I hold onto you so
tight
that my knuckles turn to
white
I cannot let go of you
of those
eyes
pulling me in like the
**dangerous
calming**
waves of the ocean
for the very reason that if I
let go
I
will
drown
you will not be there to
save me
you never have
you will watch as I
struggle to catch my breath
the lights will flicker and flare
you will stare as I fade away
choking out those three little three words
i love you
only to endure silence
echoing more
than any violence I have ever encountered
tearing me to pieces
as those treacherous eyes whispered to me
what your lips were
never quite brave enough to say
i
dont
love
you
anymore
.
Mar 1, 2018
Mar 1, 2018 at 8:59 PM UTC
I lied.
A long, long time ago you asked me what my favorite color was. When things were new and clean and easy. Still dancing around in the getting to know you stages. Some days I swear, years later, I am still just getting to know you. But that's besides the point. The point is I lied. You asked me what my favorite color was and I said red. Red is okay, I guess, but red? Plain red, Crayola red, the tin lunchbox your mother bought you for your first day of school red, isn't me.
I always liked blue. Blue anything. Ocean blue, not a cloud in the sky blue, so many clouds in the sky it's almost actually gray blue, the eye color I always wanted blue, favorite shirt blue, toilet bowl cleaner blue, internalized depression blue, art museum walls blue. Blue. I liked blue.
But here I am, saying to you without hesitation that my favorite color is red. And you say that yours is green. You're going on about how our favorite colors are Christmas colors and I am wondering when it was that I decided I needed to be someone other than myself around you.
Many years later, too many years, I am driving down Main Street with a parade of stop lights ahead of me. The colors are doing that thing when my eyes blur them out of focus. Red, green, green, red, red, green. To stop or to go. Part of me is thinking how fascinating it is that we have programmed our brains to subconsciously associate colors with actions and the bigger part of me is thinking about you. And somehow I find this is always the case with everything. As many times as we are next to each other in my line of vision we can never be together. I am talking about the stop lights but I am thinking about us. Green and red can never be on the same stop light at the same time. As soon as I leave, you show up. And it's got me thinking about how we were never really on the same page. How it's taken me this long to realize that no matter how badly either of us may have wanted it, we can never exist together.
Sep 29, 2016
Sep 29, 2016 at 3:19 PM UTC
and I don't think
lying on your best friends floor
at 9 in the morning
drunk as hell and higher than heaven
is what you want to tell your children
you were doing at age 15
but what they might not understand and
what you hope they may never seek for
is an escape that will drowns their sorrows
when everything gets too hard to even breathe
so I pack another bowl and take another shot
hoping it'll ease away my pain
but it only makes me numb
we're all siting on the floor
staring at walls and in the background
a song that breaks my heart plays
but all I hear is your name
"if you loved me, why'd you leave me"
my heart shatters to ******* pieces
each time those words are sung
from the lips of a beautiful soul
that reminds me of you, so I must choose this pain, right?
that must make it my fault, right?
that's what you'd always ******* say
and I wish you knew what you'd done to me
that those hateful words you spoke so effortlessly still keep me up at night
that a year and 6 months later
your laugh plays through my mind like a broken record
the White House with the bright red door
colorful walls but dark clouds surrounding us, I'm drowning in a sea of blue
lying on the ground with a jack daniels in hand
i'll walk over to the balcony
gaze down for a while
and I swear I can see your face in the pavement
each time I almost jump
but silly girl
you should know by now he'll never catch you when you fall
Aug 31, 2016
Aug 31, 2016 at 8:23 PM UTC
the thought of the words
*it's different with her...*
coming out your mouth
slipping off your tongue
with those very lips
that that used to
kiss mine
softly
makes me want to ******* *****
because all I ever wanted
was to be enough for
you
to hear you at my door
whisper the words
I'm sorry,
I love you,
forgive me,
*it's different this time*
*i
promise*
but it will never be that way with us
because I will never be enough
and you will never
come back
different.
