I sat in the Sun today.
The Light warmed my face
And the Wind brushed my cheek.
The Air was clean
And as children laughed,
I thought: This is what the healthy do.
I drank my tea,
Watched the ducks swim by;
I even tried to breathe deep.
But my chest was tight
And a knot sat in my throat.
In this beautiful painting, I sat
And thought: How lovely it’d be to die.
Jan 5, 2020
Jan 5, 2020 at 3:24 PM UTC
I-
Am a manic-pixie dream girl,
Living the life
Of the tortured male hero.
You-
Are the only leading man
Worthy of the role,
Stuck playing the part of Ophelia.
For once, I wish the stereotype were real.
For once, I want to not gender-bend the cast.
For once,
I do not want to be the main character of my story.
Sep 9, 2019
Sep 9, 2019 at 2:43 AM UTC
i want to peel off
all my skin
out of punishment
for knowing it was once
touched by you.
tear away
bit by bit its memories
out of jealousy
that you’re gone
and it remains.
i will then
hastily tape it back
piece by piece
the only remaining artifice
of your earthly exploration.
it will be ugly-
it is ugly.
without your touch-
it is useless.
Aug 28, 2019
Aug 28, 2019 at 11:21 PM UTC
When I picture your face,
I see dancing clouds
And ringlets of light.
Your hair is edible,
Your eyes are swimming pools,
Your lips are ruby ring pops with
Skin like cotton candy.
And I can't seem to shake the image.
Or the heart-stuttering effect,
It leaves me.
I built you up so much in my mind
That when I fall asleep,
I imagine your skin on mine.
The soft, cool,
Goose bump inducing touch;
The sinful, chocolate cake kind of touch.
I wake up in a cold sweat
Invigorated by the thought of you,
Intoxicated by your breath;
It's a cigarette while I wake,
Still in a fog filled land
Believing my dreams are memories.
The faces I see and bodies I meet
Are merely shadows of your face,
Reflections of a reflected memory.
Their lips are curdled milk;
I miss the sharp, hard, strawberry taste
You used to leave,
Lingering,
On my lips.
Their skin no longer melts
From my kiss,
It is hard plastic
disguised as a sugary cloud;
It is marble and you are clay.
Every touch is a salted paper cut,
Every fingertip pin-prick
Is a jilted memory.
I cannot fall into their eyes,
They are not wading pools
Filled with champagne;
They are shallow and *****
I don't get lost for days,
And weeks,
And months,
And years in them,
Just my balance is gone
From jumping too fast.
So fast,
My knees go through the ground
And up through my chin
Simultaneously.
Or worse I get caught
In a quicksand sludge
I thought was a path leading home
No branch long enough can pull me out.
I am stuck with this version of you,
The one where you walk
With a glowing outline--
Like you're a renaissance painting or something.
Where every song I hear,
Somehow,
Has your name in it
And sounds just how your laugh used to.
This image of you,
Where I see into the future
And I’m still there.
As if I’m not going mad,
But that’s the only explanation
To why I feel like a ghost
In purgatory
Reliving every kiss
And moment that never was.
Jan 13, 2018
Jan 13, 2018 at 12:58 AM UTC
I am a shadow of myself,
Walking through life
Ten steps behind everything
I do and see.
I am a reflection of my mind
That can never fully see
Everything that I am-
Though I live in it every moment.
I am a projection of everyone else
And every thing that I wish I was,
Knowing I am anything but.
Not knowing how to change.
I am a grey spot on my heart
Aching silently at every turn,
Miraculously pumping life
Through shrinking veins.
I am a glare in my eyes
Blinding my thoughts
And skewing reality-
Endlessly searching through a squint.
I am all the thoughts I think
Without ever being spoken,
Everything that I am lives in my brain
And all that I need dies in my mind.
May 11, 2017
May 11, 2017 at 12:27 AM UTC
Blue pleather bomber jacket,
You are smooth against my skin.
Your surface is cool and inviting
As it wraps around my torso-
Like a protective blanket
You are my security,
Blue pleather bomber jacket.
