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Alaina Moore Jun 2018
Because you assumed.
That I was willing to give.
That I was able to give.
That I had anything to give.

Because you made the choice,
of self-sacrifice for me.
I am upset because
you didn't even think

to ask first.
Alaina Moore Jul 2018
[Hashtag]MeToo
Here it goes again,
trending on Insta and Facebook.
Where real awareness stems.
Mind the sarcasm,
social media’s a powerful tool
not knockin’ that.
I wonder though,
does the mind of the follower
understand the context of the hash?
Do they get it should be a call to action?
Not necessarily at the keyboard.
More like on the couch with their children,
Giving the conversation of consent.  
Most people do not even understand it by definition .
The meaning of yes and no convoluted by scenario.  
Bias boils over like milk and water over full flame.
The posts bubble out and stick to the side of the pan,
quickly drying; leaving their mark.
Until the soap and warm water flows over them,
and the steam evaporates the confessions.
Until they are again whispers we all hear and know.
It’s whispers from the alley ways,
and from married couples bedroom doors.
The woman is the property,  
the man is the proprietor.  
We refuse to address the real problems,
the failures of our up-bringers.
We point fingers and slay names
yet the statistics provide the truth.  
One in four for females, one in sixteen for males.
We all have been violated, slandered, and forced to say
[Hashtag]MeToo
Not going to say I did not share it,
I know the touch of unwanted hands,
the invasive *******.
All for the sake of the insanity,  
in repeating a useless gesture.
The only difference is
My hashtag went to my Senator.
Just found this, needs editing and punctuation but I liked it so I figured I would share it even as a draft.
4
Alaina Moore Oct 2011
4
Life, four letters that mean everything.
Clearly, without life who would write?
Who would see? And clearly nothing would be.
This world would be empty, and boring.
It would be without color.
Does color exist if no one is there to see it?
There would be no action nor compassion.
Everything would be still and blatantly lifeless.
The bird would not chase the worm,
Nor would the caterpillar rest it's head upon the soft flower.
There would be no countries, no math, no science or sizes.
France the size of Texas, Jacksonville and Paris,
All would be nothingness, nameless, and void.
No fetuses to grow in to babies,
Naked without knowledge.
No balloons to fly at the end of the parade,
Let go by young Marry, with her father John.
No! Without life there would be nothing.
Nothing to evolve from nor too,
Fish to monkeys to me and you.
Four letter word, that means literally all of the above.
Alaina Moore Sep 2018
Thing's that make me uncomfortable:

That feeling when you get mad at me,
because I didn't do the thing, you didn't ask me to do, cause I can't read minds; I'm not your parent.
That tone in your voice when you go off about how unfair the world is, triggered by the slightest setback.
The feeling when I sacrifice all that I am for the sake of your mood and happiness, in vain.
That sound of the exacerbated sigh when I ask you to run an errand, as if I am not also tired.
The pressure of carrying us both on broken legs.
The pit in my chest when I ask your opinion and you say "I don't care," but you actually do care, because whatever choice I make is laced in ridicule.
When you say you're doing something for me but you're just trying to make yourself feel better about doing it for yourself.
When you use my disorder as a justification or excuse, but when I actually need your help you seem burdened and annoyed.
That "okay then" moment when I give you everything you ask for and you take it as if you never wanted it.
"If love is a labor, I'll slave till the end." -Rise Against

