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Shelby Jencyn Jul 2017
My home used to have a heartbeat;
it pulled me tightly to its chest.
My home smelled like smoke,
smoke and vanilla and earth.
I roll over in my bed, reaching.
I'm always reaching for something.
Only a balled up comforter and sheets,
they should've been washed yesterday.
I keep thinking I'll reach and feel home,
there will be warmth on the bed again--
gentle breathing to sing me to sleep.

Sleep became futile,
my arms made of lead.
Pinning me to the cold,
this residence is not my home.
I plead for my arms to rest,
but my fingertips keep stretching;
as if they could stretch into the past
and pull my home from the rubble.
The remnants of a lost foundation;
if my fingertips could mend.
My home was left behind in the wake.
Shelby Jencyn Oct 2017
I want to apologize for the things I can't change.
I want to embellish the things I wish I could.
How do I stop your hands from bleeding
When touching me is what caused it.
Some pieces are weathered beach glass
Smooth to the touch, soft on your skin.
Other pieces are as jagged as the day they broke
Sharper than my tongue when you get too close.
If my hands could heal, they'd still hurt.

A caress like a slap.
A kiss like a split lip.

Hold me tight like an Iron Maiden inside out,
The harder you try the more you bleed.
I'm sorry for the things I can't change.
I apologize for the things I stopped trying to change.
This is no puzzle you can coerce into a picture,
This is a mosaic of every failure and fault.
My fault lines like dried river beds,
Something is always missing,
I never look back at you the same way twice.
I want to apologize for being ever-changing.
Shelby Jencyn Oct 2020
I knew
That you’d miss me
that I stained you
like tea in water
I changed your color
I knew
You couldn’t forget
the little things
at my very best
love like gold
I knew
you’d go through me
Like a sieve
gradual disappearance
Eventual hello again
I knew
Everything
the very end
way back
in the beginning
S.J.F.
Shelby Jencyn Jan 2018
I have never
Known anyone
Who hated
And loved me
Like you do
The fire keeps me warm
And burns me alive.
S.J.F.
Shelby Jencyn Oct 2017
I would relive the end everyday
If I could relive the day I met you—
Just once.

Feel the finality crash around in my chest,
Leaving nothing unbroken
To meet you one more time.

I would learn how to walk again,
How to speak without a shaking voice
Breathe fire in my lungs.

Swallow my pride like shards of glass
And cough out a ****** forever,
To see you open the door for the first time.

Scream on the floor to relieve the pressure
Scream so my ribs would have room
If brown eyes could still be my favorite.

Anything to see you smile at me,
If only for a day—
I'd relive the end of me to find you again.
Shelby Jencyn Jun 2017
I have pure intentions.
Spinning straw into gold,
my fingertips bleed
with pure intentions.

Cold hands, shaking hands,
hurt when they touch.
Smudging charcoal fingerprints;
evidence of failed attempts.

I had bright eyes,
hope in my lungs;
I had a clean slate,
promise of prosperity.

I smear my slate,
a ravaged canvas,
a painter without soul.
Brush strokes of dissonance.

If one were to look
just long enough,
they might see the hope,
the salvation I couldn't reach.
Shelby Jencyn Nov 2017
The invisible girl painting myself
brighter shades that you might like
hoping you'll stop looking through me.

Coloring vibrancy across my skin
shades of lipstick you said you liked
I started wearing lipstick
I hated lipstick and always have

I smeared it off of my lips
wiping clean the slate I had left
just a color palette

all of the shades of people
Blended across my glass face
People I couldn't convince
to stop looking through me.
S.J.F.
Shelby Jencyn Jan 2023
If you're gone
where the hell am I

Your laugh echoes
crashing off empty surfaces
ricocheting in my mind
through my ribs
I can't find the source
And the smile is gone
nothing to wrinkle your eyes
crescendo of happiness
splayed across your face
And I can't see your face
it's right there in my mind
nearly touching you
feeling the warmth
always warmer than me
And I ache
with this ricocheting laughter
with this missing smile
with this coldness invading my body