I pick at your skin and it falls apart.
The zipper, like your bottom teeth,
Are crooked and misaligned.
You shrug over my shoulders,
But leave my chest defenseless.
Blue pleather bomber jacket,
I bet you cost a fortune.
Almost as much as your nonprescription glasses,
Though you break just the same
Like the promises you keep making.
Blue pleather bomber jacket,
You never kept me warm
Just less affected by the
cutting winds of your back lash.
But when I fall asleep at night
I sleep beside the indent of your absence.
Blue pleather bomber jacket,
You are just now brand new,
Though your skin is already worn through
And your lining thinning by the second.
I trusted you,
Blue pleather bomber jacket,
To protect me from the cold.
Though you slump lazily
Over others' shoulders,
Not really caring I've been waiting
With my shoulders bare and frigid.
Blue pleather bomber jacket,
I thought you were one of kind.
But I see your manufactured gaze
Walking down the street,
Sitting across from me on the bus.
Go on, blue pleather bomber jacket,
Temporarily dangling over person after person.
Soon I will see you dangling
On the rotting hanger in a thrift shop,
Years from now looking preserved in your waning beauty.
Blue pleather bomber jacket,
Your trend is dying and your color fading.
I have been snagged by your imperfections for the last time.
May 4, 2017
May 4, 2017 at 11:24 AM UTC
The tide rushes in
And fills my lungs with water,
Slapping the air right out of my chest.
For a brief moment the storm breaks
Giving me just enough time
To breathe deep and push the air
Barely hard enough
To bring me back ashore.
I am enough to control the waves.
A storms breaks out,
Flooding all around and
I am without a life vest,
Enclosing around me from every angle
I barely see an exit.
Soon enough it creeps to my chin
And I am forced to hold my breath.
I am not enough to control the storms.
I shout it as though
The vibrocity of my words
Dictate it's strength.
Ringing through every orifice in my body,
Straining my lungs till I taste the blood
And only a croak is left inside.
I am enough to command the sky.
I shout atop a mountain
As if it were an empty field.
Filling the wind with my fruitless whim,
Charming the skies to not leave me.
All done in vain and with no restraint
I barely pierce the space I stand.
I am not enough to bellow the wind.
Apr 3, 2017
Apr 3, 2017 at 12:05 AM UTC
I remember snowy mornings
As a kid before school.
You left before me to catch the bus,
And I remember staring
At your footprints in the melting walkway.
I used to step in the same spots,
Mimicking the trek you just made;
Even though my legs were shorter
And I stretched them what seemed like a mile.
I remember how close
That made me feel to you.
I remember this one time,
This one snippet of a moment,
When we were in our old basement
And you were standing on that old couch,
Your legs bent in a wide second position.
You were laughing, your face framed in silver wire.
Your hair was more red then, and your face more freckled.
You were lanky and tall;
To me you were a giant.
I don't remember what day it was
Or what we were doing,
But I remember you wore a grey shirt
And smiled wide like an idiot,
Standing on that old, second hand couch-
For whatever reason that's now lost in time.
I think until the day I die,
I will always see that image of you
When your name crosses my mind.
I remember this one time,
It was sometime in the Summer
When I boasted to all the kids in the park about you.
Bragging on and on; endlessly
About how my brother was going to be an army man,
And that if I jumped off the edge of the jungle gym
You would be there to catch me.
You stood there the entire time while I ran my mouth,
Trying to pluck up the courage to jump.
After what must have seemed like ages,
I leapt and you caught me.
I don't even know why
But I remember that so clearly.
I remember the day you came home.
That entire year seemed like a blur,
But the day you came home
Was like a kaleidoscope of color and taste
Returning to my previously dulled senses.
The day you left was grey and blurry-
If I think about it long enough
I can feel the same strangling lump in my throat.
When you came back,
My heart was pounding out of my chest
I thought it was going to leave a bruise.
