She said, "Usually in my experience, Jon isn't ******* fine."

And then I realized,
I wasn't okay yet after all

"I'm happy for you."
But I'm not.

Okay, maybe that's not really true.
I'm happy you can wake up each morning
Warm, not alone, safe,
Smiling.
I'm glad that you have someone to go home to,
Someone to sit beside at the bar,
Someone to get brunch with,
Someone to go vegan for,
But I'm not happy it's her.

Something in the way she looks at me
And what she says about me when drunk
Something about her fake glasses
And her fake hair,
And, apparently, her fake smile,
Makes me worry about you,
About our friendship.

When the time comes,
When she asks you to choose,
What's going to happen then?

Fate can go **** itself.
Here is my mountaintop
These are my curses to the stars
Tear at my clothes,
Scorch my flesh
Plead with the moon
Then nothing
Not even a ripple in the black
Destiny has spurned me here.


If this is what's in store for me,
I ******* give up
Since when has love not been enough?

Something about this city,
Like amnesia,
You forget me here.

This is me,
Looking for you in a dimly lit bar
Only to find you
Forehead pressed to another nameless girl.
This is what love looks like to me.
To aid and abet,
To give you the freedom you crave
Which does not come with the restraints of commitment.

This is what love looks like to me.
Giving all that I possibly can
And trying not to take too much from you.
Letting you do and say what you like
Being your accomplice, your friend
And never judging you.

But you make it so difficult sometimes.
When you say that you'll look for me,
But instead you're dancing with another.
When you say you're excited to be with me,
Then you sleep next to someone else.
When you tell me you'd do anything for me,
But then you forget me and our plans
At the earliest convenience.

I love you.
I would and do give everything I can to you.
But this act, these consequences,
Your point of view.
It all has me skewed. Diluted. Drained.
Done.

And I'm not sure really where to go from here.

I am worthless.
Useless.
A failure.
All attempts turn to tar in my hands.
Frustration builds up behind my dam of calm
One more self-loathing thought delivers that defining, final crack
And all composure crumbles.
I hold my breath yet I can't stop the heavy breathing
Anger
All directed at myself
Leaking out of every pore
Every fiber burns
Destroying me
Turning me to ash, waste.
Because that's what I am.

A failure.
Useless, good for nothing.
Lazy, prideful
And worthless to the last drop.
I drop everything I touch before I destroy it
And it destroys me.

Failure is the hardest emotional hurdle to overcome.
It means the end of the adventure,
And worse,
That this particular end is your fault.

Failure means a creased brow, fidgety fingers, and knotted stomach
It means confrontation
And admission of guilt.
Failure means you didn't succeed.

When failure sneaks up on me at night,
Seeps into the skin on my back,
And wraps its slimy hands around my rib cage
When I'm in its vice grip
And I can't breathe
Will you give me CPR?

I never should have let it go
That far
Even now, I can still feel
The aftershocks of your choices.

All your life
has been clinging
to this cliff edge.
You spent years taunting
the growling waters below.
Not even the storms --
in all their fury --
Could pry you from your rock.
          Rooted Conqueror, you were.

But now the time has come
for you to reach up, up, up.
Stretching your heart up
into the celestial bodies.

Defying the constant wind,
You flower.
For the first, only time
In your life
You show the world
Your beauty, inside
That at your center,
Blooms of sunlight
were just waiting to burst.

And burst they do,
Tall as the trees,
And your brave, defiant spirit
Is Released.

Leaving your body behind to brown and wither
       Empty now.
That resilient spirit gone.
The carcass and its roots
Fall into the roaring sea.

I have abused you, my muse.
Strapped you to the table
And splayed open your flesh for all to see.
It was there,
On your rib bones
That I painted my narrative.

I pricked organs to spill secrets,
Sliced skin and watched it fester
And in the bloodbath,
Called it art.

I dared to challenge your choices
While I was the one who'd strapped you down.
I have abused you, my muse.
And it stops here.

Fear** is the thorn bush
Seeking refuge in my left ventricle
Stealing all the oxygen from the rest of my body
Keeping me immobile for fright of suffocation
Feeding my brain with insecurity
And self depreciation.

Saying things like
He doesn't really want you back.
You don't really mean that much.
You're an embarrassment.
You're too demanding.
You're too broken to fix.
And who would want to help with repairs anyways,
You charity case?

So you see,
There really is no escaping this
Without injesting herbicide
Or ripping my heart out.

