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Dec 2021 · 102
Baby Boy
Don't worry sweetheart
You'll never be a statistic where you live inside my head
They're telling you that you were loved
But no one mentioned a thing when you were here to hear it.
Rest easy baby boy
I'll bet you're at peace now
Or at least
You can see what they weren't saying
Sleep peacefully my dearest
The next life has its arms open for you
You weren't a baby any longer.
Nov 2021 · 41
Bubblegum Goo
Living tastes like
The "bubblegum" flavor antibiotic goo
They gave me as a child
To cure my ear aches
You would feed it to me
From a plastic tube
As I cried about the taste
And you would tell me
That it's bad now
But it would make me feel better

It tastes bad now

But you're not here to hold my hand
Or feed me wisdom from a tube
To make it better

My husband walks through life
And doesn't for a single second
wish for death
Not like I do
It's ******* fantastic to watch

Now you can watch me
And you finally see what I've been saying
For so long
That I am tired

Are you sad for me
Or are you disappointed in me
You gave me such a chance
And I took it
But everyday is a struggle
Being alive is an infection
And there's no more medicine in my bottle
Nov 2021 · 28
The Metaphor
The metaphor is:

Staring blankly at a green light as a horn blares behind you
May 2021 · 48
Daddy I'm tired
Daddy we've had this conversation
One hundred times I swear
But I am so tired Daddy.

Everything only gets worse.
It never gets better
No matter how hard I try
Or what I change

And Daddy I'm so tired today
So so tired
And I really wish I could tell you
All about it

That's life kid

But Daddy I'm tired
May 2021 · 300
Daddy they

They've been sending me sympathy cards in the mail
Stopping me in the streets to say how sorry they are
You left me so suddenly not so long ago
They ask me how I'm doing
My entire being isn't a shrine to your memory
Photo on the post office wall is simply my face in a crowd
I'm afraid for what comes next
I miss you
I miss you
Apr 2021 · 1.1k
It's you
Drenched in sweat
Face pressed into my shoulder blades
Taking heaving breaths
Laced with I love yous
Apr 2021 · 52
I'm so ready
Because you are it for me
Why aren't you?
What's wrong with me?
Mar 2021 · 567
I'm The Nightmare
I thought the nightmare
Was about him
But actually
It was about me

You see
I swear to God this isn't like the other times. I'm better now. This is all on the up and up and I love you. There isn't anyone but you.
Feb 2021 · 70
Pieces of You
I can't help but be jealous
Of the other women who've had you
Because your body and soul
are connected
*** is such a serious thing for you
And now they carry with them
Pieces of you
I will never touch
Feb 2021 · 47
This is the love
That old drunks in bars
Wrote songs about losing
And played on weathered guitars
With shaking hands
And empty eyes

This is also the love
That gathers whole families
To celebrate 50 years
Of good mornings
And I love yous

And we, my darling, are
So blessed to have the choice
Of which kind of love
It's going to be
Dec 2020 · 69
I solemnly swear not to hurt my own feelings
Dec 2020 · 53
The first time I get a proper look
At the tattoo playing peek a boo
Along your ribcage
My eyes might see it first
But I'll read it with my tongue
Aug 2020 · 132
A Plaque Beside The Door
Every day
I run boxes
To the doorsteps of -
Magnificent houses
With stone porches
And towering windows
That smell like wood fires
During the winter
And flowers during the summers
With driveways that stretch nearly a mile
Down hills
To overlook acres, many acres
Of land
They are materialized dreams

And on every
mountainous stone porch
Or tree trunk of a door
Or posted at the very bottom of the endless winding drive-
There is a doormat
Or a plaque
A cut metal sign
"The Miller's"
"Kate & Rex"

And I am momentarily so sad
So jealous
Because that is all I want

The woman inside has a husband
With a good job
And a big smile
And her parents love him
And he is nice to her
And he built her a PALACE
And that's all I want
Is OUR last name on a plaque beside the door
But I may never have that
No matter how hard I work
May 2020 · 117
I wish to God
That I could go back
And find all of the moments we shared
So I could read over them
Like a familiar and favorite book
So that maybe
I could find me again
Apr 2020 · 165
How do I tell you
That I miss your hell fire?

