shades-of-grace - Hello Poetry

I carved a hole for you inside of myself Making a space where you fit perfectly I didn't even realize I was carving it Day by day I etched your space inside of me Not realizing the void I was making only knowing it's where you belong ...belonged... It's a cozy nook nestled in places I'd forgotten I had a corner you will never be able to fill aren't allowed to fill I carved a hole inside of myself and now I'm standing, gasping holding the shavings of my insides remainders I so gladly discarded I try putting them back try plugging the leak to stem the tide of emotions but it's no use they won't fit anymore Nothing will fit anymore The throbbing ache reminds me of mistakes terrible mistakes, amazing mistakes Mistake isn't the right word I can't call those choices anything but missteps I wanted to take wanted so badly to take I pass you, see you, sense you You haven't gotten any less intoxicating My head is flooded with once tantalizing daydreams swimming in sweet regrets, fractured futures, empty longings come on in the water's fine You haven't gotten any less magnetic I don't know yet how to live with this chasm I made I hadn't meant to make you so much space I inhale the wind whistling through the jagged edges of a hole I can't fill At least now I have more air

0

Jan 12, 2014

Jan 12, 2014 at 7:23 PM UTC

Your Place

I carved a hole for you inside of myself Making a space where you fit perfectly I didn't even realize I was carving it Day by day I etched your space inside of me Not realizing the void I was making only knowing it's where you belong ...belonged... It's a cozy nook nestled in places I'd forgotten I had a corner you will never be able to fill aren't allowed to fill I carved a hole inside of myself and now I'm standing, gasping holding the shavings of my insides remainders I so gladly discarded I try putting them back try plugging the leak to stem the tide of emotions but it's no use they won't fit anymore Nothing will fit anymore The throbbing ache reminds me of mistakes terrible mistakes, amazing mistakes Mistake isn't the right word I can't call those choices anything but missteps I wanted to take wanted so badly to take I pass you, see you, sense you You haven't gotten any less intoxicating My head is flooded with once tantalizing daydreams swimming in sweet regrets, fractured futures, empty longings come on in the water's fine You haven't gotten any less magnetic I don't know yet how to live with this chasm I made I hadn't meant to make you so much space I inhale the wind whistling through the jagged edges of a hole I can't fill At least now I have more air

39

Sleepless my mind churns surveying the debris of a bomb I hadn’t intended to detonate hadn’t truly realized was a bomb Sometimes, I guess, when you’re playing with fire you can get lost its flickering glow the way the flames dance so lovely around one another the mesmerizing swirl of spark and smoke the welcoming warmth like hands on your cheeks pulling you slowly closer… you can get so lost you forget that fire burns, consumes, ravages, destroys leaving only dust Now I’m left in piles of ash and debris each ***** remnant bearing the glaring mark of my guilt When you lose what is dear grief is the natural response When you are the one responsible for that destruction grief becomes a speck of dust in the auditorium of loss and shame and pain I wade slowly through the shards of a shattered reality each cutting deeply at the growing void of hurt within I have forgone the seeking of comfort abandoned my search for a salve to soothe the sting I wander through a town of broken people beginning to bustle again with life If they’re living why do I feel so dead inside? I walk and wave inhale the dust of what I’ve destroyed I hope desperately that if I look enough like them play the part well enough then it will become reality “I’m doing great. Yeah, I’m mending up just fine. Never better!” I lie with a smile sell sweet half-truths to myself so well I almost believe them *But then the stillness comes And your voice echoes in my head and I can’t shake the hunger for you*