With every sunset
I can see more clearly
That I was the one holding the rope
I was the one stealing your air

I am the reason I'm alone.
But I'm not the only one.

Two broken things don't make a whole.

I don't have to fall asleep with the TV on anymore.
The sullen silence waiting in the click of a light switch
Doesn't intimidate my eyelids anymore.
I don't stare at the glow in the dark stars
Placed on my ceiling long before I was ever an occupant.
Their soft green glow isn't necessary to still my uncertainties.
When I close my eyes,
I smile when the still-frame of your face arrives
I can wiggle my toes and cling to my blankets a little tighter
Wishing, longing it was you in my arms.

No more holding back my love for you
With the dam of Bee Arthur's and Betty White's voices.
No more counting the number of breaths until I fall asleep.
No more,
Because somewhere outside my cheap mini-blinds,
Under the same moon and stars
There you are, living a life where you love me, too.

i am afraid
that my nervous energy
and my accustomedness to lack of sleep
will soon drag you down with me
into my depression-well
where i like to drown myself
when i do and don't deserve it

and i am afraid
that you will soon tire of my antics
my fears and my sloth
and i will force you to do what you fear:
hurt me
i'll deserve every pinch of every nerve
when you leave my bed cold

and the waters will come
as they always do
faithful as my self-loathing
and i will drown in the absence you'll leave

but you'll be better off, Love.

Leaving me be,
Air finally reaches my lungs.
No more waiting and wondering
Where you’ve been or where you’re going.
With newfound air in these tired lungs
I can out run those long-clinging fears.
Your name is no longer engraved
On the vice clamping my heart shut.

Hope for new love, new adventures,
Has melted the lock on the door,
And I’m tripping over untied shoelaces
In my haste to escape the prison that was my life.

Farewell, black and white.
Here comes the sun.

You're going to be just fine
You've suffered greater losses
Than the likes of me.
Hell, you suffered for me.
It's only fair that I relinquish any hold on you
Set you free from the charcoal chamber of my heart.
I can feel the grates cracking beneath your clenched hands

Run.
Run from here before I devour your light.

Seek the daytime,
Embrace the sunshine, my friend.
No more rainy days
Here comes the sun.
Just for you.

I held it
That cactus of a beating heart
And I thought it was an honor
Thought the cuts in my palms meant something
Marked me as worthy
And the blood running down my wrists to my elbows
Sealed this bond like blood-brothers.
The tears shed when the needles dug deep
Meant I was chosen
I was special because no matter how much it hurt,
I could still hold on.
Reliable, dedicated, adoring, lasting
Loving.
And when others wanted their turn,
I'd surrender over my treasure
Sometimes ginger, sometimes impatiently forceful,
They would take their turn with you.
But they weren't interested in pricking their fingers,
Or shedding tears over you,
So you'd come back.
And in my slashed, stabbed, scarred hands
With needles still stuck in my skin,
I would cradle you.
Pull you up to my chest and breathe in hope,
Only to sink your spines in deeper
Anchored to me.

I thought the pain was worth it
Thought no one could hold you like I could
Told you I'd wait for you to shed those ****** and spines
Wait for my hands, my chest, to be enough.

But you, cowardly heart that you are,
Will never shed those spikes for me,
Trade protection for vulnerability,
For love.
Nor will you stop from wrenching yourself from my fingertips,
Give up the thrill of a new conquest,
The satisfaction of new blood drawn.

And if it's true,
If it was all a lie,
A ruse to buy you more time, more blood,
And if my hands are not feeding me insecurities again,
Then maybe it's time I put you down
And wash my hands.

Feels like returning to the scene of a crime
The walls have seen horrors,
Lies unspeakable
It's like their laughing at me, in their stoic, white silence.
And that bed,
She's flat out staring me down.
There she lies,
Like a naked *******,
Daring me to call her shame.

But I cannot.
Instead I turn my back,
And jot down a few lines.

Now to put on that brave face.

Two years ago today,
"Do you want me to be?"

Like the meteorites we flock to the fields to gaze upon,
I don't want to burn out.
But how do you stop the source from getting eaten away
When the fire's already hot and bright?

Some things are better left unsaid.
Some secrets are better left untold.

It's the nasty, sticky, slimey truths that we bury
That come at us like serpents with our names on their tongues
The ones that reveal the true character of those we love
The ones that make our beloveds ugly in our eyes

What have we done?
Are there any bridges left that we haven't burned?
What have you done, love?