Cigarettes in the middle of the night
Wine by campfire light
Lakeside loops
Hula hoops
You were the whiskey in my Dr. Pepper
My now until forever
We walked through the darkness as a pair
I still make our drive but you're not there
I miss you
Jan 2020 · 98
Joy has such a way
Of compromising
My art

These days I string together words
That leave behind vacant metaphors
Empty spaces where my soul used to take residence

I can't stand to sign them
Why brand something I do not own?
Nevermind that the kerosene has evaporated from my pen
My spark died with my anguish
With nothing to light it, it abandoned me, dispersed
I spent so long trying to numb myself
I used to think it was poetic, beautiful
The nights I'd drink a half bottle of whiskey
Before nine o'clock
The way my smile brightened
My eyes shone
One million cigarettes later
Different kinds in so many different places
Oh the adventure, the whimsy
Like it wasn't all a disguise
Suicide wasnt an option
Destruction was a thrill

I used to exist bouncing between worlds
Ones which I had created and therefore was God

In one I flourished inside my own mind
My own pain
I lived amongst my sins and worshipped my vices
They were a part of me there
Where my art covered the walls in murials

Unlike it's sister
Where my words were nothing more than an amateur's graffiti
Sloppy splattered nonsense that decent humans took as a sign to flee
There was no beauty there
Just the bleak hopes of a woman running from who she was
A permanent prohibition
No liquor
No cigarettes
Just grey sidewalks and clear skies that couldn't even be bothered to rain
The world without poetry

I stepped in and out of each one
Relishing the sadness while simultaneously running from it
I'd never planned on the joy
So when it came I had no more words

"Joy has such a way
Of compromising
My art"
I wish someone had told me that growth
Required so much sacrifice
I chose the most unsavory parts of me as my main adjectives
I put them on display so that only those who wanted those parts of me could get to any of the others
Now that I have erased them, lessened them, retired them
There are so many blank spaces left
Most of me, maybe
Are these sacrifices a compromise
Of the altar I've built
Or gifts that I finally believe I deserve to adorn it with?
All things I'd deprived myself of
Hidden from
Lamented about
I'd written a million poems about things I'd never had
How I longed for them, was robbed of them
But now, at my best, at my purest
When all of those things lay before me on a platter
My lips are sealed
My words have wilted and died
I mourn for them like I would a friend - a lover

The foundation of my sanctuary
Had never been solid
Yet I Kept building on top of it
Up and up
The highs got so heavy
That I couldn't keep filling the cracks
With weak empty excuses
Addiction was such a pretty poison flower
It flourished in my garden
I fooled myself and everyone else into thinking
That tending to it first
And everything else last
Showed dedication to myself, my legacy
To being aware of the tragedy of the world
It was such a Johnny Cash-esque charade
The woman in black
With her liquor and cigarettes
Look at me
Lamenting about the injustices
While doing nothing but drowning and preaching
Look at me
I'm a ******* poet
I ooze messiness and disdain from every pore
I ***** metaphor
I'm so deep
So deep
In the hole that I dug myself
With no plan for a way out

After I tore down
The unholy temple I'd made of myself
Stripped my altar of lipstick stains
My pain, his pain, your pain
I dressed myself like a fresh ****
Spilled my toxic guts onto the floor
Drained my tainted blood
Skinned my arms - my *******
To clear away the dark words I'd tattooed there
I Set fire to the Bible I composed
Full of strung out verses
About death and life and loss
All those things poets dwell on
Make a living off of

Then all that was left was me
And I didn't know what that meant anymore
I'd forgotten so long ago how to simply be
Sober, happy . . . Alive
I was staring at a blank piece of paper
I could write anything I wanted
But somewhere along the way
I'd run out of words

