My father used to tell me that I am too serious.
I've always wondered,
When he was there for it all,
what else am I supposed to be?
Dec 17, 2018
Dec 17, 2018 at 5:08 PM UTC
I think of dying a lot.
Almost every day it seems.
My mind is consumed by the thought that,
Possibly,
one day,
I will simply cease to exist.
My brain doesn't understand,
it cannot comprehend,
the brevity of these thoughts.
Not existing isn't an option, it goes against human instinct.
A part of me hopes there is life after death,
That with all the possible universes and timelines,
We can simply switch from this one to the next.
The anxious part of me,
the largest parts of me,
panic at the idea of having no air or sun or life.
Nothing, not even awareness of the absence of something.
As empty as I am, or have been,
I still fight.
I fight to stay alive and to experience all of the wonderful moments that exist in this life.
I want to travel to unknown Italian islands and see the way the sun sets in Thailand.
Why am I stuck in this bubble, this little corner of Earth, when there is so much more to explore?
I am afraid of dying, without ever having the opportunity to live.
Apr 2, 2018
Apr 2, 2018 at 11:26 PM UTC
Your presence is comforting,
but I can't help but feel guilty,
when my mind destroys a moment between us
to flashback to memories of him.
He's been gone for so long,
I don't even think of him.
Yet, the wrong stroke or too long without a breath,
and I am trembling, shaking, crying.
Stop. Stop. Stop.
And immediately you do.
You're nothing like the ones before,
so why do their ghosts remain?
My body is haunted by their ethereal touch.
Your light kisses remove the cobwebs from my soul;
your hands stroking my back as you murmur calming words removes their stolen claims to my body.
I look into your eyes when I finish crying, I tell you I'm sorry,
but there's no need.
You see me when nobody else can.
You stay when nobody else would.
You saved me from demons I did not know exist.
What else is there to say but thank you?
Jan 9, 2018
Jan 9, 2018 at 6:50 PM UTC
My heart aches
at the thought
of holding you
being nothing more
than holding you.
Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 2:37 PM UTC
How am I supposed to feel,
when the woman who has been strong for me my entire life,
has tears flowing down her cheeks?
How am I supposed to feel,
when my friends who live easy going lives,
tell me they know what I'm going through?
How am I supposed to feel,
when my mind is in denial,
even though the proof is in her slur?
How am I supposed to feel,
when I cannot allow myself to cry,
because I have to act the role of parent?
Tell me, how am I supposed to feel,
when my father tells me not to tell,
as if keeping it a secret will keep me sane?
How am I supposed to keep myself together,
when the world continues to fall apart,
and repair itself,
over and over and over again.
How am I supposed to feel when the one i love the most cannot love themselves?
Let me tell you,
I
am
falling
apart.
And this time, I don't want to get back up.
Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 8:01 PM UTC
I once told you
that you are the only one who has ever inspired poetry in me.
Which isn't quite true,
but true enough.
You are the only one who inspires poetry out of love
Not pain.
You didn't shatter me like the one before,
who inspired so much darkness it filled my pages for years.
Instead, your freckles were the stars the guided me into hope.
Your eyes became emeralds that illuminated my poems with color.
You became the one.
The one who makes my voice stronger, my heart lighter, my me me-er
I am silly and light and infinite in your arms.
Even when my poetry is wrought with word *****
the words are lyrical to my eyes and ears,
and if the poetry I write isn't meant to be for me,
then who is it meant for?
Jan 8, 2016
Jan 8, 2016 at 1:01 AM UTC
I am fearless,
until I look into your eyes.
Then I find myself melting back into you,
soft, sad, and sleepy.
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 3:11 AM UTC
After all this time, you make my heart soar.
I try to tell myself it means nothing,
but somehow,
it means everything.
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 3:10 AM UTC
All I want to do,
is hold you and tell you it will all work out for the best.
But it doesn't does it?
Instead of being in love,
we are here.
Staring at one another,
lost and drowning in too many wrong words.
Spit it out, spit them all out I say.
I'd rather too many wrong words,
than not enough right ones.
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 3:07 AM UTC
He was lying next to me, with his hand upon my cheek
I was locked inside my head, thoughts stuck on you.
It was never quite fair to him, I was never quite there with him
Sabotaged before he ever had a chance.
I play it back inside my head, remember everything you said.
The cruel words that made us come crashing down.
The flashing on my phone, how I felt so alone, crying thinking you were still the one.
Maybe I exaggerate, maybe I stretch the truth,
but I never thought there'd be an end to me and you.
I didn't scream or cry or beg, I locked myself away with painful memories..
And yet here we are, months away from the past.
Why can I still feel your lips on my shoulder, still hear your voice saying "baby, please come closer."
Replaying your apologies over the endless nights of broken sleep.
Why is it still always you?
It's really not fair to him, I still can't bare to be with him.
I hate myself for wishing you'd come back and he'd turn into you.
His brown eyes never stood a chance when all I see are your green seas.
I used to drown in you for miles, and now all I'm drowning in is myself.
Oh darling, I wish you'd come back because I'm still stuck on you.
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 2:49 AM UTC