"these words are knives that often leave scars" - Panic! at the Disco
Alaina Moore May 2018
Sometimes when I'm waiting in public
I stare at the tv screens blaring sports.
I don't watch the game,
I zone out.
Into the abyss.
Until I don't have to be in public anymore.
I don't like sports.
Watching the spectacle makes me seem normal amongst the herd.
This poem is about being in public while having an anxiety attack and/or, being depressed to the point where words are hard to form, movements are arduous to make, and so on. It's about dealing with these feelings but hiding them to the outside world to remain productive and seemingly "okay."
Alaina Moore May 8
Ever acclimating to reality.
Suddle differences between then and now.
Hopelessness fades into almost happy.
Depressed all the same but getting better.
Minor inconveniences expolde into melodrama.
Relearning coping mechanisms like burning down sulpher.
Olympian effort for mataining expectations.
Progress yet still nervous.
Like standing on a sandstone cliff on the edge of the Grand Canyon.
No difficulty fathoming how far I could fall.
Challenge is trusting that I won't blindly jump into the river.
Alaina Moore Jul 2018
Mouth over mind;
I could have said that better.
I’m sick and I don’t know how to be helped.
I am lonely in a crowded room.
Grasping for something that
simply isn’t there.
The silence is laced with disrespect,
and the disregard leaches my hope.
Articulation like strangulation,
each sentence a new meal
shoved down my throat.
Perhaps that’s where my appetite fled,
full of past statements
out of context.
I need a break that’s not from a bat.
I need compassion that isn’t laced with guilt.
Above all else I need honesty.
Without that all I have is chaos.
I’d ask you to keep me in your mind,
among all the impulsive desires
to self-indulge.
Alaina Moore Oct 2011
Green, yellow, red,
The color of me and my fellows.
When the sun's heat touches my friends,
They create life, thus I began.
I gown to serve my family,
To keep the tree alive.
I grow to aid the environment,
I make the animals thrive.
Ever since I opened my stigma
I have seen this world of truths.
I watch the animals fight and blossom.
I also understand I must die.
But I will never die in vain.
I am nourishment. I am the beginning.
I start new life, or sustain it.
Natures circle, where I fit.
Alaina Moore Dec 2018
I seek out the riptide
to carry me to oblivion,
assuming I can breathe underwater.
Alaina Moore May 2018
Joints simply electric.
Aware of every muscle.
Feel heavier today,
Did I wake up on Jupiter?
No, just barometric pressure.
Each step a chore;
Try not to let it show.
My mind compensating,
Trying to ignore what the brain perceives.
By then end of the day I am wasteland.
Existence becomes intolerable.
It's times like these I forget,
That my minds on constant auto pilot.
"It's not pain it's pressure"
"It's all a misfire"
"This isn't real."
Without a rested mind,
I melt, I burn, I'm plagued by electric waves.
Harshly remained of what I daily ignore.
Some days I can't do it,
Today is one.
I wrote this during a pretty intense flare up. During a time when I was overburdened with many existential factors of life that I could not focus on ignoring the pain - and so - I was harshly reminded about how important it is to my condition to have a healthy mind.
Alaina Moore Jun 2018
Picture yourself:
confident threads,
in a mix fabric shirt.
You're in a relationship,
and it's full of love.
Till one day,
it's skewed.
The love is there by title,
but the actions have fled.
Hands cupping a Samsung,
rather than your hand.
Their mind fixed to any and everything,
but a conversation with you.
Spend the whole day together,
with but a few, short replies.
Keep telling yourself,
it will improve.
In the blue light haze,
sitting right next to the love of your life,
feeling lonelier than ever.
Unable to express it,
for fear of retaliation.
So you sit there,
noting the confidence count
on the clothes you're wearing
isn't high enough for this.
So you stay silent,
wondering what's so captivating,
in the blue light.
Alaina Moore May 21
You know that feeling,
of not wanting to go home?
Because you know there is some trigger there, just waiting behind the door.
Or somewhere in the hall closet,
or kitchen cupboard.
When the wrong tone rolls off the tongue and you end up eating crow for dinner, in total silence.
The hollowness grows like a **** in your chest.
Ceaselessly creating shelters just to watch them burn.
Eggshells crack like atom bombs,
and this emptiness grows heavy with each passing step.
When your biggest wish is to come home to smiling faces.
"If hello, could only drop it's 'o'" - Coheed and Cambria
Alaina Moore Mar 2013
Some chemical influences are necessary.
Experimentation is mandatory.

Skim the syllabus and you will see,
MDMA is chapter three.
Hemp is the strongest ****,
At least that's what I learned in Botany.

Biology came as quite a shock,
When the plants pulled out their *****.
English came as such a breeze,
The Diazepam brought poetry bees.

They pollinated the dopamine receptor,
Which greatly impressed my psychology professor.  
When the zombies rose for dead weeks droll,
Adderall and Vyvanse kept us cool.

There's always a place in the Union Bathroom stall
To do a dome some Coke before study hall.
Of all the girls in my dorm floor
Roxy and Molly were just next door.

Art history wasn't the most entertaining,
Until Absinth was my painting water.
Finals were such a stress, so I'll admit
We laced our gin shots with Xanex.  