The sacrifices we make
Are so frightening

I'm still afraid
Still grieving
But I've planted roses in my garden
Repainted my temple with greys
I've invited in visitors for the first time in so long
To worship alongside me
Leave gifts at my altar
There are windows now
So that when the sun rises there is finally light
And though the words still don't come so easily
They trickle in with the rain
They tumble out with a laugh
They're tracked in on the soles of shoes
Little by little I'm piecing them together
Like a priceless and shattered vase
They're taking shape at last
To find me at peace
A new artist
Weaving different worlds with my words
Finding new things to say

Maybe, joy has a way
Of compromising my art
Or maybe
Joy has a way
Of repainting
My world

These sacrifices we make
They're poetry too
Jan 2020 · 186
Just a letter
Maybe this isn't a poem so much as it is a letter. Not that it's anything new since once upon a time I wrote you a book. I only looked you up because I've been watching a show that has a big display of your type of crazy. It made me think of us for the first time in a very long time. I hate most of the things about you. The way you talk. The things you like. I hate your music, and for the sake of rhyming I hate your stupid ******* bike. I don't know what it was that kept me around for so long. I guess more than anything it was chemistry, not details that drew me in. The great ***. I don't know anymore I haven't thought about it in so long.
Moral of the story is I looked you up today. You've got a new girlfriend and for a second I was jealous. She's not as pretty as I am. Maybe she loves you more; or maybe just for real. All I know is I'm glad we're not together, since I missed you for the first time in years just tonight. There was nothing for me in you. Bye now.
Jan 2020 · 185
Still Don't Know Why
I mourned you
As if you had died
Then I saw you today
With my own eyes

And it sparked joy in me
That you were alive
Remembering a time
When you were by my side

It wasn't easy for me
Seeing your ghost
The very soul
Who I'd loved the most

But there you were
Bag in your hand
Unkept beard on your face
Less of a boy more of a man

So consider these words
A lingering kiss goodbye
Because you've still left me
And I still don't know why
Dec 2019 · 307
My Father
My father is an old man
Once upon a Time he was a cold man
He was almost always a good man
The kind where you knew where you stood, man.

My father raised loud daughters
My father raised proud daughters
My father raised daughter that said yes with no question
Who's no's were not a suggestion

My father raised strong daughters
Beside you when nights got long daughter
My father raised stern daughters
Daddy raised you get what you earn daughters

My father raised daughters that would fight a grown man
But know when to stay silent and when to raise a hand
Daddy raised daughters that don't need a man
Daddy raised daughters just like he planned

And those daughters became mother's
And their daughters are difficult women
Loud women
Proud women

Because daddy looked around and didn't like what he saw
He saw weak men
Like to drink men
He saw men who beat their wives
He saw men waste their lives
He saw men who would suffice
To sleep next to his daughter the rest of his life

So Daddy raised women to be strong
And sat beside them when nights got long
He never had titles, power, or wealth
In his old age he barely has his health
But daddy gave me more than money or fame
Daddy gave me his spirit and gave me his name
Nov 2019 · 285
The problem we are having
Is that I am at peace with myself
Which means only
That I am at war with you
And I fight so hard
To be enough
I try to be sweet enough
Clean enough
Happy enough
Awake enough
**** enough
Forward enough
Modest enough
Reclusive enough
Home early enough
On your schedule enough
But enough is enough
You claim you are leaving
I hope you either treat me properly
Or this time you just go
Nov 2019 · 118
Empty Spaces
I found comfort
In your being
Beside me
In a crowd
In the car
In the world

In a moment

That's why I have so many empty spaces
Nov 2019 · 773
I was soul food for you
While you watched me starve
The suicide diaries
Oct 2019 · 393
Oct 2019 · 252
I never planted my roots with you
Because the ground was too firm
You had too many rocks

Oh light of my life
How was I meant to grow up
When I was surrounded by ground covers

all around me

How was I meant to bloom
in a garden
that you never cared to water?
I still loved you the most
Oct 2019 · 228
My Apologies
I create a version of myself
Custom built
For every person that I meet
But for you
I was the only version
Not manufactured
That is why I don't call
That is why i don't write
My apologies.
Oct 2019 · 195
.       let
                                  me in
        sacred spaces
                                                         i can

             let me be your offering
Oct 2019 · 2.3k
Treading Water
.Loving you
Is a sinking ship
And as I bail water out
You pour bucket after bucket
Right back in

