look for you
side to side
knowing you were never in clear view of my perspective.
each step closer you are a step back and then you disappear
like watching a tablet dissolve in water
the tablets gone but the color of water is oh so changed
my color will always be slightly changed
you let me see through a key hole what loving you is like
but then ripped it away faster than a child's attempt to play with flames
your purpose to me stands undefined.
only a reminder, even with trails of my past heartaches i still
would like to love deeply like a fool
you will cboose to love less,
continue to pull the door step mats from beneath future lovers
and leave cold bare feet on the wood
my bare feet chose to walk away, but my pathetic heart is imprinted
spending days
writing an album worth of songs for you ears to never here
playing piano with one fragile hand and
grasping a mason jar overflowing with whiskey with the other.
Oct 24, 2015
Oct 24, 2015 at 7:13 PM UTC
Living among the world as though
Comfortable closure exists
Intertwined hands and soft kisses drift from present to past
Tried to blend lives in unison
Like acrylic paints forming new shades
Shades of memories exist but pushed into a storage room
I go among my days now like how they were before
Before I found maybe the light of love
The light of something that shined so bright, I blinded my eyes and said goodbye
Being afraid of hapiness for fear of losing it
The days drift on so casually and your name is fading off my lips
Keep myself running miles in the opposite direction of where I'll find you
Today I watched a feather fall so delicately from my pants
I knew it was from your bed sheets
the storage place in my mind unwinds
Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 1:30 PM UTC
My ears pick up the sounds coming close
chugga chugga choo choo
patiently wait while excitement infects my bones
my cold squinting eyes scan the track
train is inching into sight
shaky cold legs, counting seconds till arrival
one two three four five six seconds
the train yields with screaming loudness
ears yell to hands
mittens push over ears with intent to rescue
see the conductor, let the wind push me to the entrance
put headphones in and get lost in a world of my own
blast off, the train soars and my mind wanders
with a wandering mind I am leaning against a frosted window
suddenly
my head bumps off the window and the train comes yielding
one two three four five six seconds
I feel panic shoot through my veins
we had not even reached a second stop
heads turn and questions are passed around like candy on halloween
careless and free
I see the hat of a conductor bobbling,coming closer
"a man has been killed on the tracks"
"we can no longer run this train"
one woman, " well what the hell am I supposed to do now?"
one man, " where do I go now? I have places to be."
other faces" angry and filled with eyes of annoyance"
One two three four five six seconds
people begin to put foot after foot, stomp off a train
left lost in my mind but in whole different world once again
one two three four five six seconds
Conductor: Miss are you ok?
silently I get off the train
one two three four five six seconds
life is gone
a man has perished
all aboard the train of realization
all aboard the train of ignorance
once two three four five six seconds
what has happened to the regard for human life?
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 10:39 PM UTC
Your delicacy lingers like the porcupined white rose
Grab to quick and the beauty will make elegant fingers leak rouge
The pain shoots like a gun, fast and greedy
But such a fragile reminder of what it
means to be a human
Want to grab the beauty and sniff the petals and embrace the texture of nature
Can't forget that scent and puzzled pieced skin that layed to create what I consider a beautiful creature
pull you closer and closer the stronger the grip the more the stem of a rose will stab
A tighter desire the deeper the cut
Fulfilling a numbness I begged to touch the beauty and intertwine you into my whirlpool of disaster
Thought that seeking beauty could cure a disease
Once again , I reached and grabbed
The white rose
It pricked pricked pricked
Not alive , not aware, I felt unpleasant pain inside the numbness
Earth quaking change pulled me inside your disaster
When you knew I was seeking a cure to my own
Manipulating phrases and songs I didn't want to hear anymore
I see the white rose, I reach and ever so gently I reach for the stem
Put the white rose to my nose and sniff pure freedom
Glide petals against my cheek and realize true beauty
Without the ***** , without your unforgiving love
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 12:46 PM UTC
I became mesmorized by the water filter attached to the sink
From ***** to clean the water glides
Doing so to please each humans needs
Water the necessity, the core of living, life, existence
Filling each cup of energy
Filling each cup of life
Filter: a device to remove impurities
My mind drifted and with shaky hands I began to remember
Filter: a device to remove impurities
How similar I though how similar
Filtering , like my speech daily ,y words altered to be clean
To build into the right sentence, the sentence that fits into a specific place set and stone
