I have always wished for someone to treat me delicately / and it has taken me far too long to come to realize that maybe the best place to start would be with myself.
Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 1:25 PM UTC
I have come to realize that there is not a single place on earth that I feel I belong. / I wander from person, to place, to thing, without ever feeling connected. / feeling homeless. / perpetually wandering / it is as if I'm always trying to get back to this familiar safe place I believe I "should" have / but every time I go to ask for directions, I can't get the words out and I realize I've lost my voice.
May 17, 2017
May 17, 2017 at 10:24 PM UTC
I walk around feeling like a bullet wound. / like I am shot full of holes and always bleeding out. This is the type of pain that you can never find reprieve from. / I put my love and trust in a number of emotional assasins. / Well disguised as friends and lovers. / Then, in one fell swoop a wrecking ball was taken to the entirety of my life. / I quietly collected the salvagible pieces and receeded off into the shadows. / I have been clutching the shattered fragments close to my chest ever since. / sometimes it draws blood. / sometimes it makes it hard to breathe.
May 13, 2017
May 13, 2017 at 9:05 AM UTC
I don't think I have a broken heart / I think I am a broken heart
Apr 22, 2017
Apr 22, 2017 at 7:19 PM UTC
the people that seem the most impossible to love are ironically, those most desperately in need of it / in its most unconditional of forms.
Apr 22, 2017
Apr 22, 2017 at 7:16 PM UTC
I sometimes feel like there are anchors tied to my ankles,
Made up of every moment I wish I could forget,
And just when I am sure I'll be able to tread water long enough to make it safely back to shore,
I am pulled further out to sea,
Betrayed by the weight of my own experience.
Jan 9, 2017
Jan 9, 2017 at 12:35 PM UTC
ground zero
i become aware of boundaries
i am a dog chasing cars
i sing your voicemail to sleep
there are no surgeon general warnings
to tell me that
*the objects in the mirror
are more depressed than they appear*
so how do i tell you
that there are parts of my life
that move slower
without you in them?
or that i look for you every day
in emails & unanswered calls
in the sunrises
i didn't choose to be awake to watch
that i sometimes still stare at doorways hoping you would walk through them
stage 1 you tell your new lover you've got a splinter and they pull the sound of your body falling asleep on mine out of your fingertip
stage 2 your new lover says something at dinner that makes you choke so they call 911 & the paramedics do the hymleich not knowing you would ***** our promises all over the the restaurant
stage 3 your new lover surprises you by cleaning the house & washes the shirt you kept next to the bed, not knowing it was the last thing you had that smelled like me
after
people always ask
what was loving her like?
after a really long silence
i just say
"it must be nice"
but i never say
it's watching paint dry
i never say
it's a window seat in hell
i don't tell anyone
about the dreams
where i am reading you
bedtime stories
each one is a different way you die
& every time i can never save you
dreams where what i think
are angels in my bedroom
are just homeless versions
of myself you never loved
i have dreams
where i pay someone to shoot me
just to see if you would cry
just to see
if you would cradle my body
i don't tell people
that loving you is like
playing piano
for someone who can't hear
that it's hitting repeat
on my favorite song
& forgetting the words
every time it starts over
that it's finding out
there's no milk after you already
poured yourself a bowl of cereal
it's getting locked in the dark
& being told to
look on the bright side
that loving you is like
being reminded of what it felt like
the first time
you accidentally let go
of a balloon as a child
it's drowning without the water
it's the feeling you get
when you start to dance
& the song ends
Jan 8, 2017
Jan 8, 2017 at 2:16 PM UTC
you keep waking up covered in fragmented memories and your own spilled secrets.
it makes getting out of bed feel like waging a war.
Jan 8, 2017
Jan 8, 2017 at 1:28 PM UTC
and here i am again
at the intersection
of pedestrian language
& old wives tales
swallowing gum
like 7 year memories
opening umbrellas inside
cause i can't seem get away
from all of this rain
i ********** with my left hand
cause i was told
back in highschool that
"it feels like someone else is doing it"
it gets me wondering
about the difference between
losing you and finding out
that some one else found you
or my sleep
or lack thereof
its starting to tear me apart
i keep having this dream
where you are in
an unfamiliar body of water
trying to wash my poetry
off of your hands
or the one where
something happens in my chest
every time you sit
on someone else's bed
i'm tired of feeling like something you've misplaced
but don't have the heart
to look for anymore
tired of you saying my name
like you're trying to bury it
i'm tired of wondering
if you can tell the difference
between the absence
of my voice & silence
the other day
i almost started sobbing
at work when a woman
asked me about
our equipment
i was explaining how
things come apart
and almost mentioned your name
it made me think
of how you used to say
things like "what would you do
if i showed up on your doorstep
one day?" now, i haunt
the windows in my house
i don't leave for weeks at a time
i sit on the porch like the dog
you didn't shoot behind the shed
the one that refuses to die
until you come home again
i told somebody once, that
you didn't even know
what my voicemail sounded like
i wonder if they thought
it was because you
are so important that i never
let it ring that many times
before picking up
or if you dont know
what it sounds like
because you've never called
you can't be the ****** weapon
and the search party
i'm tired of all the seats
to the ferris wheel in my chest
being empty
tired of your voice
being the one i look for
in abandoned places
that one sound i beg
to bounce back
down vacant hallways
i just seem to stand there
in all of that quiet
like someone looking for a mistake
on an eviction notice
so i guess the hardest part
isn't letting go
it's forgetting
you ever had a grip
in the first place
and since you've been gone
i wonder if when
you pushed yourself away from me
you used your left hand
so it felt like someone else did it
Oct 6, 2016
Oct 6, 2016 at 6:54 PM UTC
some feelings can encase you in molasses
hardly able to move
unable to get a true understanding of what you feel
and why
you seem sunk in quicksand, below the surface
destined to forever be caught in some inexplicable cosmic trap
where the freedom of your heart is a forlorn dream.
But take comfort, there is a way out,
and it arrives at a time you least expect
its the deep healing that comes from knowing yourself
a light shining into the depths.
Oct 6, 2016
Oct 6, 2016 at 6:46 PM UTC