I'll keep reaching
my whole life I think
I will be reaching
popping bones from sockets
joints and tendons and ligaments
stretching skin until it's taut
and maybe even tearing
just to feel a graze
just a graze of warmth
see that crescendo of happiness
mirrored on my own face

But you're gone
And where the hell am I
S.J.F.
Shelby Jencyn Jun 2017
I don't recall how long I was on the floor.
My knees buckled;
Gravity betrayed me.
Crawling to bed, I slipped into his shirt.
It still smelled like home.
There was no solace.
I laid in bed day after day.
Word had spread through merciless mouths,
My pitiless inner turmoil
Now casual conversation.
Hushed sympathies and cynicism.
Confirmed expectations like bullets,
ripping through my skin.
I had plans for us,
and I swallow those words;
A pill that chokes me.

Part of me is still in that house.
Part of me is still living out my days,
with you.
A life that only exists in fragments,
sharpened edges of memories.
They cut to the bone.
I see you like an apparition.
I am defeated,
Sadness taking a physical form.
My delusion fades into reality,
I see your hand slip away.
In this reality, I am defeated,
but I am reaching still.
No rhyme, no reason.
Shelby Jencyn Aug 2017
Meeting you was realizing a story.
The kind of story you tell your children;
The story of why you left your home town.
It's a story of multiple endings,
not a single one making sense.
And when I'm alone,
I will walk to the porch you used to meet me on
and I will relive that story.

I'll tell them I left when I realized this town,
the town I adore,
had nothing left to offer me.
That I outgrew the childhood it gave me.
And I'll know the very reason I left.
It was you. Seeing you. Knowing you were near.
I'll never tell them that.
I'll always know why I had to leave.

The lake that crashes like the ocean,
it's only Sunday evenings with you.
Long drives down the same highway
like I used to drive with you.
The same faces that I see in bonfire light,
one will always be missing.
I had to leave my home town,
one face simultaneously missing and appearing.

I will want to come home.
Stop to see my grandpa's grave on Sundays,
lounge on the deck at my grandma's house.
I'll want to be in the garage with my father,
but I tainted everything with your brevity
thinking it would be permanence.
I will miss my home town,
and all I'll tell my kids is that I outgrew it.

I already miss my home town,
I have not left.
If
Shelby Jencyn Aug 2020
If
If
They loved you
you would not ache
When they raised their voice
Or tremble
When their mood shifted
you would not fear
A specific tone
or shrink
when they entered the room
if they loved you
it wouldn’t hurt
You wouldn’t beg
for Kindness
S.J.F.
Shelby Jencyn Jan 2018
I guess
The difference
Between you and i is that
You saw fault lines
Where I saw a mosaic.
S.J.F.
Shelby Jencyn Feb 2018
I used to think
It was good
To be a little of everything
Until you said
I wasn’t enough
Of anything.
Shelby Jencyn Jun 2018
You told me you loved me
And it took me a moment
A millisecond thought
Heart in my stomach
A time I could only picture
If they heard my “I love you”
When they had their hands on
Another

And another millisecond
Merciless thoughts
How easy it was for them
To look in my eyes
And wish they were someone else’s
Hopes higher than my head
Heart dropping to my feet

A millisecond to remember
Wishing they’d have mercy on me

Only a moment
To know delicate
And kindness without expectation
You hold my chin
Stop me from looking at my feet
Have mercy on me.
S.J.F.
Shelby Jencyn Jan 2018
Time holds me hostage
Thoughts of you slipping
Through concrete fingertips
Please
Just stay.
Shelby Jencyn Jun 2017
Grimacing,
I woke to an overbearing brightness;
Not enough sleep again.
I thought about you and wished the light would retreat.
Wistful reminders of waking too early under your arm,
my head pulsating from lack of sleep--
I lay down and question my self worth.
Habitual.