College was an experience, I'll admit,
But Chemistry got me on the DEAn'S list.
This is more of an articulation of college stereotypes and actualities and in no way reflex my own personal experiences.
Alaina Moore Sep 10
Rapidly approaching dusk, the sunbeams are bouncing across car roofs, creating a river of deep red.
Below there's broken glass strewn across the always shining like star light bending in the atmosphere.
I wonder what the glass thinks of being shattered by drunk nomad who felt the desire to release the bottle at high velocity?
Does it care that it's avoided by all the passers by?
Does it feel free having escaped the vessel and sprawl across the concrete?
Perhaps I need to be shattered to break free?
Trapped in mental paradox I struggle to find resolution.
Wading in ambiguity without direction, exhaustion settles into routine.
Waiting to see the fruits of my investment in self.
Work in progress... Not sure where I'm going with this
Alaina Moore May 23
Never feel like there is not
consistency in your life.
There will always be people
that disappoint you.
Rolling over you like
a gravel road.
They will be that wheel crushing you
into the stones.
"I don't need friends, they disappoint me"#RipVine
Alaina Moore Sep 2018
I feel as though
I could sink below this Cobblestone
and lay forever among these rocks.
That have been pounded
so hard by the tide
they were brave enough to become smooth.

Adapting to roll along blissfull waters,
until imprisoned here
among the urban shore.

I envy these soft stones.
Cemented in their purpose.
I relate to the chips on the rocks,
unable to bare the new pressures
of high heels and loafers.

I too feel imprisoned in this pressure,
I too feel the cracks on my surface forming.
Alaina Moore Jul 2018
So I just did some math.
This week,
according to the numbers,
I've consumed on average
375 calories a day.
Call it 500.
I have no appetite;
I'm stressed;
It's hot;
I'm ill.
This relapse is
not like the ones I know.
It's so subconscious
I'm drowning
trying to fix it.
I tremble as I write this.
I don't know how I get through the day.
But I do know,
there is a mountain
of responsibilities
that I must manage
regardless.
I can't just over medicate
and play games
when I'm stressed.
I can't rest when I'm sick.
I must bare it all,
for both of us.
I'm being crushed
by this mountain.
Honestly don't know if this poem makes sense.
Alaina Moore Nov 2018
I married a hurricane, and still get surprised when it rains.
Alaina Moore Jun 2018
On your manic days,
when I can't get eye contact from you,
when your phone is your best friend,
and cleaning up your mess,
is the only thing on your mind.
I keep hearing your words
"I'm not a cuddling person,
you should be grateful
for what affection
you get from me."
You say you didn't mean it.
Yet I'm a ghost in my own home.
Unable to get my husbands touch.
I question my existence,
my purpose,
and why I sacrifice so much,
only to be scarified.
Alaina Moore Jul 11
A stark realization.
I'm, for lack of a better word, obsessed with South Park.
Not like collectables, clothing, or other cluttered stuff.
But like ingrained into my personality, seriously, like a face hugger planting seeds in my core. Hatching into satirical, political, ridiculous obsession
Half my inside jokes.
The majority of my random noises.
Sewn within my vocabulary.
Constantly murmuring on the TV like old friends at dinner.
In my achievement list on Steam.
On my blu-ray shelf.
Gently nudging me with phone notifications to collect my free pack.
Definitely used in comparisons at work.

Equally tearing down the walls of anyone and everyone.
I eat it up.
Alaina Moore Jan 16
Missed the deadline
To submit poems
To one of my favorite books...

Lost my drive for poems
Because I am caught in the gears
Grinding against medal

I have a lot to say
Eh... I'm to worried to say it
To tired to push through articulation.

The poems come like fleeting thoughts
With no time to focus on them
Nor jot them down in the moment.

Just small snippits for me
I suppose
Jumbled attempts at explaination.
Alaina Moore May 2018
Tremors from the pressure
tremble the relics
of years past
Years reflected now
via passionate words
of miscommunication.
No matter how articulated
the opposite is spewed
like blood on the walls.
Best intentions die
among solid efforts.