What Have You Done?

Life at the bottom of a poisoned well
Can be soothing sometimes
The dim weight,
All that water
Makes for a comforting blanket.
No sudden movements,
No loud noises to shake me.

But there are days
Days like today when all I want is a breath
A gasp of that green breeze
Warm with sunlight
So my lungs can finally feel full again.

There's no fighting that water though
And even if I could,
There's not enough strength left in these withered limbs
To break through the shimmering glass above

So I lay here.

Life at the bottom of a poisoned well
Can be soothing sometimes.

This is me
With my hands over my ears
Eyes squeezed shut
Humming sweet lalalalalalalullabys to myself
Rocking back and forth
In the fetal position.

This is me falling asleep with the TV on
This is me hoping it's just a nightmare I'll wake up from
This is me holding out for a hopeless cause
This is me on a bad day

Thank any god that's out there
It's my first bad day in weeks.

Keep drinking from that tap
Even when you grow wreak
Return still to take another gulp
Make yourself sick from it
But keep going back

Until it ******* kills you.

Looking at you
I know
Broken things are still beautiful

You're going to forget me this fall.

But I'll remember.

You are heaven-sent
Yet you always seem to forget.
Born in pain and agony,
Brought screaming into this world with regret.
And yet
You chose to let that define your life.

Blocking every shot that comes your way,
Until your find yourself at the bottom
Drowning like all your fake friends.
But it takes spine and guts to face yourself
To take action and change.

Will you brave those waters through still and storm?
Will you be more than just a verse in a song?

It is one thing to hear about
Beethoven,
And learn about his diminishing hearing.

It's another thing
Entirely
To meet him.
And he knows it's coming.

19 years old and counting
Down the years until
He can no longer hear pitch,
Tone, or the correct notes.

A singer, music enthusiast, and beauty,
Who will some day

lose the music to deaf ears

Everything is muffled,
Like an invisible cotton ball
Stuffing city streets with silence
Car horns don't jar our attentions,
Sirens whistle, not shriek
Passing couples yell to be heard
But there is nothing drowning them out.

This is the calm before the storm,
The void that opens up in the atmosphere
In the moments before the fury drop.
In this quiet,
The whispering gong of silence is deafening.

Then the lightning strikes
And thunder reminds us what it is to hear

Remember a few months back
Where I dropped the first shoe?
When I came stumbling into your life on a whim,
A simple message sent
A vague curiosity.

Now, before we hash out where I went wrong since then
Before we map out just where I lost your interest
Before you tell me that I'm "just a friend"
Before you tell me you've moved on
Before all of that

You once asked me
Why.
Said you were waiting for that other shoe to drop.
Waiting for the reason behind my curiosity
And conversation.
Waiting for the not so pleasant end to my interest.

But let me tell you something, handsome.
The moment you responded,
The very instant you turned your head
I was scared.
That first night
When you walked instead of slept,
When you shared stories and warmth in the rain,
When you leaned forward, cross-legged on the floor
And kissed me,
I was terrified.
How could I, the girl trying to be a woman,
Controlled and bullied by her fears,
Ever
Ever come to deserve the affection of a man like yourself.

I knew then as I know now,
Though I tried for those 3 months to forget,
That I cannot be worthy of affection
From a man who can love so intricately as you.

You are beautiful,
and I was frightened before I was even yours,
That the day would come when I would lose the treasure of your inclination.

And I have.
And now there is nothing to do,
But wait for you
To drop the other shoe.

my stomach drops at the sight.
who knew the eyes had such control over the body?
lungs frozen,
heart burning a hole through my sternum,
hands trembling.
hearing the story in pictures with no words
no commentary, no explanation
only Silence, only Assumptions.
your easy smile, given so freely
scares me into a corner where jealousy and doubt meet
fear threatens to asphyxiate me as i try to choke it back down
transfixing, magnetizing, beautiful, in ways that are only yours
i know others can see even if you cannot
and they will want you, as i want you.
and as i've said before,
one day you will tire of me
tire of my fear, my sloth, my sadness, and my emptiness
and she will be more of what you want.
she'll like the same things, have the same goals, be just as passionate as you, and share your love for debate.
she'll be better for you.
and until this happens,
i will fear its arrival with every posted picture.

