i used to wanna be the sun
casting shadows on the wall
dancing between the leaves
but lately i have found myself wondering
how it would feel to be the warm glow escaping from the lamp in your bedroom
the lamp that lights your room just enough to read your favourite books
the one that as a child, kept you safe from the monster under your bed
and the one that now keeps you safe from the monsters in your head
i want to know how it feels to be the lamp that greets you every morning
the first thing you turn to when you wake up
when your nights get to dark i want to be the light you rely on to get you through the night
i want to be the lamp you bring to college
that sits in your living room in your first house
because you're 23 and you can't afford new furniture
i wanna be the lamp in your first child's bedroom
and the second child
and possibly the third
i wanna be the lamp in your last house
that sits in your attic collecting dust
the lamp that doesn't work anymore but you don't have the heart to throw away
i used to want to be the sun
but lately i have found myself wondering how it would feel to be the warm glow escaping from the lamp in your bedroom
Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 6:45 PM UTC
asleep
closed eyes; darkness and depth emerge
slowly my bitter mind is drained
thoughts seeping out of my body
splattering
through the room
thoughts of,
beauty
broken locks
letters
lights
oceans
and then nothing
nothing?
nothing is the absen-
ce of something
nothing in itself cannot
exist,
the idea of nothing exists,
an illusion...
an illusion is when I am with her,
it tastes of acidic tears
they are
cold
in my suitcase with the rest of my
illusions it lies...
in the ground
dead.
my suitcase is dead
uninhabited, lifeless, barren.
it is death grinding
a copper fence full of lies.
i think i am that copper fence
no
i know
i am
that
copper fence
i am nowhere
i am..
asleep
Sep 27, 2015
Sep 27, 2015 at 7:15 PM UTC
i wish we spoke more
so that i could talk to you about how last night
i was drunk in a cab
crying again
but this time i was not afraid
nor embarrassed
it was beautiful
it was slow moving
just like how things used to be
when i was getting to know you
but getting out of the cab
was like waking from a dream
a bad dream
one where i was aching
aching to be touched
by you
but now your fingers down my pants
feel like fingers down my throat
and how when you're next to me
you never feel next to me
there's this painful distance between us
i bet you can feel it too
i think telling someone you miss them
is really just a way of asking them to
come back
Sep 17, 2015
Sep 17, 2015 at 1:02 PM UTC
this morning i have decided this will be the last thing i will ever write about you,
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 7:20 AM UTC
i think a part of me will
always love being six years old—
love being tiny, unassuming, cold
in my reactions, bowled
over by my peers, told
to be bigger, brighter, better.
i am largely the same now—
but i am no longer six.
no one tells me to
become any bigger
or brighter or better,
being small means being
crushed, and if i am
overlooked, no one cares.
if i were six, this
would sadden me.
but i am no longer six,
i no longer care,
and i am alone in my
acquired apathy.
Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 2:14 AM UTC
hello, i am a
writer, i am happy.
look at me smile.
look at me,
look at me—
no it’s not, you
dumb **** shut up,
you’re worthless,
you’re worthless,
you think you can be happy—
i am sad sometimes.
all the time—
half the time—
my lifetime—
where is the lie?
i am.
i am.
okay, i’ll be fine,
it’s fine,
okay, okay?
okay. yes, yes,
yesyesyes
look at me, i am
worthless stupid
******* amazing*
shut up and look,
look at me don’t,
*i don’t care i
don’t care i don’t
love you* yes i do
i don’t care ***of course
it’s all i think about***
stop stop stop,
don’t look at me,
i am too great,
too great, look,
look, i am on top,
the world is mine—
only in my head
only in my head
only in my head
shut up, shut up,
be quiet, i am tired!
leave me alone.
i don’t want to be alone.
help me be alone,
go away,
please.
please.
please.
please.
[…I don’t know what you mean.]
“I’m sorry, it’s nothing.”
where is the lie?
Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 1:54 AM UTC
it is
raining again
remember when we were kids
we would stare outside the window
look for the pitter patter
we would leave foggy hand
prints on the glass
we would sing rain rain go away
teacher told us to.
clouds,
so discontent with thunder an-
d lightning.
always fighting
with each other
with anything
lots of yelling
lots of screaming
poor
grey clouds
cant hold the blue sky anymore.
down comes the rain,
sad clouds,
lots of rain.
thunder and lighting
get mad
boom
sky lights up with twenty million volts of resentment
that was a story
my mom told me when i was a little kid
who knew it was non-fiction
non-fiction to say the least
it was a reflection
a reflection of my parents
and why they don't love each other anymore
twenty million volts of resentment
on my
mothers
face
she says it was
an accident
it's fine
i am not a kid anymore
i know it isn't
fine
and
i dont sing
rain rain go
away
I
because you are never here to sing it with me
and
II
because i've learned that the rain has to pour before it doesn't,
so just
let it
*******
pour
its pouring all the time, and even when its not it still is
and you may not see it
and maybe no one can
but i see it
its constant.
i have
really grown to
love
the rain
Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 1:44 AM UTC
regret
regret is the entity that only wanted my body
my body; my body; my body
once a battlefield
oh the enmity that still lingers in my bloodstream
i had learned to love that battlefield
i planted flowers on my scars and pretended i had never known the definition of pain
when i met regret he had on the most beautiful mask
it was made of crimson skies and caramel clouds
he called himself infatuation
and slowly without knowing; i let him de-root my flowers and pick at the scabs of my healing wounds
for the longest time i called the numbing pain in my mind my fault
because how could infatuation harm me, he was beautiful
beautiful things are the cause of happiness,
he made me happy,
i think
,,,it was not the crimson skies and caramel clouds that derailed my mind for the last time
it was an unexpected storm,
it never stopped ******* raining,
his name was,
regret
Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 12:12 AM UTC