I still remember the first time you rescued me.
You came in like a firefighter rescues a kitten out of a burning building
And I was hooked on you.
After a few turns down the road,
We stopped at a park, and laid on the damp grass.
The twilight was so mottled with stars,
You glowed brighter than the sun.
It wasn’t until the fourth time
You pulled my charred corpse out of the
Smoldering embers of my self-hatred
That you found the ladder of cuts racing up my arm,
Under my sleeve.
You found the zig-zag maze of slices running through my legs,
Across my belly
And along my ribs.
And you told me that you were the only person who would ever love me.
The fifth time that you saved me,
You took me to the park
And taught me what it really meant to love someone.
Your hand that held against my throat didn’t hurt too much,
And the force between my legs numbed my core.
I could have screamed
I could have said no
But you loved me.
After you married my best friend,
And the second man ***** me,
And my boyfriend cheated on me,
I met the man that made me doubt my definition of love.
*** is not love.
Every time he tries to dig you out of my insides,
You bury yourself deeper into my soul.
But he stops when I start to cry.
He holds my hand.
He touches me, my arms, my scars, and all.
And he sets fire to every self-doubt,
And now I’m the smoke signal of what it means to survive.
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 3:37 AM UTC
And I heard you say that it’s hard enough to love me as it is.
As if the holes in my ears
Are holes in my character.
As if the music vibrating my ear drums
Could strain the heart strings
Of your love for me.
As if the clutter in my floor
Is a sharp pain in your side.
The fact that I’m growing up
Is a tumor, pressing into your skull,
Metastasizing throughout your body.
As if I’m killing you.
Just the thought of me could send you into cardiac arrest, that no doctor could revive you from.
You are sleeping in a coma.
Psychiatrists have cut you open
and picked through your brain,
and you have yet to awaken.
Some days your eyes will flutter,
and for a brief second I can breathe.
Filling my lungs with the stale oxygen,
only to realize
it will never be the same.
Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 5:22 PM UTC
The gravitational acceleration on Earth is -9.8 m/s2.
But when you said you were leaving,
I fell faster than that.
Newton said:
As the distance between two objects gets smaller,
Their attraction becomes stronger.
But if you had never gotten so close,
We would not be
As far away
As we
Are
N
o
w
.
Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 5:20 PM UTC
Stones jut out of the pockmarked earth.
The deathly silence is only broken
when the bark of dogs sound off in the distance.
My aching muscles yearn to contract with movement,
But I must stand, smelling the warm morning air.
Relatives are lining up at the site of the recently deceased.
They bow their necks towards the fresh grave.
Their tears water the sprouting grass.
The cemetery is alive with the souls of the departed mingling with those that are soon to be.
Dec 7, 2013
Dec 7, 2013 at 2:23 PM UTC
The rosy sun peeks over the tree tops.
We hear the sounds of a baseball game,
with the howling coyotes as fans.
My eyes droop as the onset of sleep nears.
The bitter coffee runs down my throat.
Francis is seated across from me,
peeking over her glasses at her cards.
Her brows wrinkle while determining the best way to win.
It only takes moments until the entire Texas sky is stippled with stars.
Dec 7, 2013
Dec 7, 2013 at 2:22 PM UTC
The cool
The crisp air burns
My skin stinging
My eyes pouring
My lungs begging
The delicate twilight
Blankets the white snow.
Crippled blossoms
Dying willows
Rippling water underneath
Sheets of glass breaking
Open.
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 4:42 PM UTC