Finding It's best to not
say anything at all.
Alaina Moore May 2018
Skills we don't teach:
How to articulate
disappointment
to someone you love,
at their weakest state.
In an empowering way;
positively.
Negating the overwhelming
negativity
you feel inside.
Alaina Moore Feb 21
Were I a Starfleet Captain I would be unfit for duty, but this is no Federation of Planets.
This is a moment in time and barely anything at all, yet it is everything.
Carrying a weight on my back of a small crew, I lack the mental fortitude to take care of their carrier.
The cacophonous cocktail stirring within my ribs is barely tolerable.
In fact, It is not tolerable.
Adorned in a gown of ripped tissues,
the waves come like tsunamis.
Somehow throughout my turmoil I have to remain focused and continue forward.
Every step is heavier than the next and I often am unsure how I will see the sun set.
If I'll make it there alive or as some hollow shell with a faux optimism.
Alaina Moore Jun 2018
Peak depression:
Asking your spouse
"Do you wanna eat dinner?"
Rather than
"What do you want for dinner?"
Alaina Moore Dec 2018
In algebra there is a method for factoring polynomials
called "guess and check."
You figure out the factors A and C  
and mix and match them until you find something equal to the original problem.
It's a good analogy for this feeling, these moments, where a direct answer escapes me, or you.
So I am left with no other method,
besides "guess and check."
Sometimes the first few guesses find the answers, sometimes you have to try it twenty different ways.

I am exhausted by this constant guess,
of what A and C equal.
An onerous search for the variables to solve the equation of making you happy.
Alaina Moore May 2018
Ever had someone tell you something
That swept the rug out beneath your feet?
Falling so slow it takes hours to hit the ground.
But you find it.
Cold and merciless.

I'm on the floor
Can't find my feet.
But I will.
This poem is about a time when I was told about something from my past that, for lack of a better phrase, left me breathless. It was one of the hardest things I have had to hear to date.
Alaina Moore Jun 2018
"You need to chill."
"Why don't you just relax?"
"Why are you so sensitive?"
"Why are you depressed?"
"What are you doing about your depression?"
"Why don't you just eat something?"
"Are you even trying to get better?"
"You're not trying"
"Why don't you try harder?"
"You should workout more"
"Why don't you grow your hair out?"
"If you lost more weight you'd be really ****"
"You need to learn how to entertain yourself"
"Everyone has problems"
"Would you just stop talking"
"You make everything about yourself"
"You're just confused"
"We've plateaued"
"My mom thinks you hate her"
"You don't listen to feedback"
"You make jab comments"
"You take everything as a jab comment"
"If you can't see I'm trying to help you then, sorry"
"I don't have the mental fortitude to deal with you"
"You're not supportive enough of others"
"I give up"
"You complain to much"
"You just sit around and mope all the time"
"You're always on your phone"
"You bring up the past to much"
"You don't do enough around the house"
"You should be grateful for what affection you get"
"Why are you anxious?"
"You make me crazy"
"I don't care"
"You're too needy"
"You need to just get over it"
"I give up, there's no talking to you"
"I can't say anything to you without you getting upset"
"Just stop crying"
"You need to be nicer"
"You're impeding my progress"
This is the **** that plays though my head every minute of every ******* day and people ask me these stupid ******* questions like "what are you doing about it?" ******* EVERYTHING, number one, trying to ignore all this regressive **** the ones I love have said to me.

PSA: NOT BLAMING ANYONE HERE. If you can't see that I pity you. But since some of you don't get it let me explain the ******* poem.
Fault - when depression hits it effects everyone, so fault is spread throughout. Some is real, some is not.
Quotes - sometimes when people think they're helping you they say the wrong thing. Sometimes this could equate to a microagression sometimes it's just something harmful.
Depression - depression effects everyone. I am in therapy, I am working toward bettering myself and doing everything in my power to heal so I can be the best mom and wife I can be. So when I am struggling and someone cynically asks me "but what are you doing tho?" it makes it feel like the months of hard work I put in were for nothing. That hurts.

