the-epitome-of-insane - Hello Poetry

Grief always finds a way to hit you the hardest when you least expect it. It's been over a year and a half, and I can push by and smile even on days when my thoughts resort back to you when I'm alone in my car at 7:30 on a winding country road. but unexpectedly, scrolling through Facebook, stumbling upon a picture your mom posted you, sitting out to dinner with your siblings, big smile, eyes twinkling (how could someone so full of life decide to end it all) can send me into a spiral now sitting at my kitchen island, turning into a blubbering mess, trying to console myself telling myself that you're watching down on me telling me that you don't like seeing me so upset.

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Nov 5, 2023

Nov 5, 2023 at 7:54 PM UTC

Complicated Grief

Grief always finds a way to hit you the hardest when you least expect it. It's been over a year and a half, and I can push by and smile even on days when my thoughts resort back to you when I'm alone in my car at 7:30 on a winding country road. but unexpectedly, scrolling through Facebook, stumbling upon a picture your mom posted you, sitting out to dinner with your siblings, big smile, eyes twinkling (how could someone so full of life decide to end it all) can send me into a spiral now sitting at my kitchen island, turning into a blubbering mess, trying to console myself telling myself that you're watching down on me telling me that you don't like seeing me so upset.

7

Everyone asked me what I wanted for my birthday this year, and I didn’t really have an answer. I’ve felt somewhat numb this week. After the clock struck midnight, and it was my 24th year on this earth, it was made very clear to me what I want for my birthday. I want things to go back to how they were, dumb teenagers in love with each other, holding on maybe just a little too tight. I want to lose track of time with you in your bed, listening to songs that seemed so relevant when pouring our hearts out to each other. We ended things and moved on with our lives in very separate directions, but we always stayed connected. I think we were both secretly rooting for our reconnection, someday, when the timing was “right”. And no matter how far apart we had grown, there was always unexpected reminders of you everywhere. We kept in touch. The depth of our love created this ongoing tension, always tethered. I talked to your mom a few days ago, on the anniversary of your death. She’s one of the only people that I think truly understands the complexity of my pain. I never got closure from any of this. The only thing I’m left with is the realization that I’ll never get a “happy birthday” from you ever again. Maybe I’m selfish, but I think it’s okay to be selfish on your birthday. and my only wish is that you were still here. that you didn’t take your life. that somehow you’re still out there thinking about me when I’m thinking about you, like how it always was, but will never be again. The only thing that I can do is listen to our songs, and talk to the moon. I would do anything for you to be able to listen.

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Jun 7, 2023

Jun 7, 2023 at 12:35 AM UTC

Year 24

Everyone asked me what I wanted for my birthday this year, and I didn’t really have an answer. I’ve felt somewhat numb this week. After the clock struck midnight, and it was my 24th year on this earth, it was made very clear to me what I want for my birthday. I want things to go back to how they were, dumb teenagers in love with each other, holding on maybe just a little too tight. I want to lose track of time with you in your bed, listening to songs that seemed so relevant when pouring our hearts out to each other. We ended things and moved on with our lives in very separate directions, but we always stayed connected. I think we were both secretly rooting for our reconnection, someday, when the timing was “right”. And no matter how far apart we had grown, there was always unexpected reminders of you everywhere. We kept in touch. The depth of our love created this ongoing tension, always tethered. I talked to your mom a few days ago, on the anniversary of your death. She’s one of the only people that I think truly understands the complexity of my pain. I never got closure from any of this. The only thing I’m left with is the realization that I’ll never get a “happy birthday” from you ever again. Maybe I’m selfish, but I think it’s okay to be selfish on your birthday. and my only wish is that you were still here. that you didn’t take your life. that somehow you’re still out there thinking about me when I’m thinking about you, like how it always was, but will never be again. The only thing that I can do is listen to our songs, and talk to the moon. I would do anything for you to be able to listen.

11

love looks different now it is overgrown and tiny goodbye kisses enough to save a singular feeling of necessity but lacking the passion I crave so badly this isn’t what I had imagined going to bed alone each night and waking up to goodbyes. will it be like this forever? making silly plans for our silly life together never quite feeling like we’re doing enough never quite feeling like I’m enough and feeling guilty because I’ll never get quite enough there’s not enough intimacy or romantic gestures or cuddles in the gloomy hours to fill me up my glass is never overflowing it’s always half empty or shattered on the floor.

