Where are the veins that
stick out of your neck this time
Furling whirling twirling around the room
It doesn't make you any less terrifying
Where are the soft sacred thoughts that float on the ceiling
I've never lost so much think
Bright red dots falling
into blue blue blue water
Before you lose my mind
Hand it to me
I've never been so lonely
And I'm not even locked away yet
I just see pills in my eye sockets
I could scratch at my lashes for days
There's no water here
Just acid at the back of my throat
All i am is lust and love and longing
Screaming screaming screaming
For
Mercy
Love
Touch
Air
Air
Air
May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 1:04 PM UTC
You will never see this but I want it that way because I am in love with you in a way only I can fall in love; a fleeting glimpse of a stranger's face and a gasp of breath before receding into myself, withdrawing, making myself small enough that someone always notices me. I'm a master of manipulation and I know how to get people to notice me. The people I love are always people who like to protect, people who talk easily and readily and are drawn to their opposites, so I knew I should make myself small to get you to look. And then we talked and played monopoly and you told me you were in advertising and i pretended to be older and we talked and i fell in love with your laugh and your careful nature and how good your face looked, you looked like a good person. Someone i could trust. But now you're leaving and I want to say goodbye but I don't know if that's appropriate. All I can think is that I was washing the dishes and you leaned over me to put a glass away and I held my breath. I felt nothing and only saw a strip of black sweater. But I fell in love and twisted up and you asked me if I was okay. And I turned around with shy eyes and smiled and said "yeah, are you?"
Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 6:33 AM UTC
It is still too raw
waking up every morning and expecting to see you
not making noise because you were the only person still sleeping in on a school morning
it is still raw and bursting
like some awful infected wound
when you were dying i kept praying it wasn't cancer
now i wish it were because i would have had more time with you
it is still raw and flaming
not being able to watch series because you're missing out
how do i tell you i miss you
when you arent a contact on my phone anymore
how do i do this?
Pops, I went to you for everything I couldnt fix myself
how, tell me how?
Yesterday, we played a home video and I heard your laugh
That dying-seal laugh you could hear a mile away
I thought you were there with me
You were there with me
I'm not ready for this
My heart is broken
and raw, still too raw
Nov 15, 2014
Nov 15, 2014 at 7:10 PM UTC
What was the point of this
Now you're just spine in ground
Vertebrae caked with soil
Rotting dark meat
Holes in skin
What was the point of wearing that seatbelt
Watching your posture
Getting those glasses that made you self-conscious
Because of the future
What about the future
There was no future
Now you're just skull under mound
of topsoil, soul left, mouth open filled with ants
This is like a horror movie
Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 9:51 AM UTC
Pull glass out of fresh wound
Blood dripping
Glistening
Like water off a drowned girls hair
Skin bloated
Shining
Like a whipped donkey
Hit with tight rope made of hide like his
Which, raw pink flesh, is not the same
Like lump of meat
On plate, steak you can't eat cooked and
Dead
Like your father
Buried in a small plot
Decaying like rotten fruit
Memories
Raking through your brain
Pain from the good
Like too-sweet pomegranate juice that makes you want to *****
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 11:02 AM UTC
Dear pops
1) You died and will never get to see your grandchildren. I always used to tell you if you didn't eat better you wouldn't get to see them. I was right
2) I told you if you didn't eat better you would get diabetes. In the end they cut out your pancreas and I became right
3) I always thought hospitals were cool. Thanks to you I can't bear thinking of one
4) Why did you never say you were proud of me?
5)Why did you never say you were proud of me?
6) Why did you never say you were proud of me?
7) Never. Not once
8) Were you proud of me?
9) Why was it always about my looks?
10) Why was I always annoying to you? *edit - why did you always find me annoying?
11) Did I matter?
12) Did you think I was smart?
13) Did you think I would become something?
14) Did you think I was a stupid girl who would outgrow her rebelliousness
15) It's been 17 years and I haven't
16) Did you think I was smart?
17) You never thought anything I did mattered
18) You always mocked me, made fun of me, never listened to what I had to say
19) You thought I was rude when I wasn't
20) You labelled me all the time
21) There's a small part of me that's glad you died because now I can love a girl more easily. Now I can love a boy of a different race more easily. Now I can speak to my mother more easily
22) Did you love me? It didn't seem so
23) I always thought my life would change if I lost someone I loved. It didn't ,not much
24) I'm always looking for older men to tell me I'm intelligent. Your best friend. My uncle. My teacher.
25) Guess why
26) I'm damaged. I was damaged before you died and a large part of why is you
27) The boys and I always said you reminded us of Homer Simpson because of your gut and baldness and mild foolishness. In the end you were so ravaged by jaundice you were as yellow as him. I will never watch The Simpsons again
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 2:04 PM UTC
Maybe I am disaster
Loss seems to fill me up and
doesn't it, to everyone though?
Aren't we all just floating?
Everyone tells me that I don’t need another person because I am complete
I fill myself
So why the **** do I feel so empty?
Why am I lonely?
Maybe I am disaster
But am I that beautiful kind of disaster
That wanted kind of disaster
How do I open the skies
And hug the ones I've lost?
Maybe regret is the worst kind of poison
Maybe it kills
How do I live the way I want to without other people?
I have spent 17 years not hugging other people
And I think I know why
I am so frightened of intimacy
So scared
Why would any reasonable person give others bits of their souls?
Can you trust?
Can you trust?
What is trust?
How do I grow?
How do I empty my cocoon?
I know who I am because I say what I am
But how do I convince others
I am wanted?
Am I wanted?
I don’t know any more
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 4:16 PM UTC
Sometimes we don't know if we're going to be okay
and even that is okay
One day at a time while the grief subsides
if it ever does
Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 4:26 PM UTC
Maybe there is love here for me
Maybe there is love
Not in the way I want to be loved
But the past 2 months have taught me a lot.
That maybe I shouldn't expect too much
Maybe I don't need to have perfection
Books as gifts and always being there
Maybe just the occasional laugh and being comfortable is enough
Maybe I'm not settling for second best
Maybe I'm being okay with being okay.
Maybe my mother and father had a love story
The kind of one you read about in novels
Maybe they were more than soulmates
I don't know why I'm using the past tense
Maybe my dad always tucking my mother in at night was enough
Maybe he didn't have to buy her flowers
Maybe him just talking to her was enough
Maybe she loving him was more than he ever wanted
Maybe bare-bones love doesn't always mean lacking
Maybe I needed to learn this
Maybe we're all enough for each other
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 6:33 PM UTC
People always say there are some things too terrible to build beauty out of
I am lying down on a couch in the prayer room of a hospital
Facing the huge cross I don't pray to staple-gunned onto the wall
Waiting, while my battery dies, to hear if my father will live or not
I'm not trying to make this sound poetic or romantic or even bearable
Let's just agree I've never felt so lost in my life, not even when I had no friends and I fought daily with my mother
If my father dies, so does she, and I never pictured myself as the protagonist of an Orphans Plight story
Certainly not with two younger brothers to care for
I feel guilty, because I've imagined him dying sometimes, I always imagine it as a relief but I feel nothing now, not even numbness
I wonder if God is punishing me for those thoughts and wishes
I'm trying to out-pray those thoughts, counting the blessings on the lines of my fingers
Hoping to heaven someone up there will take pity on me and save his life
This evening I told my aunt I wouldn't care if he came back whole or not, I just want his dying-seal laugh back on the dinner-table
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 5:01 PM UTC