My eyes darting in every direction,
My breathing quick and shallow
It felt like a dream I was afraid to wake up from.
I remember finally spotting you walking off the bus,
And then all of a sudden catapulting myself onto you.
Your uniform scratched me
It left a long scratch for weeks, but I didn't care.
I could finally breath and smile
Without holding back a pained expression
Every time someone asked me how I was-
I must have been holding my breath for months.
If you as a child is how I will see you forever,
Then hugging you in that moment
Will be how I remember feeling pure joy,
For the rest of my life.
I remember so many things
About how it all used to be.
How you let me sleep in your bed
When I was having a bad dream.
How Mom would send us to our rooms,
But we'd only put our toes inside
And stretch out in the hallway,
Just to talk to each other.
How you would wake me up
On Saturday mornings to watch cartoons
On that big yellow and brown blanket you loved.
Those are my favorite memories of you,
They're simple- and admittedly mundane-
That's why I love them so.
When I think of how things are now
I see those moments in my heart.
And for a bittersweet moment,
I remember we used to share so much more than DNA.
Mar 30, 2017
Mar 30, 2017 at 1:12 AM UTC
I am convinced to my very core
That my thoughts control the weather.
My heart reflects the skies
And my eyes, the storming seas.
I wish there was more sun
In my soul that I could give to you,
Instead of Summer days with overcast skies.
More cherry blossoms
and autumn harvest.
Endless sunlight and gentle rains.
Rather my heart brings floods
And whipping winds that cut your flesh.
I could end droughts and nourish the ground
With the storms in my mind.
I could eradicate germs and disease
With my icy, bitter touch.
Instead I seep into your home and slosh in the grass,
I frost the sidewalks at night,
freezing over your morning commute.
I cannot control the raging weather of my mind,
Or the biting sting of my frozen tongue.
While I send out thunder and lightning
Acid rain drains my brain
And hail storms attack my skull.
I long for Spring and live in Fall,
I search for light and walk in haze.
Craving the days I don't have to see
The air take form from my short exhale.
The days where the sun escapes
Past a lonely cloud on a random Winter day,
And the grass peaks out from the melting snow beneath.
Instead I cry with the rain and rage with the storms.
I breathe with the wind as if we are one,
Neither one knowing who's in control.
Mar 13, 2017
Mar 13, 2017 at 1:16 AM UTC
I used to love to laugh-
And hear the birds sing in the wind.
I used to love a lot of things,
Before you came around.
Myself being one,
I soon began to crack at the surface
And couldn't stop chipping away at every thought.
You didn't know me at all,
Yet I let you think you did and blindly loved on
Until I forgot what that meant.
---
You stopped coming around,
But I kept loving on.
Trying to understand every turn I made
Deciphering hidden messages,
I kept on loving.
And soon that love dried away,
Leaving me sleepless questions
Seemingly unanswerable in my insomnia.
I let you take all my color-
Vibrancy to me was grey painted dark.
I used to feel music thump in my gut,
Till soon it was only beating hollow in my chest.
I could hardly breathe
When I realized what you took from me.
I felt gutted and discarded
Because you did it with no thought;
No remorse or even intention.
It was simply your being and you ****** mine right out,
Like a parasite.
---
Manually I put back the contents I had no business returning;
Things that should have never left
I searched for in emptiness.
Finding it was like being treated for a deadly disease
You mysteriously pick-up in a foreign country.
Only it was your venom-
Slowly draining from my body.
My chest cracked as if it were embalmed,
And I found my painful cure.
---
You don't come around any more,
And I'm glad.
Because I can keep on loving
Without peering over my shoulder in fear.
I kept on loving
And the colors came back in faces you only wish would glance your way.
I loved again
So your darting stare could never again pierce me the way it did,
Leaving only slight, discolored wounds
That don't even sting anymore.
I used to love to feel-
The way my fingertips tingled from joy.
So I learned to love you, just to prove
I still felt all the way down to my fingertips.
Feb 6, 2017
Feb 6, 2017 at 1:11 AM UTC