I have wandered among these sidewalks for lifetimes,
I have made a home out of busy sidewalks and small patches of dying grass
I meander with past friends in the middle of empty roads,
With no destination in mind.
I’ve lived amongst thousands of others,
We pass each other daily
Greeting each other with shy smiles and a brief nod
To part and never unite again
I have interacted with this city through the earth
I walk its roads until I can no longer feel my legs,
And I shall continue
Until I have mapped out every inch of my home
This city consists of my raw emotions;
I will always carry this city with me
No matter which new streets I may roam,
No matter which new sidewalks I may take solace in.
Dec 11, 2016
Dec 11, 2016 at 4:19 PM UTC
I was born amidst the city,
I am one with busy highways and graffiti carelessly scrawled across overpasses
I am alive at night,
Lights shine against bare skin;
I’m small against my backdrop
I’m one drop of water amongst a stream of people
I have lived in the country,
Where nobody could be found for miles
Where I was expected to rely on myself and grow into myself
I nurtured myself,
I killed myself,
I wavered and withered with the seasons
But I flourished
I will die by the sea,
Waves may crash against me,
But I will remain upright.
Salt water will heal my wounds
I shall return to nature
I will be washed away; yet eternal
Dec 1, 2016
Dec 1, 2016 at 12:32 PM UTC
There are humans that rise out of the ash
They are molded from the ground with care
Their limbs are spun with moss;
Their hair with silk.
There are humans that feel with fervor
Their souls consist of rain and beams of moonlight
Sentiment is their language; emotions are their words
They dance in patches of light
They celebrate under the twinkle of stars
Their desires are simple,
But they are not.
The deceased return to ashes;
Mourning is as common as elation
The breezes plague them,
The storms are disastrous
Whole villages swept away,
Ashes piled high
With lone survivors roaming the nearby forests
The humans have gold for blood,
And pearl for bones.
They are the undiscovered ones
Who return to the Earth as suddenly as they arrive
Oct 17, 2016
Oct 17, 2016 at 11:59 AM UTC
Wind rustles your curtains, the breeze tickles your cheek
Air swirls around your room as I enter, and all warmth you felt slowly trickles from your veins
Darling, we both know how this will go.
You’re seeing blue while I’m seeing nothing,
If we had mood rings yours would be aqua while mine would break, with the chemical solution dripping down my hands
The glacial wall between us stops us from speaking
And then comes the water.
The tsunami plummets into your house
As I can’t control any of my emotions
All you see is a distortion of what used to be;
The sensation of drowning is the only thing keeping us conscious
But I am a storm, and I am not done.
My scream rolls like thunder through the state,
Everyone knows.
Lightning flashes as I throw useless objects around:
My phone, your pencil, the last scrap of my sanity.
The fire commences quickly,
My anger and self-hatred are ready to combust
I blame her for this, but we both know it isn’t why
Smoke clouds our minds as you try extinguishing me
But I burn even brighter
Before my match reaches it end and flickers out.
And, to conclude, in comes the rain.
Rain floods my face, as I run from you, from your house, from myself
You must watch as the storms rise up to meet me, as I run into the fire
As I slam myself into the glacier
As the rain chokes me
As the wind pushes me towards my fate
I am a natural disaster.
Make sure you don’t get stuck in the eye of the storm.
May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 2:00 PM UTC
Since that day I have always asked myself what I could have done
‘Maybe I should have called’
Or better yet, ‘Maybe you didn’t want me to.’
Perhaps there’s a chance you didn’t know that you were dying
Perhaps you didn’t want to admit it to yourself
What if you were still here?
But I have to remind myself each day that you aren’t, and you aren’t coming back.
I still have your dog.
Does he remember you?
I hope he does.
I’ve shown him your photo countless of times, masking my tears behind a high-pitched interrogation of ‘Do you love Mommy? You remember her, right?’
Your photo is in our living room
I know, you hate that we put it up.
I tried saying that,
But why didn’t you tell us?
Maybe you didn’t know.
I love your dog.
But he’s not mine, he’s yours.
I pet him and play with him as if this was the only house he knew
But he knew yours
The small house on the water,
One of the few places I felt truly at peace
Until the day of your memorial service
When I shouldn’t have had to sprinkle your ashes over a fire,
Or into the ocean.
When I locked myself in your bathroom and sunk to my hands and knees
And could no longer smell the sweet notes of your perfume
When people told me that I was so strong
But maybe I wasn’t
Most definitely I wasn’t
My strength died the day that you did
And I highly doubt I’ll get it back
Until I see you again
Maybe you knew, but maybe I should have been more focused on you than myself
Maybe I should have called when my gut told me to
Because you died in your sleep that night
And I didn’t spare thirty minutes of my ******* life to tell you I loved you.
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 6:39 PM UTC
They call her the artist
Not because she’s in the art room day after day
But because her body is her canvas
And her blades are the deadly paintbrushes
Her easel is a mirror
Her mistakes hit the shower tiles
In a methodical and predictable drip
Her paintings are not clean
White tiles stained red,
Silver blade meets blue vein meets crimson pain
Her masterpieces are aggravated lines of flesh
Lines on her hips but the word *** on parted lips
Translucent tears on flushed cheeks,
The desire to be numb overpowering everything
Eyes fluttering closed as the water stings the wounds
Her cuts forming a maze to get lost in
She wanted her life to be like Starry Night
As compared to The Scream
‘An artist is an artist is an artist’
She murmurs
As the blade falls from her hands
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 11:21 AM UTC
We see each other
I reach to you; you to me
The glass between us is soundproof
But I can still see your beautiful lips scream,
And I know that I am the reason why.
These clothes are too cumbersome;
I am dragged to the ground by the weight on my shoulders
I can feel the metal digging into flesh
I want to break down this wall
I would rather be anywhere but here
Where everything is gray
Where my mind is clouded in both misery and sedatives
I want to be free again
I want us
I have become a prisoner
And you could not stop it from happening
Fate cannot be changed
You bring your hand up to meet mine
Until you realize you have to hold your own hand.
Feb 21, 2016
Feb 21, 2016 at 9:06 PM UTC