Days like these are the ones
where I am reminded
of just how human I am;
how fragile and vulnerable,
how soft and easily bruised.
And I tend to scar easier than others.
Just check the shallow scratches on my skin
that linger for weeks,
the marks on my ankles from old new shoes,
and anxiety from instances
years ago.
Trying to remind myself that
these times pass
(they always do),
but I just remember that
one day
I'll be ten feet under
the ground that I walk on
while I'm trying to forget.
Days like these remind me
of how real I am,
and I try to lock them into infinity
on sheets of paper with a pen
so I can live forever.
Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 10:52 AM UTC
I spend so much time
wrapped up in thoughts of
what things are like in the real world,
that I forget that I am in it;
a living, breathing string
woven into the intricate fabric of today.
I have a reason & a purpose,
and each breath I take
is a step towards finding them.
Every moment of my life
is a part of my purpose.
I'd like to believe that me finding it
is a part of it.
But if it isn't,
what have I wasted?
Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 10:48 AM UTC
I'm starting to feel lonely
In my bones when I walk,
Like the aching you get
In the middle of winter.
The space in my chest
Is swelling in size,
Growing larger as it waits
For something extraordinary.
Because why else would I wait?
Starting year four
Of being alone again,
If it wasn't to move on to something life-altering?
My heart won't wait
For anything it doesn't need.
Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 1:16 AM UTC
She pushes for me to live,
and she always has.
But it's hard to try and live
for someone who can't do it themselves,
and she doesn't want to.
Wrapping her lips around the filter end;
inhale,
exhale
cough cough
Oh how wonderful it is
to die.
And it's all I've ever known!
all I've ever seen,
but somehow, it is better
to end your life slowly
instead of all in one go.
I guess it's because
no one notices
when you slowly fade out,
but a whole bottle of Nyquil gone,
two lines on your wrists gashed--
it's too sudden.
Too much for your loved ones to handle.
But what about me?!
Watching the one who gave me life
take away her own without a second thought.
It makes you wonder about life's worth.
It made me wonder about mine
when the woman who made me
just threw hers away.
I really thought that suicide was the answer after a while,
because my mother could do it.
"But she's here, still alive."
But is she?
Am I?
She decided to **** herself when she was a teen,
and so did I,
but I backed out.
And she's been killing herself
for decades.
Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 2:34 PM UTC
I want to set someone's soul on fire
to be their first wondering in the morning
and their last thought before they fall asleep.
I want to be someone's 11:11 wish
or their dream on a shooting star.
I want to be someone's everything,
instead of the mid-way nothing that I'm used to.
I want to be the one thing they're afraid of losing
that they can't imagine their life without,
and I want to be their last first kiss.
I want to count the galaxies in their eyes while we lay together,
to start counting their stars but lose track because there are too many.
I want to sing their favorite song while we kiss
and trace our favorite words on their back;
I want to make them come alive.
Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 7:38 PM UTC
i am not a book
that you can read partway,
set down
for however long you choose
and come back to the story
right where you left off.
i am not a photograph
that you can put in a book,
store on a shelf
until you remember that it’s there
and relive the partly faded
memory from before.
i am not a cup of coffee
that you can forget about in the morning,
leave on the table
until you’re done ******* your wife
and stick in the microwave
to heat back up.
i am a woman
that you can wake up and touch,
you can love
until it all falls to dust
because i’m all or nothing,
so pick a side.
Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 12:27 AM UTC
are you for real?
why would you do this to yourself?
he’s not even real,
at least not that you know.
all he is is a combination
of letters and numbers,
zeros and ones
that you haven’t seen in the flesh.
but he likes you,
and nobody else does,
so why wouldn’t you jump at the chance?
because you’re lonely
and so is he
and he says that you’re
the most beautiful thing
he’s ever seen,
and no one has ever said that to you
in your entire life.
Aug 23, 2014
Aug 23, 2014 at 4:35 PM UTC
I never understood why people compared
kisses to fireworks
until i knew what it was like
to want someone so much
that all you could feel inside you
were explosions.
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 12:13 AM UTC
We come from the same gene pool,
but don't you dare tell me
that we can wear the same jeans,
because you couldn't hold them up.
You wouldn't be able to keep them in place,
to hoist up the weight of the world
that makes them so heavy.
Your size zero waist and thighs
couldn't handle the pressure,
couldn't handle the qualities
of life size pants.
Not 12 size pants.
Life size pants.
My whole life fits into the stretched out fabric,
the too tight button,
the zipper that struggles to crawl up its track.
These pants have seen days where I could slide in
and days where the squeeze was so tight
that I just gave up,
even when giving up shouldn't have been an option.
Holes have been torn,
rips have been stretched,
and yours have been fashioned to look that way.
Do not pretend that we could switch jeans
and be perfectly fine,
because you would be swimming,
and I would be missing.
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 10:50 AM UTC
Raindrops
Tap tap tapping
On the windowsill
Reminding me of
You letting me go.
Fresh sheets
Crinkling up and
Swallowing me whole
Sounding like the
Day you forgot about me.
New perfume
Engulfing me and
Surrounding my breath
Smelling like the
Night you kissed me and left.
Oldsmobile,
Driving around,
Scaring me to death
Looking like the
Hours that we wasted.
And we wasted
Aimlessly,
We kissed
Pointlessly,
Forgot
Regrettably,
And let go
Finally.
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 12:32 AM UTC