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Sep 26, 2022

Sep 26, 2022 at 11:53 PM UTC

different love

love looks different now it is overgrown and tiny goodbye kisses enough to save a singular feeling of necessity but lacking the passion I crave so badly this isn’t what I had imagined going to bed alone each night and waking up to goodbyes. will it be like this forever? making silly plans for our silly life together never quite feeling like we’re doing enough never quite feeling like I’m enough and feeling guilty because I’ll never get quite enough there’s not enough intimacy or romantic gestures or cuddles in the gloomy hours to fill me up my glass is never overflowing it’s always half empty or shattered on the floor.

14

I’m faking it just to stay on top of everything I’ve buried longing mistakes regrets sorrow failure heartbreak ****** desire I can’t stay on top of it all like this it slips out in waves and when I try to let myself submerge in my emotions I drown and sink deep deep down until that morning alarm clock rings.

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Sep 4, 2022

Sep 4, 2022 at 11:21 PM UTC

washed up

I’m faking it just to stay on top of everything I’ve buried longing mistakes regrets sorrow failure heartbreak ****** desire I can’t stay on top of it all like this it slips out in waves and when I try to let myself submerge in my emotions I drown and sink deep deep down until that morning alarm clock rings.

17

please stay wrapped in my mind like I knot I cannot untangle please stay soft and sweet, running your fingertips down my naked back, making the sounds of the waves with your lips please stay close enough, always just within reach for me to fall on when my legs get weak please stay connected in my life, through the coincidences and mishaps somehow leading me back to you please stay please stay don’t leave me please please.

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May 30, 2022

May 30, 2022 at 12:18 AM UTC

Please Stay

please stay wrapped in my mind like I knot I cannot untangle please stay soft and sweet, running your fingertips down my naked back, making the sounds of the waves with your lips please stay close enough, always just within reach for me to fall on when my legs get weak please stay connected in my life, through the coincidences and mishaps somehow leading me back to you please stay please stay don’t leave me please please.

16

the early bird gets the worm, right? wrong. the early bird inches her way out of her nest in the morning, longing to stay snuggled up next to her lover. the early bird leaves early so she can afford the rent on her nest that is falling apart. the early bird goes to work and gets an early start on her day, just to come back home to an empty nest and sleep for three more hours. the early bird takes long and scolding hot baths to ease her aching joints and to participate in some “self care”, even though it never really works. the early bird stares at herself in the reflection of the faucet and dissociates. the early bird takes some sleeping pills and tries to fall asleep at a reasonable time, so she can be an early riser the next day, too. the early bird tosses and turns. the early bird thinks about the dishes that are not done. the clothes are not washed. lunch isn’t made for tomorrow. the early bird has three tests this week in college and hasn’t studied for a single one. the early bird hasn’t had *** in a week. the early bird feels unnoticed. the early bird feels like she is not enough. the early bird feels like she will never be enough.

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Jan 16, 2019

Jan 16, 2019 at 4:40 PM UTC

Early Bird

the early bird gets the worm, right? wrong. the early bird inches her way out of her nest in the morning, longing to stay snuggled up next to her lover. the early bird leaves early so she can afford the rent on her nest that is falling apart. the early bird goes to work and gets an early start on her day, just to come back home to an empty nest and sleep for three more hours. the early bird takes long and scolding hot baths to ease her aching joints and to participate in some “self care”, even though it never really works. the early bird stares at herself in the reflection of the faucet and dissociates. the early bird takes some sleeping pills and tries to fall asleep at a reasonable time, so she can be an early riser the next day, too. the early bird tosses and turns. the early bird thinks about the dishes that are not done. the clothes are not washed. lunch isn’t made for tomorrow. the early bird has three tests this week in college and hasn’t studied for a single one. the early bird hasn’t had *** in a week. the early bird feels unnoticed. the early bird feels like she is not enough. the early bird feels like she will never be enough.