Once it is filtered there is not return to *****
I remember as a child the day I was told to filter
The day I was told to engage myself within myself
To intertwine words in between my bones and hide them there untill they we're spell checked
to play hide and seek, more hiding than seeking
Make sure the words find approval
Ecspecially through man, because the word man is placed in woman
But woman not in man
As a defiant child I questioned life's reasonings
A woman found me, an adult figure I clung to like the last leaves on a tree
She spoke elgant and quiet
You cannot stand alone young girl you must think before each syllable flys like birds from the cage in your mouth
Suppress your mind disable yourself so you can exist among the superior
For generations to generations this is the curse
but such a blessing to live
We do not question humanity or the man in the w-o
You were born this way dear you cannot help whats under your skirt
I will train you to deal with the cards you have been dealt
But never speak of my teachings for out loud we are equal
I opened my ears like arms for a hug and stitched my mouth like buttons on a shirt
Ten years later I stand at my kitchen sink and I feel the words under my ribs and the sentences wrapped around my neck
I open my trap to let go of the misspelled words under my ribs
But there gone, seeking and seeking I want all my words back but they evaporated, forgotten among the earth
I take the filter and twirl it in between my fingers
Holding freedom between palms
filter: a device to remove impurities
I pour a glass of ***** water and take a sip, a gulp,
oh. the glorious tast, the glorious taste of impurity
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 12:43 PM UTC
Happiness,always reaching but barely touching
Like a young child on tip-toes reaching to a cabinet but just touching the tip of the mug
counting seconds till the collide of heels back to ground, defeat
Like trial and error, happiness was lurking and begging for my grasp
Searching for a grasp
I was told to find my center
But like watching a constant swinging pendulum I could not stop
never able to stop, discover,and explore the center
I was told happiness is not easy, not for your kind
Kind compassionate loving, why was being happy so unfulfilling
Unfulfilling, Like holding sand in your hands but it slides through those palms
Palms left empty
Emptiness, like watching an hour glass of sand
sand finds the bottom and you see, feel, and understand half-full
Full,full, full
I found you and I found full
fulfillment of a new kind: kind compassionate loving
Hapiness not reaching or barely touching but grasping
Like a young child on tip-toes reaching in a cabinet for a mug and that grasp and pull
the feeling when heels kiss the wood floor; sign of relief
Like holding piles of sand and each grain is sliding through palms
Palms no longer left open and empty
My palms meets yours when the sand feels lost and gone
like an hour glass perfectly timed
And placed horizontal
We create balance
Like watching a pendulum stopped from the sway
Finding the center
Still, calm, peaceful
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 12:25 PM UTC
intertwine and window into my insight on opportunity
behold green leaves falling from branches turn to (paper)
paved buildings producing educational programming
twisting like counter clockwise drills into a ignorant skull
leading to this source of never ending deposits
reproducing then only for what can be afforded
stealing that nature from right inside my female bones
attend your designated duty or (job)- debt
will crawl under your wine colored nails and manifest until:
the prayer "my soul to take" will apply
suppress my speech, i beg; my
swaying freedom of speech is turning into a depression of alcoholic slurs
never mend your thoughts too tight, or this macrocosm seems like thoughts
are trapped in an endless revolving door
intertwine and window into my insight on opportunity
because this is what they call:
the American Dream
Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 4:19 PM UTC
the white noise is calming due to the interruption of sober silence
depriving senses, seeming like aphasia, looking through peripheral to see
all but what was was straight in the clear, sight insufficiently corrupted
painful holdings and a hand punched into the car door beside me
screaming about the difficulties, a voice that cracked like stained glass
suddenly given a voice, to only express furthermore misapprehension
a voice that spoke words
that could be seen forming in the air above
the words that wrapped around my body and clung like static
pulled me like a rope twisted leash, forming circulating rusted lesions
across a protruding collarbone
stare down deep into the roots of a tender willow tree
look down, and avoid the expression on that face
and the truck that was unnecessarily punished
now pretend you have aphasia, pretend that lesions don't **** slowly
and pray your face doesn't end up like that car door
Dec 4, 2013
Dec 4, 2013 at 9:06 PM UTC