.It won't be long now till we're treading water.
Oct 2019 · 155
I offered it to you
And everyone
When it was meant for me all along

Someone save me from my own understanding
Oct 2019 · 375
Generational Nonsense
The consequences of your actions
Are a burden I suppose I asked for
When I agreed to belong to you
When I offered you sanctuary in my arms

Yet tonight - they are so heavy
And I no longer wish to carry them
My legs are so tired darling
Please just admit that you were wrong

My legs are so tired darling
Break the generational chain that binds us to this nonsense.
Sep 2019 · 197
.Friday the twenty seventh of October at twelve thirty nine PM

-I am getting worse day to day, meaning that I am sad again. Real sad. Try anti-depressants even though they don't work sad. It's funny that I use that word since really it's empty that I feel . . . Or maybe hopeless. Call it whatever you want.
The thing about it though- is that I don't know who to tell. Half of everyone I know can relate which means no one even cares. I'm guilty of the same thing. "Just keep pushing it'll pass." Right? I love my job, my relationship is good, and we're financially stable. Nothing in my life is going wrong so I can't pass the blame onto some little problem. I spent nine hours cleaning my house on Wednesday hoping that I would feel better. I slept all day Thursday hoping that I would feel better. I wrote it down today hoping that I would feel better, but I don't. I don't feel better. Who am I supposed to call about things like this?

Not my sister because she's run out of things to say. There are only so many times you can be sad for no actual reason and expect someone to say something new. I decline therapy. It's expensive and I don't want to talk about a bunch of things that I've already gotten over, and pills? What are pills? I've been down that road and then down even further for . . ? Nothing. For nothing.

So what am I supposed to do when I'm carrying boxes and suddenly want to hurt myself? I've never been a cutter. Never been a burner. I want the weirdest kinds of pain. I want to snap a rubber band on my wrist or bite myself until I bleed. Crazy **** that doesn't make any sense to me. I work out everyday. I drink water. I bathe. I eat.

Honestly I'm really high functioning. I don't really spend a lot of time talking to other humans anymore, but I can chalk that up to losing my super empath powers I guess. I call it independence but it could just be exaustion. I'm so tired of self diagnosing. I can tell you what's wrong with someone else in thirty seconds flat yet somehow my own sadness continuously baffles me.

I guess it doesn't really matter. I'm not going to **** myself or do something crazy. I used to cheat on my boyfriend or let someone hit me during ***, but I've grown out of that kind of stupid behavior. For awhile I was writing essays about how to get through what I'm going through which were awesome for a lot of people but don't help me at all

Maybe I'm doomed to save everyone in the world other than myself. That would make sense since there's nothing I can do about my condition. If that's what I want to call it. So I guess maybe I'm just having a bad time.

I'm sure it will pass soon.
Sep 2019 · 122
So Fucking Sad
. . . Let me make this clear
I don't know why I'm so ******* sad
So ******* sad all the time
Self help articles and hobbies and pills
Never helped me
Never helped me at all
I've been sad half my life
But now I'm fine
Everything is fine
So what's the deal?
What's the deal
. . . Better . . .
Is it something real?
Because I don't feel it
It's a word repeated so many times in a row that it has lost its meaning
. . .
. . . Do you still love me when you are sleeping,
Then will I fit well in your arms?
All that anger you've been keeping,
With your eyes shut can it still do me harm?

I sit here beside you afraid to lie down,
My mind can't rest after everything you've said.
I'm afraid to wake you so I don't make a sound,
I'm not sure why I even came to bed.

I have given you everything but it's not enough,
I am so sad and I feel so alone,
I want to stay but you're making it tough,
I live here but I'm not at home.

Do you still love me when you are sleeping,
Or will you push me away.
Am I something you feel is worth keeping,
Or does it make me stupid to stay?