17

pins start to tingle the edges of my fingertips whispering to me advising me to give in the urge is stronger than me razors pills alcohol drugs *** all of these things i have learned to be dependent on in the past year none of them have been my home I had fallen in love with the one self destructive home I had and he left

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Dec 12, 2015

Dec 12, 2015 at 12:12 PM UTC

to make a home

pins start to tingle the edges of my fingertips whispering to me advising me to give in the urge is stronger than me razors pills alcohol drugs *** all of these things i have learned to be dependent on in the past year none of them have been my home I had fallen in love with the one self destructive home I had and he left

13

I keep trying to write letters but they never turn out right you taught me that home was never truly a place it is blue eyes that I could get lost in for hours pushing and pulling like the tides of the sea it is strong hands that built things up but also tore them down and still managed to leave goosebumps down my spine it is whispered 'I love you's that sound like a rainy august night hushing me to sleep it is long cold winter nights wrapped in your arms listening to our heartbeats synchronized it is the thought of our apartment it is the holidays we spent together it is the way you used to look at me it is the promises we meant to keep I am still in love with you. You are still my home. This hurts a lot less then I expected, but the pain is constant and shoots down my veins. I am addicted to you. I feel alive with you. I told you from the first time we kissed by the library that we would end up this way. every second I was with you, I knew I would end up trying to write you heartbroken letters that would never end up sounding right.

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Jun 30, 2015

Jun 30, 2015 at 12:50 PM UTC

Sincerely, Yours

I keep trying to write letters but they never turn out right you taught me that home was never truly a place it is blue eyes that I could get lost in for hours pushing and pulling like the tides of the sea it is strong hands that built things up but also tore them down and still managed to leave goosebumps down my spine it is whispered 'I love you's that sound like a rainy august night hushing me to sleep it is long cold winter nights wrapped in your arms listening to our heartbeats synchronized it is the thought of our apartment it is the holidays we spent together it is the way you used to look at me it is the promises we meant to keep I am still in love with you. You are still my home. This hurts a lot less then I expected, but the pain is constant and shoots down my veins. I am addicted to you. I feel alive with you. I told you from the first time we kissed by the library that we would end up this way. every second I was with you, I knew I would end up trying to write you heartbroken letters that would never end up sounding right.

21

cover me in your bloodstained bed sheets that still smell like cigarettes and *** from the night she left mid-august press your ears against my chest listen to my heartbeat write a song to the rhythm of what keeps me grounded, but all of the lyrics are about her title it her name we always talk about the ocean and how listening to the tidal waves can bring peace to a restless mind but we never talked about the strength of waves and how they can ware down grounded rock to helpless grains of sand.

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Mar 30, 2015

Mar 30, 2015 at 8:21 PM UTC

tides

cover me in your bloodstained bed sheets that still smell like cigarettes and *** from the night she left mid-august press your ears against my chest listen to my heartbeat write a song to the rhythm of what keeps me grounded, but all of the lyrics are about her title it her name we always talk about the ocean and how listening to the tidal waves can bring peace to a restless mind but we never talked about the strength of waves and how they can ware down grounded rock to helpless grains of sand.

19

today, my English teacher explained that poetry is a way to express internal feelings externally and the sadness I felt in my mind in my heart could be spilled by accident sloppily on paper and still seen as a beautiful work of art but the happiness you make me feel, my mind cannot fathom words to script carefully in ink what you make me feel these butterflies can't escape from my stomach and land on paper the thought of loosing you cannot rip my skin apart to claw out of my body and tear my words to shreds please don't turn whatever we have into something I can write about

0

Sep 5, 2014

Sep 5, 2014 at 3:02 PM UTC

The Relation of Poetry and Him

today, my English teacher explained that poetry is a way to express internal feelings externally and the sadness I felt in my mind in my heart could be spilled by accident sloppily on paper and still seen as a beautiful work of art but the happiness you make me feel, my mind cannot fathom words to script carefully in ink what you make me feel these butterflies can't escape from my stomach and land on paper the thought of loosing you cannot rip my skin apart to claw out of my body and tear my words to shreds please don't turn whatever we have into something I can write about

19