a little less like an alarm,
a little more like being trapped in a burning building,
mistaking the fire for warmth,
mistaking the heat for passion,
mistaking the smoke for breathless bliss,
but things that promise light seldom go unheard,
and you aren't any different

The ******* the bridge,
Always on a yellow blouse
And a white flowing skirt.
Never a night does she misses her spot.
Elbows on the railings
Hair fluttering as wild as the wind
Always obscuring her face from sight.

Every night, I wonder
Who is she?
Where is she from?
Why this lonely bridge?
Never seen her move a muscle
Nor utter a sound.
It was rather strange.

Until one night, I decided to chat with her.
"Hey" I called but no response.
She must be coy...
"Hey..." I tried again and approached her this time.
No response still.
Is she deaf?

I touch her shoulder and she turns
She gave a shrilling scream
And that was all I remembered.
In the hospital I woke
And when asked why I had passed out on a bridge,
I could give no response.
I was cold.
The memory brought nothing but pure terror.

For how could I tell them
That the ******* the bridge
Had no face?
Yet she had always gazed down at the flowing stream below
And she had screamed right at me with no mouth on her empty face.

Anytime I walk on the bridge
Her spot is always empty
For she's forever gone
But I still have this wary feeling
That she watches me from the shadows
With that faceless horror
Waiting to take my face for hers.

everyone

villainized
victimized
ostracized
and

crucified

I leaned in close
enough to smell
the rubber of the hoses
now keeping him alive.

For the second time in my
life I was at a loss for words.

I rested my hand ontop of his own
and said,
"God is Real, Please Remember me."

The machine was now silent
as a families worth of tears
fell to the floor.

No more Pain.

How dare you.
How, DARE, you.
Try to talk to me...
as if you don't remember anything.

I trusted you back then
when I needed a friend,
you were nothing of the sort!
You were the opposite.

I try my best, I try really hard
to leave grudges in my past...
but I have a dreaded feeling
that this grudge for you, may last.

Pretending to be there for me,
patting my back so comfortingly.
When really all you were doing
was luring me in.

Down to last second.
Before I was faint,
I swear I remember
the smile on your face.

I can't stand it.
How easily you decided my fate.
How do ******* live with yourself?
You make me feel things I can't bare to say.

What is life if not a tiny speck of light
between nothingness and death.

It was killing me
To know
That I meant so little to you
But now
It's killing me
To know
That you know that I cared

i am the 1 am drunk text
i am the family pictures popping up on  your newsfeed
i am the polaroid at the bottom of your desk drawer
i am the modern baseball song that you can't seem to skip
i am the candy wrappers in your car door
i am the cd stuck in your car radio that is just me singing a song i never should have written for you
i am the way a dorm room bed is always just big enough
i am the draft of a poem that was never just right

and

you are the space between the lines of the poems that aren't fixing anything
you are the dried up corsage in the back of my closet
you are the third step on the stairs into the basement where i swear i can still see stains of mascara on the carpet from november 8, 2015
you are the post card i never sent
you are the post card i sent but never should have
you are the phone calls i can't make
you are the nightmares i have where we are both running from something not clear to us


now that i've set the scene are you sure you want to delete your audition tape?
are you sure that your first try was good enough?