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sarah-riordan
sarah-riordan
American My poems come from my experiences with love, my mom's cancer, and my dad's recent suicide. They aren't meant to be amazing, they're just supposed to convey emotions
You cover your ears with your small, yet strong, hands, But still hear her heartbreaking cries You seal your eyes shut to block out the black shadows, But still in the darkness you lie You stuff up your nose so you can’t smell the blood, But just downstairs the copper smell lingers You cover up skin; form a shield for yourself, But can still sense the fear in your fingers You hold it all in, can survive being numb, Never give in our let out a scream Life begins to seem normal, teach yourself to forget, Until you re-enter your dreams
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Mar 28, 2012
Mar 28, 2012 at 4:55 PM UTC
There Is No Escape
Rumors grow like tumors Lies get spread so easily While they're caught up in the humor, She cries tears that they don't see Critically people assume, her Image shattered for their glee Never knowing they would doom her; Life reduced to tragedy
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Feb 27, 2012
Feb 27, 2012 at 9:59 AM UTC
Wicked Little Girls
Where the grapes you eat are red and green But the ones you draw are purple Where you love your parents with all of your heart But pretend you’re an orphan when you play with friends Where the monsters that lurk in closets and under beds Can be destroyed by the light of day Where a stinging, aching cut or bruise Can be healed by a kiss Where a girl can transform into a fairy princess By slipping on a voluminous pink tutu Where a boy becomes a conquering hero By arming himself with an intimidating roll of wrapping paper Where a slightly unkempt yard Becomes a jungle full of tigers and serpents Where an in ground pool Becomes an ocean whose depths must be explored Where winter Is a season for snowmen and presents Where summer Is a season for ice cream and beaches Where Mommy Is the best chef, nurse, and storyteller Where Daddy Is the great protector, hug giver, and handyman Where science has no bearing Because rainbows and lightning come from magic Where logic doesn’t make sense Because the powers of love and fantasy are illogical And there is no place for suffering Because pain is overshadowed by innocence
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Feb 26, 2012
Feb 26, 2012 at 7:01 PM UTC
The Innocence of Youth
I’ve been told to communicate with you through dreams through prayer through wishes But I thought I’d write you a letter instead Do they receive letters in heaven? Or hell? After all, you chose to commit suicide. Such an ugly word; one I can’t seem to say anymore And it was your decision to leave To leave the stress the responsibility the pain And I could understand all of that if not for one thing; You left me The man so paranoid about my safety You locked everything and once armed me with expired pepper spray rather than leave me weaponless But now you’ve left me unprotected An easy target for anyone wishing to throw darts or shoot a gun Speaking of guns Where’d you get that shotgun and where did you hide it? Such a messy and grisly weapon of choice For the man with the perfectly coifed hair and the immaculate shirts and sweater vests I got my driver’s license And now, everywhere I drive, your voice echoes suggestions in my head And I remember you saying so recently that you couldn’t wait to teach me how to drive in snow Why would you say that? And why did you end everything so close to my birthday? Was the goal to see me turn seventeen because that meant I was old enough to handle your death? Because being 17 years and 6 days old still wasn’t old enough to handle what I dealt with It wasn’t old enough to see you lying there People say you didn’t mean to hurt me You never meant for me to be the one to find you But who else was going to do it? I mean you must have thought of that But I don’t want you thinking I was your perfect unblemished daughter before this I’ve made out with a boy I’ve drank alcohol I’ve sexted If you even know what that means Plus, I’ve been dealing with Mom’s cancer for a number of years now Speaking of which, I don’t know if you’ve heard But Mom’s cancer is back and she’s hit the jackpot this time It’s in her pancreas and she hasn’t got very long to live, so maybe you’ll see her soon That is, if you are in heaven And that brings us to the question doesn’t it: why couldn’t you have waited? Waited for me to get my license for Kristen’s Sweet 16 for my graduation Was life really that unbearably bleak that you couldn’t have lasted one more month? Because I’m lasting Even though now life seems like a cruel joke An unfair game where things get taken away with no notice and for no reason And that childhood pastime Kristen and I had of pretending to be orphans Doesn’t seem so fun anymore I can’t make wishes anymore either Because the things I truly want to wish for with all of my heart can’t come true ***** the Disney princesses because even a thousand eyelash wishes couldn’t bring back Just one of your deep belly laughs to wake me up in the morning And I know this wasn’t your intention, at least I hope it wasn’t, But you’ve left me feeling kind of worthless Because I wasn’t worth saying goodbye to or writing a letter for I wasn’t worth holding onto And ever since you’ve left, Dad, I’ve felt empty And all of that empty space must be filled with tears because I constantly feel like crying All I want is for you to hold me, just for a minute, But you can’t always get what you want, right? I guess the emptiness makes sense Even if it’s sometimes a paradoxical emptiness because I’ve been suffocating ever since I opened that door And fell into the abyss
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Feb 26, 2012
Feb 26, 2012 at 6:34 PM UTC
Dearest Dad...