So, do not for a ******* second think this is some woe is me ******* poem. This is the rude *** **** people have said to me on my healing journey. MY JOURNEY THAT I AM WORKING ON.
Alaina Moore Sep 2018
"What's funny is" is a ****** statement to be on the receiving end of, it nearly ever ends well.
What's funny is... Often times, most of the time, it's not funny at all. Curious, that we take humorous language and make it into lighter fluid to burn bridges.
What's funny is... The fire is usually a case of arson brought about by projection of in-the-moment feelings, that are fleeting. *******, that we allow ourselves to make them permanent; just mindless masochistic beasts wallowing in the ashes.
What's funny is... The echo chambers we've created for ourselves are actually prisons. Ironic, that we make up walls made out of bricks of unreachable goals, and get disappointment when we don't achieve them.
What's funny is... Is that the more I interact with people the more I understand why we let ourselves indulge, and indulge, and indulge, to numb the monotony for just one ******* second. Nerve wracking, that every person is just a liability I cannot trust to not become the shackles attaching the weights that drown me.
What's funny is... As hard as I try to remain invisible, I'm forever tracked by a spotlight that blinds me. Insane, to think for one second we are anything but dirt on the ground; let me be dirt.
What's funny is... The numbness, and the pain, are like logs on the fire. Enduring, daily, the pokes and prods to keep the embers going when all they wanna do is die.
What's funny is... I like to dance in the flames but hate being on fire. Truthfully, I aim for embers.
Somewhat outside of my normal style.
Alaina Moore Feb 2
Overwhelmed is a term tossed around to the point of underwelming.
I am a depressed person in a glass cage, with no way to hide my fear.
Like a million little cuts across my body, and not a **** one distracts me from myself.
I feel like I'm pounding on the glass screaming, "I wish you would just be happy!"

I'm a depressed person wanting telling a depressed person the worst things to say to depressed people.
The irony is a silent needle that sews the lips shut.
Pretend you're alseep while pretending to be alive.
I sacrifice myself for others worthy of the life.
Exhausting to carry their burdens, and the tears they can't actually cry.
Faces rest in palms as if hands are any sort of shelter.
Inability to let things go makes me feel like I have to rip them apart.
Living like this makes you ill beyond belief.
All I want is a good night's sleep.
Alaina Moore Apr 5
Big city.
Crowded train.
Observe the vast graveyard,
on the commute.
All those who came before.
Some days it induces fear.
The great unknown.
The hard stop.
Some days it spurrs a sigh.
A releiving exhale.
All things end.
Reminder of the moment.
A promise to end all suffering.
Assuming I'm patient enough,
to let it consume me naturally.
Reminder not to rush to the finale.
It is inevitable, after all.
Alaina Moore May 2018
Dishonorable, repugnant, grotesque.
Words highlighted, bright,
In correlation with your actions.

Gristle filled morality.
Chewing on the facts;
Unable to digest.

Audacity to ask
For cruel silence.
Allegiance forcibly chosen.

Claws against ribcage
Something's trying to escape
You put in chains.

Thoughts off the edge
Falling in circles
Crashing on pikes.

Hands clinched tight
On brittle strands
Of ***** blonde hair. snap

A cowards lies
Tattooed on my bones
"Approved eyes only."

Can't breathe
Atmosphere is toxic
Gassed by friendly fire.

Status quo upheld
Smile, pretty white teeth.
Ready to rip out.
Alaina Moore Jul 2018
These people act like I sit on my phone, protesting food like Ghandi, and absorb depression through the silicone.
Alaina Moore Nov 2018
Our relationship is dead,
as a door nail,
six feet under with settled dirt.
Do not think for a second you deserve forgiveness.
Do not think for one minute I owe you anything.

I am an actor on a stage the moment you see me smile your way.
I'll see you on the holidays,
an exclusive relationship of putting up with you.
Like wet socks or taxes.
I'll gladly watch your life blossom or burn from a cozy 850 miles away.

We're not cool and we wont be until [insert actions here].
That's just the thing,
I don't know how you fix this.
I do know I couldn't care less if ya did.
I'd hate you if I thought you were worth the energy, but your not worth a calorie, a thought, and least of all a fourth, fifth, sixth chance.

You're dead to me.
I'll pour one out for you,
If I ever consider you worth the waste.
Alaina Moore Oct 2011
I will see the day victorious
But the day is never done.
Regardless of their numbers
No mighty sedge will-ever I run.
Never would I waste my time
Pity none the lesser
I will center my emotions
Let the anger manifester
Until it radiates from my skin
Like the fire from suns
Many moons of restless rouges
Informalities and salacious puns.
Alaina Moore Mar 2013
Plagiarism of worthless ideals,
that you so ignorantly hold high.
Shaking in amazement,
how can you call your self alive?

Totalitarian, lethargic lifestyle.
Ignominious displays of disaffection.
Constant contradictions;
out of your mind.