I silently walk through a house that is not my own,
thick oak floors giving away my attempted discretion.
I move to a deck soaked in sunlight
tucking myself into a corner with a smoke.
My only crutch left.
I relive my last day with you.

"Where've you been?" 'Busy.'
"What are your plans?" Silence.
The corner of any room is where to find me.
Preferential.
Isolated and alone, until someone sees you.
One foot in, one foot out.
One hand reaching, one hand releasing.
My shortcomings help and hinder.

Everyone smiles at you in New Orleans.
I have absolutely no idea what spewed out of me to create this heap.
Shelby Jencyn Nov 2019
We are utterly insignificant
And yet
In this moment
Embers of existence
Burning wax falsehoods
Away from this truth:
I think not of water
Air to breathe
Dirt to dig my heels into—
There is only you.
S.J.F.
Shelby Jencyn Sep 2017
In the end I only have a few excerpts—
beer soaked wisdom,
harsh, morning-light realities:

I don't love effortlessly.
I don't reach for anything out of my grasp.
My hands are always searching
trying to touch soil beneath sidewalks.
Aspirations of affection like dandelions—
vibrancy in a concrete wasteland.
My knuckles will bleed,
my palms will bear callouses of futility.

You were the first effortless thing.
If I had a moment I could relive,
I couldn't.
I strive to recall a moment untainted.

Fall victim to my words.
Feel concrete turn to sand;
lay in the remains with me.
Shelby Jencyn Jun 2017
I was born to be great.
I woke in the arms of hope,
seeing only the eyes of promise;
my mother's undying faith,
my father's immovable justification,
their simple truths bore me to greatness.

My mother's faith, it quivered;
Assaulted by unjust circumstance.
My father's justification, it faltered.
Achilles struck down by his own heel.
I rallied with mediocrity, shamefully.
I fought valiantly to be worse.

The immovable struggles to stay above water,
the faithful begs to be saved, to be helped.
I trip over my own words,
the wrong moments define me.
Disappointment cast my way like a brick,
I was born to be great.

I have seen heroes fall,
Watched villains be slain.
Never have I witnessed the shadows.
The shadows of the once-great,
towering over them--looming with regret,
encompassing the fallen with the question:

What if?
Shelby Jencyn Dec 2017
“Why would you do this again?”
Why wouldn’t I.
Maybe the scar tissue will protect
A thicker skin.
Scraped knees will heal again.

Limp arms by my side still,
But open.
Bright eyes with dark circles,
Too tired to stay open
Still searching against their lids.

Maybe this time I won’t crumble
Sand castle legs in high tide.
There’s no kingdom here.
Weathered remains of pure intentions.
Begging dirt to turn to diamond.

I grip my hope in pressure,
Watching granules become smaller
Never holding together long enough.
Water rising as high as my hopes,
The end lapping at my knees.

Why wouldn’t I?
I was a child kicking down sand castles
Every one I built met the same demise.
How could I blame him
For doing the same.
S.J.F.
Shelby Jencyn Jun 2017
She asked me why I still think about you.
I pondered, mulled, stalled and finally:
"You try. Until it hurts, until you can't;
And then you try harder, until it breaks."

Her eyes were fixated, watching--
waiting for the ripple on the surface.
"I still reach my hand for his,
I still listen for his footsteps."

"Silver linings, you see, they choke.
They peel away your best intentions,
leaving you only a hopeful resentment.
They force you to ignore the storm."

The pitying look she gave was violating.
"I still love him. I still miss him.
I want him to be happy.
I want the best for him."

The truth is, well the truth you see,
That charcoal cloud over my head,
The silver lining pulling tighter,
tighter,
around my neck, until I can't lie.

"I hope he's being choked by his silver lining."
You never realize how bitter you are until your truth is approached by the actual truth.
Shelby Jencyn Jun 2017
I still feel you like waves of nostalgia;
the undertow of memories tugging at my shins,
beckoning me to wade into the familiar.
I revel in the numbing coldness of the water,
it inches up my legs--
I know when to step out.