I’ve been told to communicate with you through dreams through prayer through wishes But I thought I’d write you a letter instead Do they receive letters in heaven? Or hell? After all, you chose to commit suicide. Such an ugly word; one I can’t seem to say anymore And it was your decision to leave To leave the stress the responsibility the pain And I could understand all of that if not for one thing; You left me The man so paranoid about my safety You locked everything and once armed me with expired pepper spray rather than leave me weaponless But now you’ve left me unprotected An easy target for anyone wishing to throw darts or shoot a gun Speaking of guns Where’d you get that shotgun and where did you hide it? Such a messy and grisly weapon of choice For the man with the perfectly coifed hair and the immaculate shirts and sweater vests I got my driver’s license And now, everywhere I drive, your voice echoes suggestions in my head And I remember you saying so recently that you couldn’t wait to teach me how to drive in snow Why would you say that? And why did you end everything so close to my birthday? Was the goal to see me turn seventeen because that meant I was old enough to handle your death? Because being 17 years and 6 days old still wasn’t old enough to handle what I dealt with It wasn’t old enough to see you lying there People say you didn’t mean to hurt me You never meant for me to be the one to find you But who else was going to do it? I mean you must have thought of that But I don’t want you thinking I was your perfect unblemished daughter before this I’ve made out with a boy I’ve drank alcohol I’ve sexted If you even know what that means Plus, I’ve been dealing with Mom’s cancer for a number of years now Speaking of which, I don’t know if you’ve heard But Mom’s cancer is back and she’s hit the jackpot this time It’s in her pancreas and she hasn’t got very long to live, so maybe you’ll see her soon That is, if you are in heaven And that brings us to the question doesn’t it: why couldn’t you have waited? Waited for me to get my license for Kristen’s Sweet 16 for my graduation Was life really that unbearably bleak that you couldn’t have lasted one more month? Because I’m lasting Even though now life seems like a cruel joke An unfair game where things get taken away with no notice and for no reason And that childhood pastime Kristen and I had of pretending to be orphans Doesn’t seem so fun anymore I can’t make wishes anymore either Because the things I truly want to wish for with all of my heart can’t come true ***** the Disney princesses because even a thousand eyelash wishes couldn’t bring back Just one of your deep belly laughs to wake me up in the morning And I know this wasn’t your intention, at least I hope it wasn’t, But you’ve left me feeling kind of worthless Because I wasn’t worth saying goodbye to or writing a letter for I wasn’t worth holding onto And ever since you’ve left, Dad, I’ve felt empty And all of that empty space must be filled with tears because I constantly feel like crying All I want is for you to hold me, just for a minute, But you can’t always get what you want, right? I guess the emptiness makes sense Even if it’s sometimes a paradoxical emptiness because I’ve been suffocating ever since I opened that door And fell into the abyss
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Red is the color of embarrassment. Having to explain why my mom can’t drive or make dinner or walk alone. Orange is the color and smell of fake tan lotion. A substitute for sunlight, and its harmful ultraviolet rays. Yellow is the color of the sun itself. The reason for life on Earth, but also my constant frustration. Green is the color of her garden. Still managing to grow and flourish by her hand as she withers and breaks down. Blue is the color of my eyes. From which tears flow, but only in private. Replicas of my dad’s, which house pain and anger. Purple is the color of bruises caused by absentmindedly colliding hips and shins with corners. Benign internal bleeding. White is the color of the pages in books. A cheaper and healthier alternative to drugs. A carefully crafted escape. Black is the color of night. Where dreams so easily converge with nightmares and the mind tries to make sense of what happened today, And what will inevitably recur tomorrow.