Caught up in the clouds,
cognition of mania and level debauched.
Up to high to realize, you're an “open mind” with locked doors.
Maslow, Skinner, and Darwin alike, turn in their graves,
over your lack of evolution.
Alaina Moore Oct 2018
I'll never stand between you and your family,
but I will point out when they use you.
My relationship with members will differ from yours.
There are somethings I'm not sure I'll ever forgive.
Simply put, we are different people,
marching through this life together.
You have to understand
you may be able to move on,
and I may not be able to.
I have a great fake smile,
but I am not going to lie.
That person is dead to me,
that's not something I joke about.
I am done with them,
even if you're not.
I hope you understand.
Alaina Moore Oct 2011
In the mist of night
I sat under computers light
Watching moving pictures
Of ******* delight.
With motions so loveless
Even my father would be amazed
At how empty and soulless
There facile expressions became.
How pathetic am I
Not to get off to such a sight
Am I broken on the outside
Or has the inside ****** me dry?
The continuous coitus
Has me wrapped in memories,
That remind me how miserably inadequate
My past lovers have been to me.
I've never got the good side
Of cunnillingus you see
Just been known as the first three letters aided with a "t."
I am distant and disconsolate with life
Relationships seem to end
Once me and males meet in sight.
My never ending lust for liaison
Has left me with no earth to stand upon.
Alaina Moore Jul 2018
Everyday is like a hurricane
without NOAA.
High sustained winds
cut my emotions to shreds;
as words, like debris, crash into me.
I'm trying to smile,
but the rain floods my eyes
until the leaves burst.
The storm rages on
with the fury of
high temperatures.
I'm holding on to street lamps,
losing my footing,
while all I was trying to do
was sing in the rain.
Alaina Moore Jun 2018
Lately when I've been walking,
I find myself staring at the sidewalk.
Thinking "I should just lay down,"
as if the sidewalk is the perfect place
for a defeated nap.

Lately when I've been working
I find myself unable to concentrate.
Words move around on the screen
and my brain can't keep up with my eyes.
Reading only to instantly forget.

Lately when my phone rings
I panic a little.
Fearing whatever is on the other end
is something that isn't conducive
to peace.

Lately I have started to wonder
If I was mistaken to hide my sickness,
to hide my pain.
Because now I can't hide it,
and the perception of me becomes
a crying wolf.
Yet I've always felt this way,
just with lips sewn shut.

Lately when I've been eating
I am repulsed by food.
My throat rejects it;
unable to swallow.
No appetite,
neglecting the consequences;
the hallow weakness.

Lately I've felt like
I am slowly killing myself.
Adrenal gland pumping,
at all hours of the day;
heart grieving;
stomach on strike;
body screaming.

Lately I've been trying to get better
but I can't tell if it's working.
Alaina Moore Jul 2018
When I was younger
I didn't understand the phrase
"I wish I'd never been born."
I thought it synonymous with
"I want to die."
In many ways it is.
Yet the phrase is less saying
"I want to die," and more saying
"I wish my lack of existence
wouldn't cause you any pain."
It's saying,
"only a few I love keep me here."
It's saying,
"I'd give up all I've lived to not have to go on any longer.
But if not for you,
I would choose an early out."
It's as near sighted
as any suicidal logic.
But the depth is something,
I've identified with in these
later days.
Alaina Moore Jun 2018
I thought
by 27
cutting myself
would be off the table.
Rather I'm carving pictures
on the table,
wishing it would bleed.
Alaina Moore Dec 2018
Putting mascara on the eyelashes below your iris,
is like making a promise to yourself that you won't cry today.
Sometimes it's a promise you keep.
Other times your tears run black with broken promises.
Alaina Moore Aug 2018
I'm starting to think it's me.
Maybe I ask to much,
though, admittedly,
maybe's it's because
I don't know what I am asking for?
I am starting to think, it's me.
Maybe I am the problem.
Or maybe that's just the voice in my head,
like a vice,
crushing any minor thing,
like an atom,
until it splits with the force of a thousand suns.
Or maybe it's everything else,
me included.
Maybe I just say it's me,
because I am my biggest bully,
and easiest target.
I thought I was asking for simple things,
but nothing seems simple anymore.
I just want these ropes untied from my hands.
Trapped in my own mind like a hostage,
who doesn't care if they make it out.
There is no greener grass on the other side,
I just wish this grass wasn't wet.
Sticking to me like feathers and tar.
I'm starting to think that I am just coasting along,
waiting for someone to help me fix my boat for me, before it sinks.
Me
Alaina Moore Oct 2011
Me
Warmness comes across my skin.
A feeling I know so well,
It devours me.

