i'm sorry love
but I can't get up
to play with you today.
I used to have
all this life in me
but it's up and gone away.
come sit on my bedside,
i'll tell you of the times
we used to have,
yes, I miss the days like that,
but the memories still make me glad.
I wish I had known then
that I was running out of time.
when we ran free never fearing that
soon it would no longer
all be just fine.
but there's nothing that you can do
so, please, there's no need to cry.
I can't play with you today, my love,
but tomorrow I will try.
Nov 16, 2017
Nov 16, 2017 at 7:14 PM UTC
crying on my
bathroom floor:
God
is
Not
Here.
crying in the
parking lot:
God
is
Not
Here.
swelling in my
spleen and liver:
God
is
Not
Here.
8 more weeks
spent in bed:
God
is
Still
Not
Here.
it seems like He is
picking on me,
saying,
"ha ha! look at you!
i'm going to give you
the grandest of dreams but
you'll be gone by 32."
i have no doubts
when they say that in heaven
the weather is always
fair,
but
one day I will
go to meet him.
he will not be there.
Oct 26, 2017
Oct 26, 2017 at 9:12 PM UTC
Being alone is nice sometimes,
but it can be very lonely too.
Seeing all the fun that they can have
doing things you can no longer do.
It feels like God is picking on me,
saying "Haha look at you!
I'm going to give you the grandest dreams
but you'll be gone by 32."
I try to talk to the people around
although it seems that they don't understand.
I can't really do all the things I would like,
but i'm trying the best that I can.
I used to find pleasure in the simple things,
like a beer and a bask in the sun.
The era of joy and stars in my eyes
it seems is finally done.
So please reserve your judgements until you
can feel what I feel inside.
Don't tell me how to spend my time
when it's a pain to be alive.
I've been trying to find a way to live
while also struggling to survive.
So **** off until you've died and come back to life
before you could even drive.
And when I decide it's my time to go,
you can bet I won't be sober.
I bought the ticket, I took the ride,
but now Football Season Is Over.
Aug 7, 2017
Aug 7, 2017 at 4:20 AM UTC
how are you supposed to feel
when they tell you,
hey kid,
i’m sorry,
we found the beginnings to that thing
that almost killed your grandmother
and took the life out of your aunt
and is currently killing your uncle
and will probably **** you.
but she smoked her whole life,
I said.
and so did she.
and so did he.
then I remembered that first
time I picked up a cigarette when
I was just 14.
under the bridge,
with some paints,
and a light in my eyes that I
never knew could go away.
“genetic predisposition” says he,
wise man in a white coat.
but he doesn’t understand how
this is just
another hill on a very
windy road.
the one that
put me in the hospital
during my senior year spring break
and is the reason I have to explain
to a boy what Illness is
before he
takes off my shirt.
i’m in the bed under those
blinding florescent lights,
i’m scared and crying.
and very, very alone.
this is not the first time,
and not the last time,
that i
will be here.
It will happen again
and again
and a young, blonde nurse
with big glasses and a brilliant smile
will look at me with
pitty in her eyes
and tell me everything will
be alright.
but it won’t
and that’s okay.
give me a light,
will ya?
Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 3:00 PM UTC
Something bigger than I am,
those shoulders over mine
and faster than I can be,
cannibalizing time,
it's not sad,
I'm not sad...
Someway it's worth one's while
seizing bubbles from reverie
and in between no crime,
starving now and then
I'm not dying,
it's not dying
What comes by nature grows,
poignant embrace to abide by.
To sharpen up a stem to a lilac rose
leaves bewildered but crucially alive
it's just my thought...
I'm just in a thought
But first I am
real and here
on my own to venture onward.
Jul 31, 2016
Jul 31, 2016 at 12:13 AM UTC
writing with a
cigarette in hand
writing with a
stain on my shirt
writing with a
bruise on my lip
trying to pretend
that your words
never hurt
sleeping with out
you
dreaming of good
times
drinking glasses
of malt whiskey
walking through dark
alleys with you
on my mind
I cannot get
past you
no matter how
hard i try
now every hello
i’ve said since you
left
tastes of your
eyes in that
moment you said
goodbye
Jul 30, 2016
Jul 30, 2016 at 11:55 PM UTC
Can’t sleep
not even a wink
you could say I’m restless.
No air in my lungs
i’m left here gasping
you could say I’m breathless.
The water in my eyes
done dried up
no more time for tears.
After a while I was numb to it all
so I got no
hopes or fears.
My heart tore from my hollow chest
so I ain’t got none
left for giving.
The good part is that
you can’t die
if you were never really living.
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 2:26 AM UTC
tactile was ivory fingertips on ivory keys,
passion was ballads of heartbreak and mornful melodies,
melancholy was cargo hanging under my eyes,
wistfullness was empty laughs and heavy sighs.
dejected was weighted arms and tarnished mirrors,
lethargic was xanax breakfast and whiskey tears,
restless was never asleep before three,
a shadow was all you seemed to have left of me.
solitude was choosing to spend my time alone,
but lonliness is now no one picks up the phone.
heartbreak is the promises i always thought you'd keep,
i'm tired, so tired, it's time for me to sleep.
Dec 17, 2015
Dec 17, 2015 at 12:28 PM UTC
Oh, dearest land of Nod,
why must you tease me so?
Every night I see your gates,
but in to them I never go.
Oh, my dearest land of Nod,
they say your grass is green!
I've heard tales of your cerulean skies,
but they too, I have not seen.
Oh, the dearest land of Nod,
I yearn to eat your fruits.
My mates sashe through your fields of whey,
But I can never follow suit.
My heart aches for the terminal fate
that I should never bask in your light.
We could never be, you see,
for I am too in love with Night.
Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 2:20 AM UTC
I don’t want to be loud
anymore
I don’t want to be different
anymore
I don’t want people
to know my name
and look at me
when I cross the street
I don’t want to be
“the girl with the crazy hair”
or "the girl with that
tattoo on her skin"
I don’t want to be angry
I don’t want be argumentative
or always having to stand up for
something
I don’t want to be strong
or resilient
or righteous
or passionate
or intense
or spirited
or ostracized
anymore
It’s so tiring
and now I’m tired
too
I’m not so sure I want to be anything
anymore
Oct 20, 2015
Oct 20, 2015 at 11:55 PM UTC