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Feb 25, 2012
Feb 25, 2012 at 1:57 PM UTC
The Visible Spectrum of My Life
Delicate daisies ripped from the earth to create a beautiful bouquet. An anonymous arrangement with no note; a wordless love letter. A minor mystery is formed that sparks interest as people speak in wondering whispers Trivial time in the day elongates stretching into ongoing hours Subtly searching the faces of boys, young men with hearts and hormones Who hope for love and romance, too embarrassed to admit their “feminine” fantasies The sun sleeps, the moon comes out, and I put the daisies in a vase smelling their sweetness A lamp lights the room as I change clothes, removing the shirt that matches the fragrant flowers I slip off to sleep as a fan whirs, my breathing slows, and worries turn into deep dreams I imagine a face, a person, to go along with those delicate daisies My anonymous admirer
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Feb 25, 2012
Feb 25, 2012 at 1:55 PM UTC
Secret Admirer
Crushed by boys and men Weathered away by cancer Ripped open by death Still it keeps beating Seemingly impossible With all of it’s wounds A pulsing rhythm Punctuated by sharp pains Understandable What keeps me living Sometimes I wish it wouldn’t But I have no say So I stay alive Feeling blood pump through my veins And yet I wonder Oh how can that be? How can my heart support me When it is broken?
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Feb 22, 2012
Feb 22, 2012 at 12:41 PM UTC
My Heart in Haikus
Friends and family come together There is strength in numbers and we are strong I am a rock for my sister and mother to lean on I miss you I talk to people They say it isn’t good to keep things bottled up Let the tears flow into the cold night with arms wrapped around me And I miss you Schoolwork has to get done Somehow I remember chemistry and history in the midst of chaos I solve equations and analyze poetry Still I miss you Back to the normal busy schedule Waking up before the sun to prepare for a tough day Walk down the hallway to my locker Oh how I miss you Playing cello for the musical Shoulders aching, but harmonizing well I finally pack up my instrument for the day Realize I miss you Go over a friend’s house I can’t help but smile at the surprise party my friends have put together I turn into a five year old again playing on floors of lava and inhaling helium But I miss you Tuck myself into bed at night I hope that tomorrow will be a good day and pray for sweet dreams I slowly drift off to sleep with tears rolling down my cheeks I will always miss you
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Feb 21, 2012
Feb 21, 2012 at 6:54 PM UTC
Missing You
Wake up in the morning Discover a bruise under my collarbone Over my heart The result of a shove away from you Out of your space Walking upstairs reveals sore thighs Thinking they must be from your leg between mine When I tried to catch my balance by holding on to you But I fell anyway Come across black and blue knees in the shower From struggling on the floor And bumping into things Clumsy as I try to navigate around you Find scratches across my fingers while I write Blood beading on my dry skin Battle wounds from combat Requiring cleaning and healing Go to sleep at night Happy with the physical injuries That hurt so much less than the ones in my heart
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Feb 21, 2012
Feb 21, 2012 at 6:52 PM UTC
Taking Inventory
You’re special, but not much more than most. You just happened to be in the right place at the right time. I poured my heart out to you and leaned on your strong shoulders, Even while you took advantage of my pain and asked for things you shouldn’t have. We go through a cycle of me leaving you, Going through withdrawal and finding other people to be my pillars. But then you come in with kind words and gestures and I melt all over again, Crumbling into your embrace. My heart seems to constantly be full of pain to the point of overflowing, But I always manage to widen it and make room for you. Love is a tricky emotion and is as finicky as water, Changing phases under different pressure and temperatures. And yet I can honestly say that I have and do love you, With your rough exterior and warm words that heat me up from the inside out. Just like everything else in the world, there is an equal and opposite reaction to this love. A hate that burns so hot that it can evaporate my