Coldness creeps over my soul.
The darkness takes a hold.
Tolerance consumes me.

Words fall like sleet
They burn my flesh,
Weaken every inch of me.

Lies grow until they are vast,
Inescapable forrest of wickedness,
All created by me.
Alaina Moore Jan 25
Eye lashes brase my brow with a flash of awareness.
Of gravity, of heart rate, with fading memories of mental images and sinking in reality.  
Argument insues among the self
"why do I have to get up?"
"I don't know the ******* answer, just get up."
It goes on repeat.
Get up, get up, get up.
Frozen in the warm sheets and safe feeling that just barely lets the pressure fade.
"Why can't I stay in the twilight of REM and awake where my body is light doesn't hurt and my mind has solace?"
"I don't know, just get up."
Get up, get up, get up.
This feeling has lost me GPA points
and this feeling has cost me jobs.
Place my hands on my chest and streach out my legs.
Rip away from the fetal position and complement myself relentlessly.
Get up, get up, get up.
"You're okay" I wisper as though the echo will ensure it's truth.  
Deep breathing to irratic breathing to controled breathing.
Rise, wash, repeat.
Get up, get up, GET UP.
Rip the sheets off like a bandaid and immediately stand.
Run to the warm shower.
Pretend it's rain and back to deep breathing.
Complement what a great job I'm doing, getting out of bed, not even crying.
How proud I should be I'm taking care of myself - by taking a shower.
A basic Target pattern, fortress of solitude.
Consumed in the hot artificial rain drops I find another fleeting moment of solace.
Deep breathing, "you're okay."
Let the water run over my shoulders until it turns cold.
Dry off in the shower, take advantage of the ignored greenhouse gas - bask in the humidity.
Look into my dark eyes in the mirror, and ask questions. And hope they are good that day.
Alaina Moore Mar 2013
I have always hated the way you look at me.
With such distance and disgust,
Among colorless eyes.
I am doomed to my fate
The old views I cherish.
I am a child of wind and rain, not DNA.
My scientific lust spliced with my bioluminecent heart.
Nothing more than bones and bruises; trying to hide.

We are children of a past we don’t agree with.
It is a past we comprehend, we’ve lost our empathy.
Forgotten our lust for cruelty.
See it true, those of the past would not pity you.
Not one soul, fore none alive today could know,
The horror of swords, dirt, disease and patriotism.
Work in progress, comments always encouraged.
Alaina Moore Mar 14
Faint whispers in the day and dark.
Smiles fade into clever camouflage as the truth builds walls miles high.
Mirror tells lies, and truths I can't stand to observe.
Body rejects sustinace; swipe left, try again tomorrow.
Mind glossed in walls that reverberate, ever growing louder.
Skin crawls like a million earthworms worms dreaming of becoming butterflies.
Decaying in plain site, hidden behind a thousand "okays" and "alrights."
Verbatim honesty escapes my tounge.
Soul ever inching toward the light.
Alaina Moore Mar 8
Being empathic is like having a noose around your neck.
Yet never knowing when someone will decide to drop the floor.
Leaving you hanging.
Alaina Moore Jun 2018
I need to stand up,
but I am to heavy;
apathetic; hollow.
I wasn't expecting this,
I'm so sorry.
I failed you.
I can't distract myself from reality.
This is all my fault.
I should have treated you better,
I was just so tired; overworked; overburdened.
I brought you into my hurricane
only to be buried a child.
I'm so sorry I couldn't teach you,
to find a way to make you listen;
make you look up.
I loved you to death,
I'm sorry I was to jaded to give you what you needed.
I miss you so much,
I didn't expect this to be so heavy.
I keep seeing your joyous face,
and then the hole in the ground.
Child, I am so sorry.
You deserved better,
you deserved a long life,
you deserved open air.
I did the best I could,
but I can't make you look up,
I can't make their car stop,
I can't wake you up.
I failed you young one.
I'm so sorry.
My dog god hit by a car on 6/7/2018.

She was a beautiful soul.

Work in progress.
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