May 11, 2016
May 11, 2016 at 8:40 PM UTC
ironic how
i love rain
and how it wipes away all my worries
its spring
which is around the time
flowers bloom and
you come back
and everything's okay
but you love fire
and how flames are wild
unpredictable, beautiful, exciting
I watch
from afar because
every time I get
close I try to put the fire out
but you always came back stronger
and now my heart is burnt
and the flowers are dead
and now the rain isn't falling
but my tears are falling quite rapidly
pouring, dropping, crying out
my thoughts and how I spent too long
trying to forget
you
and how no matter how many times we try
fire and rain don't mix
May 4, 2016
May 4, 2016 at 7:18 PM UTC
I kept catching myself staring at
you
in class today and
thinking
about the way you
kiss my neck and
how
I miss your lips
your laugh
and the
freckles
on your shoulders,
... please come back to me
Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 6:48 PM UTC
Usually it's okay until I come across an old picture
there aren't many of them now
mostly because in the midst of my great
breakdown I decided the best thing to do
was burn them all
as if the flames dancing across our smiling faces
could erase the pain I felt now
in the wake
of losing you
and take all of your lies with it
so let's go on pretending that it's over,
that we're done
you don't have to call and I won't expect you to
so let's go on pretending that I'm fine and you're fine and everything is just fine
let's
but it still happens
somehow an old photo finds its way into
my broken hands and at first I do
not even recognize the people
staring back at me
it's like a carnival mirror
your reflection moves against the glass
in synchrony with you
your smile is your smile and your arms
are your arms but
it doesn't look like you
so it's a little like that
your smile is my smile and my arms are wrapped around you
almost as if I knew
one day you would let me go
muscle memory
is a real *****
I remember the way your hair felt
as I ran my fingers through it
you hated it when I did that
I remember the nape of your neck
how it tasted
how you tasted
I remember your skin against my palms
how you were always hot and I was always cold and we told ourselves we were a perfect match
playing with fire is dangerous
love is dangerous
love
I remember making it
almost as vividly
as I remember you breaking
my heart
my tongue is numb,
my hands are numb,
I
am numb
so what
just get rid of it, they say
you've burned all the rest
I know
but no
I can't
I'm keeping it because I know you've pitched all of yours
that in your universe there is no longer a shred of evidence tying you to me
painting the picture
of us being in love
being happy
we used to be happy
and I think I owe
our past selves
that much
so I will continue to remember
continue to feel it all
because I know you've learned
to walk,
but I
can only crawl.
Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 9:50 PM UTC
This is who I hate. It's what I've done that makes me feel this way. It's your voice. it's your lips. It's in the way you stumble whispering I love you through kisses and trying to catch your breath. It's the 3 hour phone calls. It's the broken promises and memories. It's the way you held me. It's how you felt like home. and I've ate away the pain of you leaving and its left me 3 months later 20 pounds heavier and hating myself even more than I did before. it's hyperventilating at 9pm in my bedroom with anxiety throughout my whole body, Its my arms shaking, it's a weight on my chest, it's butterflies suffocating my throat. it's hysterically crying with a blade in one hand and pills in the other. it's the phone ringing the very second I go to drag the blade across my arm with your name popped up on the screen even though we haven't talked in months. you dialed my number because you simply felt as if something were wrong. It's my mind screaming it's a coincidence but hearts aching whispering love. I'm numb. The bottle of alcohol on the floor is empty and a cigarette I stole from my mom while sleeping is all burnt out. Burnt out like the words you wrote when we first met in the fires we'd gaze at for hours. Those beautiful flames have nothing on the colors of your eyes. Forever changing with how you feel in that exact moment.
It's the fact that I'll always love you. It's how your silence comforts me in ways none of my friends words even know how. It's the fact that none of my friends even notice or ask but you just knew. This is me unable to move on from what used to be. But this is not about you. I did this to myself, I destroyed myself day by day with all the dumb decisions I continue to make. Regret regret regret. This is me today, this is who I have become. This is who I hate. This is the girl cussing out a teacher. This is missing 47 days of school this year and failing 5 classes. This is ******** out friends and getting upset over stupid things. This is holding on to the past. This is becoming the person I swore I'd never be. This is who I hate. This is not me. But it's what I've let myself become. I hate the person staring back at he mirror. It's hating the person you see, because you don't recognize your own reflection.
