wonder if the sounds i made remind you of wind chimes
i never paid much attention to abandoned buildings until i became one
in my dreams all the flowers smell like your perfume
i am the only person who has ever wished for the same snowflake to fall twice
if i could go back, and rewrite the definition of audacity, it would be how when we lost the bet of love, you said "we never shook on it"
i love you, if the feeling is not mutual, please pretend this was a poem
the only apology i want from you, is to have you repeat the names of children we will never have in your parents living room until they *****
we are the same person if you find yourself up at 4am dry heaving promises, or if you are kept awake by the laughter of those who've abandoned you
nobody ever told you that goodbyes taste like the back of stamps
sometimes i'm convinced that the only reason we hug, is so you can check my back for exit wounds
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 12:03 PM UTC
I swear, I'm allergic to
emotion.
Thumper from Bambi challenged me to a contest,
to see whose thump was the greatest, loudest, most passionate.
My heart won.
The hills that form on my legs whenever your fingers grace upon it's surface.
Let's call them...
...lady skin ******
I wanted to plunge in the river just to **** you off,
just for you to look at me and scold me for being stupid.
...you're cute when you're mad.
You hop along side bunnies on the grassy pieces of our home,
I hope to hop along side you shaking my bunny tail.
I hope that one day,
you get to meet a tiger and play with it's tail.
Have it curdle your face and watch your lips curls at their edges
Let's go on an adventure to the edge of the world..
....you did say we'd go on a trip together.
I've only written of tales of heartbreak
Never tales of what happens before
You need to stop making my lips curl at their edges.
Don't you know I'm severely, highly allergic
to emotion?
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 3:01 AM UTC
I wonder if you’d want to know
I named all of my demons after you and
they haunt me in my sleep
when I was 14 I fell asleep in April and dreamed of bones and
I’m not sure I’ve really ever woken up since
when I lost 5 pounds I never saw a difference
when I lost 10 my mother said I was looking good
when I lost 20 she told me to stop and handed me food
and I became anemic
when I lost 25 I stopped drinking anything because
I felt water had calories
when I lost 30 my mother held me on her lap
and held my bones together for me
when I lost 35 I started fainting every morning and
the doctors could no longer easily find my blood pressure
when I lost 40 people started to stare and food made me cry
when I lost 45 it hurt to walk and to lay down
it hurt to eat
it hurt to breathe and
I started throwing up my empty stomach
the mind plays tricks on those that decide
nourishment is not needed
Eat.
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 1:39 PM UTC
A joke…for example: MY MAJOR
I stopped taking my meds!
...too soon? Too serious?
I’m happy again, see my smile
That I miss you,
That I hate what you did to me,
that together…we were inseparable, when we were high.
That the potent smell of **** stings my nostrils, it remembers that this is what loved smelled like..
…I’m in a sorority…yeah I’m now Greek
I DON’T EAT MEAT ON CAMPUS ANYMORE!
...woot?
I’m sorry that those ten months were a waste…for both of us.
…honestly, I hate myself most days.
I wish I felt worth it again.
Your shirts the one you’re wearing, that’s the one I got you
... but you’re here,
in that chair.
Not even looking at me.
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 1:49 AM UTC
he asked me
if i missed you
still
and i couldn't
get the words to form
on my lips
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 5:18 PM UTC
Thank you for the large sushi platters
cheap, but would fill our bellies to their brims.
Thank you for the red lights,
that would grant us a moment to make out in public.
Thank you for the skyline,
that you gave to me in the rain and the sweet summer sunshine.
Thank you for the grains of sand on that one beach,
the cold water only made me hold you tighter.
Thank you for the road trip to Ohio,
you know I missed her too much to breathe.
Thank you for giving me spontaneity,
it is amazing how capable I am to achieve this trait.
Thank you for the long drives,
where I would cry and your voice would match the pitch of sweet Marley,
you would remind me that I was loved, that I was worth getting up in the morning for.
Thank you for the swim in the lake at the Botanic Gardens,
you let me come up for air first.
Thank you for the random calls,
your pungent voice reduced the swelling of home sickness.
Thank you for the large sushi platters,
cheap, but they filled our mouths with stale rice and rotting fish.
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 11:24 PM UTC
The idea of kissing someone else in the summer time
burned my lips.
They felt scolded as they touched someone else
under the heat waves of mid June.
They became parched as they braced themselves
against someone else's bare, sweated, sand covered chest.
Scolded lips--scolded.
Forever burned.
Mar 12, 2014
Mar 12, 2014 at 12:56 AM UTC