Sometimes I forget, but only sometimes, you become that book at the bottom of the stack. The part that just barely peaks out, so you can only see one word from the title or author. Thats the part that makes you randomly remember. Every time you glance over at the stack, and see the edge, with that one word. Thats those sometimes, that the remembering haunts you. In between the remembering and forgetting, you have that frustration which is like the time when you get that glue stick. That glue stick that is dried out. All you can do is roll the glue stick up and down, dreading the fact you now have to take a trip all the way to a store to buy a new one. On the car ride, you stop to get a coffee, but all you can think of is how that "supposed significant other" never told you they didn't like coffee for two years and you would buy them one every day. I wish the only thing you took from me was that $2.63, in a styrofoam cup, but you unfortunately took a lot more than that. So now, out peaking is that word from that book at the bottom of the stack. Who knew that $2.63, gave you the feeling of being deprived from oxygen. Now driving, you think a little but a little too much. So you shove that memory into the jack in the box in your mind and hope it does not pop out again. Arriving, at Staples is sadder than intended. So while looking for a new glue stick, you start to find a way to get a bottle, you find it, and you drink it. The liquor spills over that book. The one hidden at the bottom of the stack. It drowns the pages. No good or bad memories, all thoughts drifting away like the words on that page. Just like the page everything becomes a blur. Waking up with asleep by the smiths still playing, you roll over and feel that sickness.You wonder why you do this to yourself. But it blurred out the book, though the one at the bottom of the stack that started to peak out again. So sometimes, I forget, but sometimes this is what happens when I remmember.
Dec 2, 2013
Dec 2, 2013 at 6:21 PM UTC
I was driving home from the mall today. It was a pitch-black night and the cold November air caused my breath to turn to smoke. I felt so free, because it was one of the first times I was driving my newly bought car. As I was driving, I was mouthing lyrics to my favorite song and I felt so genuinely happy. All of a sudden, I saw two bodies lying in the middle of the road. They were about a foot apart. One body behind the first one. I figured this was a joke, and that somebody was testing how I was going to react. I even thought just for a moment maybe I was going to be on television. I quickly pulled to the right, naïve and unable to think clearly. I looked to the left and saw a man outside his car. The car’s windshield was completely smashed and the front bumper had indentations all over it. I quickly looked back at the road and saw blood oozing everywhere from the first body. It was smeared all over the road and the second body was not moving at all. I looked in front and there were only two other cars pulled over to the right. I looked back at the strange man with glasses who was talking rapidly to what I assumed, 911 on the phone. Seeing the car, the blood, the unknown, I feel too close. I was two feet away from from the bodies, maybe dead, with a road lying under red liquid. As people slowly lined up behind my car to the side of this road, some got out to help. I sat in shock, unable to move, or drive, and was trapped in by two cars. I sat there trying not too stare at the girl who appeared to be trying to move and the gender unable to, but more likely a boy, not moving. This body had about two people checking its pulse. As six people gathered around the girl, holding her down so she would not move, as she squealed under her breath. Frozen, I sat gripping my steering wheel, and clenching my teeth. My eyes were stuck on those two bodies, it was as if I was trapped there with them. The car behind me, eventually turned around and I was slowly able to turn around and pull away from the gathered group of people, line of cars, and two possibly dead bodies. I drive up the road and hear sirens. I pulled, once again, to the right of the road, and let three ambulances pass me. I drive home blank stared and in a zombie phase. I got to the parking lot across the street from my house and began uncontrollably screaming and crying with a pain I have never felt before. I thought of their age, their families, the pain they must have felt. I also thought about how they must have felt entrapped on the cold road , unable to move or communicate, waiting for an ambulance or an afterlife. I felt so angry, and had a revelation , that the only possible thing I had in common with these two people were humanity and death. As I sat envisioning, these two bodies, I remembered my past and how once I wanted to be there. How once, I felt so low, I tried to bring myself to this ”only guaranteed factor of life.” I know I only arrived home a half hour ago but I am already feeling haunted by this incident. I will never forget what I have just seen. I now understand how precious life really is. It is not just a cliché saying to me. I now know anything can happen. I don’t think I understood the meaning of life. At age seventeen, I sit here now knowing death is horrifically permanent and that life is an unexplainable beauty. I will never forget marlborough road, and I will forever cherish the roads that my life takes me too.
Dec 2, 2013
Dec 2, 2013 at 5:44 PM UTC