stomach and dissolve me into tears. I could easily be described as a responsible, intelligent, levelheaded girl, The one all the parents used to hope would rub off on their children like fairy dust. But this Tinkerbell turns into Dumbo when you show affection, And misplaces her brain in the depths of her passion. I offer myself up to you time and time again like a painstakingly prepared meal, But you devour me, and spit me back out to move onto another feast. Your words, which have kept me sane, can drive me to insanity. I spend days, weeks, months analyzing the phrase, “I’m actually looking for a girlfriend now”. I’d love to know what your qualifications for a girlfriend are because I must have met them once. Has the bar been raised, do you think, “been there done that”, or are there just better options? We always reconnect when gravity shifts and my world comes crashing down on me, But I can’t help but feel it’s unhealthy for both of us if I rely on you excessively. I don’t want to become the next girl who puts you into a depressed funk, Ruining memories of a holiday for you along with any chance of a relationship. But how do you expect me to act when the attention from you that I crave Is only rewarded when I’m spiraling out of control, or just downward? How upset do I need to be for you to give me a smile, comforting words, a hug? How hopeless do I need to be for you to understand that I’m barely holding myself together? And why do my thoughts and feet carry me to you whenever I find myself back in a dark place? I mean you’re special, but not much more than most. I guess you just happened to be in the right place at the right time.
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Feb 21, 2012
Feb 21, 2012 at 6:44 PM UTC
I'm Heels Over Head, Not Head Over Heels
You’re special, but not much more than most. You just happened to be in the right place at the right time. I poured my heart out to you and leaned on your strong shoulders, Even while you took advantage of my pain and asked for things you shouldn’t have. We go through a cycle of me leaving you, Going through withdrawal and finding other people to be my pillars. But then you come in with kind words and gestures and I melt all over again, Crumbling into your embrace. My heart seems to constantly be full of pain to the point of overflowing, But I always manage to widen it and make room for you. Love is a tricky emotion and is as finicky as water, Changing phases under different pressure and temperatures. And yet I can honestly say that I have and do love you, With your rough exterior and warm words that heat me up from the inside out. Just like everything else in the world, there is an equal and opposite reaction to this love. A hate that burns so hot that it can evaporate my stomach and dissolve me into tears. I could easily be described as a responsible, intelligent, levelheaded girl, The one all the parents used to hope would rub off on their children like fairy dust. But this Tinkerbell turns into Dumbo when you show affection, And misplaces her brain in the depths of her passion. I offer myself up to you time and time again like a painstakingly prepared meal, But you devour me, and spit me back out to move onto another feast. Your words, which have kept me sane, can drive me to insanity. I spend days, weeks, months analyzing the phrase, “I’m actually looking for a girlfriend now”. I’d love to know what your qualifications for a girlfriend are because I must have met them once. Has the bar been raised, do you think, “been there done that”, or are there just better options? We always reconnect when gravity shifts and my world comes crashing down on me, But I can’t help but feel it’s unhealthy for both of us if I rely on you excessively. I don’t want to become the next girl who puts you into a depressed funk, Ruining memories of a holiday for you along with any chance of a relationship. But how do you expect me to act when the attention from you that I crave Is only rewarded when I’m spiraling out of control, or just downward? How upset do I need to be for you to give me a smile, comforting words, a hug? How hopeless do I need to be for you to understand that I’m barely holding myself together? And why do my thoughts and feet carry me to you whenever I find myself back in a dark place? I mean you’re special, but not much more than most. I guess you just happened to be in the right place at the right time.
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