This is to my soul, my heart, my mind. I want to be free, this is why I want to be in the stars.
Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 9:44 PM UTC
I was getting bad again, but it wasn’t like anyone noticed. Some days I wasn’t sleeping, or even worse I started to sleep too much. This horrible nightmare was destroying me inside and out. Some days I wasn’t eating, or even worse I started eating too much. I was smoking to numb the pain, spilling sober thoughts into a blank page. Intoxicated with the madness I do not even understand. Weeks later to find, wanting to know if I was out of my mind because I could not seem to remember writing a **** thing. It was like looking into a strangers mind to find yourself staring back at you in a vanity mirror. This is because I would get so high I could think so clearly, write down these thoughts I never had words to explain. I tried so hard to forget my thoughts, my feelings, the pain. It never truly worked. Only for a little while. Thoughts of a blade going across my wrist and Crimson oozing down my arm seemed to appear more often than not. Yes I am clean, but that does not mean I don’t miss it. That does not mean the thought does not itch the back of my mind every breathing second. I would sit in class shaking, crying, heart throbbing. . Over memories and things I wish I could change, things I never had control over to begin with. I was unable to control my emotions, I was drowning in sorrows that I should’ve overcome by now. I was giving so much power to my pain, too much control to those who weren’t deserving. Giving too much power to the past and denying any strength I had. I was killing myself slowly in the sadness I was enduring, allowing myself to suffocate in night terrors I mistook as dreams. But then things started to change,
once we started speaking again. I started wanting to love myself, I’ve become obsessed with the idea to be the type of person, that a person like you would fall in love with. I find myself smiling at the thought of your laugh and sweet things you have told me. Heart smiling for the first time in years as my eyes slowly close as I listen to the sound of you playing your guitar. The sound of you playing comforts me in ways I’ve never been touched before. For the first time in a long time I felt safe and free at once. “I could fall asleep to this every night” I kept thinking. I kept thinking about you, so far I have not stopped. I keep thinking about how much I want this. Every song has become about you. One look at you and butterflies erupt in my stomach and make my heart jump beats. I wake up each day wanting to push through so I can see you, while it used to take everything in me to get out of bed. You’re making me feel things I didn’t know I was still capable of feeling. It’s been so long since I have felt anything near the way I’m feeling in this very moment. I never thought I could fall so deep for someone like this again, but here I am. ****** off my *** thinking about you. Only you. This is a moment. This is the moment. This is the moment it finally hits me. I am in love with you. I am terrified as hell, but here I am.
Falling for you anyways.
Jan 27, 2016
Jan 27, 2016 at 11:35 PM UTC
It's a place not many like to visit because of the feeling it gives. The feeling I so often learn to forget, until I am face to face with the tomb of the one I miss the most. The sky appears to be dark; even when the sun is shining and the birds are chirping, I only feel the darkness that lingers around me. I walk down several paths with suspense of what is going to strike my mind when I am reminded of the absence of him. I hear the cars passing by, but my thoughts are much louder than the noise of the cars, the birds, or the sound of the leaves crumbling beneath me as I lay beside him. But he is much farther down. He is 6 feet under, yet I can still hear the sound of his voice on my 9th birthday replaying over and over inside my head saying, "Mya happy birthday baby, I love you very much." As I stare at the steelers sign that is carved into the stone beside me, I closely hold onto the necklace he gave to me as the tears start to fall down my face and onto the nearly cut grass. The grass reeks of the Earth being alive, healthy, and well- unlike the curse of cancer that left my father weak. My mouth goes dry, but I can almost taste the air that leaves me with a lump in my throat. It taste like sadness, but the feeling is much more power when the thought of those around me try comforting me, that is until I realize that I am alone. I can smell the flowers that lay all around, and for a few seconds I remember the rose bush that sat right in front of his front porch. The same front porch I left a bright red nail polish stain on, and in that moment I can smell it and hear his voice yelling, but it only becomes comforting. Everything hits me at once as I try chocking out some words, and I speak of my life and how deeply I wish he were here. As I slowly walk away from the tomb he was buried under almost 7 years ago, I whisper one last thing. "I love you to the stars and back, but I think I miss you more."
Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 11:35 PM UTC