0

Jan 12, 2014

Jan 12, 2014 at 7:02 PM UTC

Sleepless Hunger

Sleepless my mind churns surveying the debris of a bomb I hadn’t intended to detonate hadn’t truly realized was a bomb Sometimes, I guess, when you’re playing with fire you can get lost its flickering glow the way the flames dance so lovely around one another the mesmerizing swirl of spark and smoke the welcoming warmth like hands on your cheeks pulling you slowly closer… you can get so lost you forget that fire burns, consumes, ravages, destroys leaving only dust Now I’m left in piles of ash and debris each ***** remnant bearing the glaring mark of my guilt When you lose what is dear grief is the natural response When you are the one responsible for that destruction grief becomes a speck of dust in the auditorium of loss and shame and pain I wade slowly through the shards of a shattered reality each cutting deeply at the growing void of hurt within I have forgone the seeking of comfort abandoned my search for a salve to soothe the sting I wander through a town of broken people beginning to bustle again with life If they’re living why do I feel so dead inside? I walk and wave inhale the dust of what I’ve destroyed I hope desperately that if I look enough like them play the part well enough then it will become reality “I’m doing great. Yeah, I’m mending up just fine. Never better!” I lie with a smile sell sweet half-truths to myself so well I almost believe them *But then the stillness comes And your voice echoes in my head and I can’t shake the hunger for you*

41

Every night they come slinking in with the stillness while I’m not looking I’ve started keeping watch for them lately but still they slip by their teeth bared fur standing on end These lonely wolves prowl beneath my ribs lurking ever nearer to my heart as the day wanes drooling to devour the joys I’ve stowed away I guard it as best I can but who am I before this brood of vicious beasts I am only one my hands are small and they tremble so I keep them at bay with scraps of artificial light staving off their inevitable attack with the uncomfortably bright glow of electronic screens reaching at distractions to keep my menacing mind busy.

0

Jan 12, 2014

Jan 12, 2014 at 6:44 PM UTC

Lonely Wolves

Every night they come slinking in with the stillness while I’m not looking I’ve started keeping watch for them lately but still they slip by their teeth bared fur standing on end These lonely wolves prowl beneath my ribs lurking ever nearer to my heart as the day wanes drooling to devour the joys I’ve stowed away I guard it as best I can but who am I before this brood of vicious beasts I am only one my hands are small and they tremble so I keep them at bay with scraps of artificial light staving off their inevitable attack with the uncomfortably bright glow of electronic screens reaching at distractions to keep my menacing mind busy.

18

I lay beside you at night and hear you breathe measure the slow way your inhale fuels your exhale I lay awake and wonder what it might be like to lay in a bed without you there Your hushed and heavy breathing has become a rhythmic and haunting reminder of our union Once bliss to my ears the knowledge of never having to be alone this night music haunts me now I run all day run from the reality of my anxiety run from the feelings about us I don’t want to feel I run all day but when I lay next to you I cannot escape the tearing longing to be elsewhere I have seen what my eyes were not meant to know I have tasted a fruit that leaves all other food bitter in my mouth I must eat and drink of our love the sustenance to which I ascribed myself in matrimony But now I lay beside you and hunger and thirst for another life the rough bonds of our union chaffing against my flesh cutting into my heart with tough circles and tight knots When the silence comes I hear your breathing and I fear these bonds will strangle me shudder at the pressing doubt that these coils will ever again feel like security With the sun I dream of futures for myself I busy myself with tasks and assignments goals and lists appointments and responsibilities so much that on good days I can almost forget that I am bound Yet every night the rising moon signals me I must return “home” the place we now share and call ours jabbing at me that I am not my own I will never again be my own

0

Jan 12, 2014

Jan 12, 2014 at 6:37 PM UTC

Different Kind of Lonely

I lay beside you at night and hear you breathe measure the slow way your inhale fuels your exhale I lay awake and wonder what it might be like to lay in a bed without you there Your hushed and heavy breathing has become a rhythmic and haunting reminder of our union Once bliss to my ears the knowledge of never having to be alone this night music haunts me now I run all day run from the reality of my anxiety run from the feelings about us I don’t want to feel I run all day but when I lay next to you I cannot escape the tearing longing to be elsewhere I have seen what my eyes were not meant to know I have tasted a fruit that leaves all other food bitter in my mouth I must eat and drink of our love the sustenance to which I ascribed myself in matrimony But now I lay beside you and hunger and thirst for another life the rough bonds of our union chaffing against my flesh cutting into my heart with tough circles and tight knots When the silence comes I hear your breathing and I fear these bonds will strangle me shudder at the pressing doubt that these coils will ever again feel like security With the sun I dream of futures for myself I busy myself with tasks and assignments goals and lists appointments and responsibilities so much that on good days I can almost forget that I am bound Yet every night the rising moon signals me I must return “home” the place we now share and call ours jabbing at me that I am not my own I will never again be my own

