No. Stop. Please. Don’t call me nice or strong or admirable. Because I’m not. I smile and laugh when you joke and tease me, but on the inside it hurts and shakes up my self esteem. You call me strong but that’s while you ignore the silent tears rolling down my cheeks. Admirable? Only because I know how ****** it feels to be on the receiving end if I were to act and speak the way my mind wanted to. I try to sit pretty, laugh and give witty comebacks, but I keep having to bite my lip and blink rapidly up at the ceiling so the tears don’t flood out. But do you see that? No. Because you’re scared of my breaking down. You don’t know how to react when someone who comes off as sturdy and laid back as I do falls apart. That’s how everyone reacts when I get shaken. They pretend not to see. People say whatever they wish to my face because they think I can take it and not be hurt by it. But it does hurt. Especially when you say bad things about people I love, especially when I’m already hurting over them. I wish people would just once watch my face when they decide to say those things about my family, friends or me. I wish people would just once see the pain that quivers in my eyes, or the tightening jaw and bleeding lips. I wish just once..someone would stop mid-sentence when they see me shaken, and just pull me in for a hug.
Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 11:11 PM UTC
after love,
we change.
the confessed love: lies.
the promised future: lies.
but those aren’t lies
once we take off our shades
and look with clear-sighted eyes.
the love was true
and future clear;
there really was no flaw.
but things did go wrong
and love did fail,
and the hatred, too is real.
it would be an easy,
simple task to hate
had love been lies.
but it wasn’t;
confessions of love
and scowls of hate
were all there -
and all were true.
Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 10:49 PM UTC
I was scared of the dark
and the monsters within.
I was scared of what would get me
when it was time to turn in.
I never liked to go outside
anytime past sunset;
why? It was dark out there
monsters everywhere, I’d bet.
But now I realize,
now I know
the monsters I fear -
outside, they won’t show
their faces, their grins
or their wrinkly, clawed toes.
Deep inside me they reside -
my fears and my foes.
Now with my insides
darker than night,
Night doesn’t make me fearful -
It doesn’t give me fright.
Twilight seems delightful,
almost broad as daylight.
So now, dear darling,
here’s my plight:
I can no longer have you by my side -
for my inner demons will bite.
Jan 10, 2013
Jan 10, 2013 at 7:45 PM UTC
Y’know, when your thoughts are as dark as mine –
The night isn’t as scary
nor the monsters so creepy.
You become the scary night
and the monsters children fear.
You’re the ugly, crooked criminal
held back from all that you hold dear.
The night, to you, becomes bright
and all the nocturnal fright
will be your cause
and your plight.
Jan 10, 2013
Jan 10, 2013 at 7:40 PM UTC
hush, little darling,
hush those deadly thoughts.
don’t let that blade taste blood;
I warn you, it gets addicted.
breathe – in and out, love –
don’t forget that one small chore;
or you’ll get caught up
in dark, dreadful thoughts
and drown away for sure.
be careful, dear, think clear.
one rash choice will
**** a life many hold dear;
you’ll never know
which hands you would have held,
which hearts would have helped
you through it all.
you’ll make it through, darling,
I promise you – I do.
Jan 5, 2013
Jan 5, 2013 at 1:09 AM UTC
Maybe it’s because
it’s the end of the year
and we’re on the brink
of starting anew.
Maybe it’s because
this winter is exceptionally cold
and your hand’s not here
to warm mine up.
Maybe it’s because
I’m not proud of
the things I’ve done
and the ones who can forgive me
are already too far gone.
Maybe it’s because
the good memories,
come and gone,
are here no more
and this winter looks so bleak.
Maybe it’s because
nothing’s wrong, really -
it’s just my expectations
in my messed up little mind -
maybe it’s just me.
Jan 2, 2013
Jan 2, 2013 at 10:27 PM UTC
"Make yourself at home," I said.
and as I said, you did.
You made me home -
haven to you,
and your home, I did become.
You brought me life,
I gave you rest.
You provided excitement,
and found comfort in me.
I was your home,
and you, my resident
until the circumstances changed.
You up-and-outted;
moved right out
and left me here, behind.
Leaving unwanted objects -
useless things -
and a restless state of mind.
You left to choose a different home,
greater than my kind;
and left me here
with a sign: FOR SALE
empty and abandoned.
Dec 30, 2012
Dec 30, 2012 at 3:37 AM UTC
Here, I'll write you a letter,
all sweet and cliché,
folded in an envelope
and sealed with a kiss.
I'll tell you all about my self
and ask, with interest, of yours;
each thought and idea illustrated
with my doodles and notes.
I'll speak of fields with grasses green
and sparkling stars up high
that we could lay in and marvel at
if we were to fall in love.
I'll write down my daydreams
of a small apartment with you -
one pet, two kids,
you and I, aging together.
I'll put in a love poem,
with unique combinations
of twenty-six letters and more
to promise my eternity to you.
But at the end of the letter,
maybe you'll come to see
that I signed no name
nor written an address.
So there, that is the end
to our short love affair;
we'll leave it to one letter
to keep the perfection forever.
The daydream I created for us
in that one paper, front and back,
will remain our tiny little secret
and our perfect little world.
Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 5:13 PM UTC
My collection of memories
mostly alone with you,
though so frequently opened,
never loses value.
But what I've noticed recently
of this album I hold dear
is that so much has been changing
now that you're not here.
Each time the cover's opened,
each time I feast my eyes,
something gets distorted
and one small detail dies.
I'm losing real reality,
and replacing it with my own -
it's frightening how much
my imagination's grown.
Our fights and anger
have been erased
to where only joy remains
to tell your grace.
My faults are highlighted,
more guilt inscribed
to my mistakes, and your
forgiveness of my lies.
You're ideal now, and perfect;
almost to where I can't
picture or reason as to how
you allowed me, with you, to stand.
Now you're just my celebrity,
someone to whom I can only be a fan;
I cannot ask you to stay by my side -
nor can I reach out to grab your hand.
So here's my fan letter to you
and my farewell;
though you will never read this,
nor of its receiver's name will I tell.
Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 1:06 PM UTC
Your arm starts loosely
draped on my shoulders;
your hands travel
down my back.
Your fingers explore
the bottom seams of my shirt,
and I jump when their cold
discovers my skin.
Your long, thin explorers
leave icy trails up my back
as they pull me to you, closer.
One kiss slurs to another,
muffling my sobriety,
making me drunk -
and the night steals away
my conscience.
Memory fails me
once light seeps in,
and all that's left
is my self-pity.
I hate myself for falling again,
but despise myself more
for knowing -
every time you come around,
I will eagerly follow.
Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 12:09 PM UTC