Slate, black and still.
It's for your protection
Imitate slate, cold, impersonal rock.
Don't let it show

The turmoil and chaos reining inside
The frantic thoughts,
The panicked breathing
Be still as glass on the surface
Like a rip tide, undetectable.

Take a deep breath,
And pretend.



                 I can't live like this anymore.

Desperately searching for that gold,
The treasure beneath the surface
Chiseling away with nothing but bare hands
Ripped and torn from the climb to get here
Making patterns like paintings in the rock face
But my blood means nothing
Blood cannot claim a mountain
But being the first to find his treasure can
So I dig, pry, and chisel
Slicing away at fingertips
Leaving paintings like sacrifices behind

Desperate, I slam my hands into the surface
If the mountain will not be mine
I will be his
Strength, anger, sadness, frustration,
and love
Smash into his surface.

My hands may be gone,
But the mountain,
The mountain bleeds back.

And then I realized
Maybe you aren't worth the pain.

My hands feel empty
Barren, like they should be holding something
And my chest,
Hollow and heavy at the same time
Breaths like whispers, delicate.

I am fragile,
My own glass menagerie
Touch me,
And I'll shatter for you

Catch me, I'm falling.

Was there ever a time
When fear and neurosis
Didn't slam dance their way out
Of the birdcage between my armpits?

When did my ears not ring with tinnitus
Lines on repeat like
"They don't care."
And
"You're worthless."

When did I stop treading water?
When did I start using loved ones as life rafts,
Shoving them beneath the surface
If only for one quick gasp of air?

When did the sadness get so immense,
It formed its own gravitational pull?
Like a black hole in space,
******* in all the surroundings.

When did I stop feeling like enough?

Like the moment a meteor earns its "-ite,"
Epiphany has struck and leaves a trail of realization.

All that remains
Is the decision to make things right.

I will keep writing until it stops hurting.

Even if it's just rewriting our conversations in my head

Over and over


And over

I can feel the warmth,
So close I can taste your sunlight
But in truth,
You're millions of miles away.

I could lay there
Soaking in your heat
Breathing in your electric energy
Until I ******* burn
But it won't bring us any closer

Like moons and suns and planets,
Wandering aimlessly in space
Searching down familiar paths
Looking for an answer.

And just like those celestial bodies,
We'll never truely touch
But I can still feel your warmth.

No one will believe this story written on my chest.
Hell, I don’t believe it myself.
How can I believe it when it’s so hard to read,
So hard to read because I’m **missing my ribs.

It burns my lungs as it goes down.
breathe in
Living in sweet denial is just that: sweet.
But every dream,
No matter how sweet,
Must come to its inevitable demise.
exhale
God, but it burns.

Wake up
Wake up!

It's over.
Your dream is dead.

You were always better at love poems
Which is truly a tragedy
Because now who will write you the eloquence you deserve?
There is something terribly fitting, and yet sad,
That when I think of how to write for you,
"Your Song" immediately comes to mind.
However, unfortunate for you, it's also true.
If I had anything better to express these wavelengths vibrating in my chest,
I would do it, to show you the depth, volume, mass of my affection
For the way you hair only knows how to grow up,
For your hobbit-like, animated toes,
For hands so perfect, Michelangelo couldn't have done it better,
For the ever-shifting newness of your irises;
But as previously lamented,
I have nothing but words.

Even more unfortunate for you, love
I was always more of a math brain.
Ah! If only there was a formula,
One where x equals the buzzing in my knee caps when you're standing close enough to touch,
And y equals the deepest secret that cummings tried to explain,
Where there's a tree and a sky and bud.
Something I could quantify,
Like how your star sign and mine dance around the earth with one another.
How it all means nothing by itself, just some shots in the dark
But because of love, some of those shots meet their target.

One day I'll write you a love poem,
A real one.

They say I deserve better.
                  I can't say I agree.

There are no words
None that I could find
And I've been searching for a while
To describe the relief
Of being loved,  maybe even adored,
Despite how sticky with tar my soul is.

Showering won't wash away the way you made me feel.

My grasp on the English language
Is far too insufficient
To explain what is happening inside my head.
It is even more futile,
When I attempt to explain what transpires
In my body.
There are no words
For what causes the disconnect between the two.

These are the only words I could find:
I'm sorry.

I struggle to find the disconnect
Where you remember it pleasantly
But don't want it back

I wish you'd get here already
So I could concentrate

Funny,
What I'd do to get you off my mind.

Like dangling from a cliff edge
Is this love?