39

The acrid smell of failure chases me the sharp teeth of the thing nipping my heels No matter how I run, it follows the promise of exposure a realization of something I already knew The dance we do enables me to avoid it day in and day out floating just out of danger’s reach a child in traffic, I’m never quite caught But failure can’t be held off forever Persistent, it pursues me relentless patiently waiting for me to falter prolonging my agony until I succumb Oh and when I do the shame of being seen! You promise it doesn’t matter bathing me in sweet truths I know are lies Sweet lies to which I cling hoping desperately that if I hold them tightly enough engulf them with my being shove them in the spaces inside me into which they do not fit that maybe then they will become the sweet truths they are for you Inches from me you reach an arm around me a gesture strained over the oceans separating our depths I’m drowning in the doubts you can’t see You reach to me on an island of isolation but I’m surrounded by companions you can’t perceive pressed on all sides You’ve joined me in life chosen me to walk beside They’re your companions too now but you look right through them Ghosts you don’t believe in The acrid stench of failure hangs from me clouding the space between us You breath deep unwilling to sense the smell.

0

Jan 12, 2014

Jan 12, 2014 at 5:02 PM UTC

Ghosts You Don't Believe In

The acrid smell of failure chases me the sharp teeth of the thing nipping my heels No matter how I run, it follows the promise of exposure a realization of something I already knew The dance we do enables me to avoid it day in and day out floating just out of danger’s reach a child in traffic, I’m never quite caught But failure can’t be held off forever Persistent, it pursues me relentless patiently waiting for me to falter prolonging my agony until I succumb Oh and when I do the shame of being seen! You promise it doesn’t matter bathing me in sweet truths I know are lies Sweet lies to which I cling hoping desperately that if I hold them tightly enough engulf them with my being shove them in the spaces inside me into which they do not fit that maybe then they will become the sweet truths they are for you Inches from me you reach an arm around me a gesture strained over the oceans separating our depths I’m drowning in the doubts you can’t see You reach to me on an island of isolation but I’m surrounded by companions you can’t perceive pressed on all sides You’ve joined me in life chosen me to walk beside They’re your companions too now but you look right through them Ghosts you don’t believe in The acrid stench of failure hangs from me clouding the space between us You breath deep unwilling to sense the smell.

42

I can’t decide which part is worse. 4 am, lying restlessly awake, feeling like I’m in some sort of heart free-fall, every fiber of me reaching for you and the mirage of what I want us to be. Or Sitting across from you in a room with friends, my stomach in knots, trying to keep my smile as smooth and cool as yours seems, working so hard to pry my mind off of memories of you and I. Or When we’re finally alone and the strained conversation is swallowing me like a black hole inside my chest, ******* from the inside out, the gulf of sentiments we won’t venture painfully widening the creeping chasm between us. Or Those songs on the radio that remind me of you, telling of what we have been, what we could be, their rhythms stirring up the strangest ripples of longing and regret and panic and isolation. Or The quiet moment when I catch your eye and try to read between the lines of your words and gestures, searching your receding depths for hidden traces of this same torture, wondering with mixed hope and fear if that longing still burns deep in you. I can’t decide which is worse. To endure it and hope it gets better. Or to leave and know it never will.

0

Jan 11, 2014

Jan 11, 2014 at 11:39 AM UTC

I Can't Decide

I can’t decide which part is worse. 4 am, lying restlessly awake, feeling like I’m in some sort of heart free-fall, every fiber of me reaching for you and the mirage of what I want us to be. Or Sitting across from you in a room with friends, my stomach in knots, trying to keep my smile as smooth and cool as yours seems, working so hard to pry my mind off of memories of you and I. Or When we’re finally alone and the strained conversation is swallowing me like a black hole inside my chest, ******* from the inside out, the gulf of sentiments we won’t venture painfully widening the creeping chasm between us. Or Those songs on the radio that remind me of you, telling of what we have been, what we could be, their rhythms stirring up the strangest ripples of longing and regret and panic and isolation. Or The quiet moment when I catch your eye and try to read between the lines of your words and gestures, searching your receding depths for hidden traces of this same torture, wondering with mixed hope and fear if that longing still burns deep in you. I can’t decide which is worse. To endure it and hope it gets better. Or to leave and know it never will.

13