Long nights with the wrong one,
almost phone calls to your voice;
The cold holds me steadfast.
I'm wary of a deep breath.

My lips quiver on sharpened words,
irony berates me, pulls me, tries to drown me.
I am the cold water, the unforgiving;
I beg them not to wade in searching.

I collapse into myself--
We are lost at sea.

I can feel you like waves.
S.J.F.
Shelby Jencyn Jul 2019
Sometimes I wonder
How hard it was to let me go
Or if it was easy
Was it like sand
You loosened your grip
I fell through the cracks
Of your overbearing fingers
Or was it like ice
The strongest grasp
Only made me slip away faster
Like you never really had me?
S.J.F.
Shelby Jencyn Jul 2017
All we have is a gauntlet.
Some are having roses thrown
And others are dodging axes,
Arrows that pierce
Daggers that embed themselves
Into our skin we try to keep thick.

Stumble down your gauntlet,
Head held high,
Breathing tight and quick.
In the end, as long as you stand
On your feet and still have breath
You've made it.
Shelby Jencyn Sep 2023
Ive never asked for help
But I’ve begged people to love me
Promised them if they looked
They’d see something good
Deserving
Worthwhile
I never asked them to be gentle
Or kind
S.J.F.
Shelby Jencyn Feb 2018
You don’t trust
Pierce me with words
Silver tongue sharpened
Clean entrance
Catastrophic exit
I don’t let go
Perforating my edges
If my word will give way
But it won’t.
Shelby Jencyn Jun 2017
The air in my lungs isn't breathable.
He knows I'm always looking for you.
Blood won't reach my hands.
He said my hands are always too cold.
I haven't felt warm in ten months.

"You're happiest in the summer."
"Yeah, I know." He stares at me,
always watching,
like he'll linger long enough,
see the crack in my disposition
and he'll be able to patch me smooth
and serene again.
If it wouldn't give me away,
I'd laugh.

The people we love, or rather,
The best or worst versions of ourselves,
forever condemning us—
either rise to the unattainable occasion
or fall weary against our worst selves.

"I love you," he says. I smile,
looking at him convincingly.
I don't feel anything.
Be it on the tip of my tongue
or the edge of a lie,
it's cynicism
all
the
same.
S.J.F.
Shelby Jencyn Dec 2017
Fingertips tracing ink lines across your skin
Once nimble now fumbling
Tingling anticipation sharp like papercuts
I keep tracing
Papercuts becoming gashes
Peeling my skin back to the bone
Still tracing
Hands worn down to remnants and bones
You’re already gone
My skin worn out in patches
Pulled taught to my frame
Bones like white stone
Holding my limbs together
Making beauty out of betrayal
Stretching a minute into a lifetime
Bony fingers rapping against a marble chest
Checking for signs of life inside
Crocodile tears on rose-less cheeks
Dark eyes rimmed in bitterness
A wanting mind left alone
How many layers must peel away
Before you see one you want.
Shelby Jencyn Jun 2017
All of my friends are dead.
They're still breathing,
their hearts still beating.
But all of my friends are dead.

The light has gone out,
eyes like stones and hands as cold,
smiles that just don't reach.
All of my friends are dead.

It came gradually in adolescence,
caressing my friends' troubled minds.
Singing them to sleep with silence,
all of my friends are dead.

It promised them relief--nothingness,
in comparison to the weight of everything,
they just had to take the chance.
All of my friends are dead.

Everyday I remember the silence,
the nights it sang me to sleep.
Some of my friends are sleeping forever,
but all of my friends are dead.
I'll be back to this.
Shelby Jencyn Aug 2017
I have laugh lines.
Small fine lines
beginning to form.
Cornering my lips.

Not displeased;
not aggravated
at the simple sign of age.
I was startled.

On a face that did not think
it would grow to see age,
how nice it is to age
with the traces of happiness.

— The End —