Do you still love me when you are sleeping
. . .
Sep 2019 · 254
The Rabbit
I am a rabbit
And every man in the world
Is a fox
An eagle
A weasle
A dog
A man
I may kick, bite, claw, scream
I may be the biggest rabbit
The strongest rabbit
The rabbit with the most fight
But I am a rabbit
And because I was born as such
The odds are not in my favor
This isn't a post bashing men or some kind of feminazi garble. This is the truth. Men are naturally bigger and stronger than I am. Almost all of them. Even when he play wrestles with me my skinny boyfriend who weighs 135 lbs can easily overpower my 160 lb mostly muscle frame. I am a rabbit and I don't feel safe.
Sep 2019 · 215
. . . Hit me . . .
I'm begging you for it,
. . .
Aug 2019 · 259
No Longer Certain
I am no longer certain
That you are the man I want standing beside me
As I lay my father in his final resting place


I am no longer certain
That you are the kind of man that my father
Would have chosen to care for me after he

Is gone

I am afraid
Aug 2019 · 309
The Ocean
. . . Forget not
That I am a ship
But you are not the ocean
. . .
Jul 2019 · 311
We Could Have Had
. . . Maybe if I learn . . .
. . . . . . . Another language . . . . . . .
. . . . From a different time . . . .
. . Meant for different people . .
. . . . . I could write
us . . . . .
. The love story we could have had .
Jul 2019 · 391
"You can't speak to him like he does to you. He is standing on the ledge darling. Speak to him like you would someone with a fear of heights - who's just begun to look down. That. That is how you love him."
Jul 2019 · 175
Save Him
. . . Save Him . . . Says the girl I used to be
. . . Save him . . . Whispers the brokenness inside of me

. . . Save Him . . . Echos on every breath I exhale

. . . Save Him . . . Scream the birds flying over my head
. . . Save Him . . . Weave the spiders into their webs

"He's not mine to save" I repeat with each step I take
"He doesn't belong to me" I declare to the sun every day break
"Save me from this temptation" I pray each night
"I can't love him" I cry when it's too much to fight

. . . Save him . . .  Commands the universe as it pushes me toward the edge

I just hope I can catch myself as I fall off the ledge
May 2019 · 166
Forgiving your Misgivings
Even when I think I
Should let you go
Falling asleep without
The rise and
Fall of your breathing
Is harder than
Forgiving your misgivings
Apr 2019 · 229
The Blood
Its like the blood brings out the sour parts of me
My mind wanders to the forbidden side
Where all the things I left behind seem to hide
I do well in my walk in the light
There's no temptation for my soft side to fight
Then I find blood and things start to change
I think of all the naughty things a few sentences could arrange
In all the things I know I find ways to conjure doubts
That tell me to throw away the thing I can't live without
And that's exactly why when I had the chance I ran away
Away from all the people and all the things they'd say
I'm finally planted firmly with roots deep in the ground
And no one is whispering about my secrets when I'm not around
So why does the blood bring so much poison to my mind
A million naughty thoughts, one of each kind
I'm not a liar. I don't cheat.
But the blood tells me to love every person that I meet.
God gave me a gift and my side of the bargain I will uphold
I'm strong enough to surpass pyrite in my quest for solid gold
This man is my today, my tomorrow, and my best friend
Which is why I will stay strong until the blood trickles to an end
Apr 2019 · 137
. . . "You are dusk on my horizons," I muttered, as I stroked the familiar line of his shoulder blade.
"I think you mean dawn," he scoffed, as he rolled away from me like he had one thousand times before.
"No . . ." I whispered at his retreating form. "Dawn brings the light. Dusk . . . Dusk steals it away.
Jan 2019 · 278
So Very Tired
There is no rest for me
Even at my best there is
No peace for me
There is a beast in me
But she's asleep, you see
I'm just so tired.
So very tired.
Jan 2019 · 443
Always pretend that you are alone
That way
When everything falls apart
. . . It's like nothing has changed . . .
Dec 2018 · 162
Here You Are
Once I thanked God
For the peace I found in being alone
So he stole away my solitude
And instead gave me a home
. . . And there you Were . . .
. . . And here you Are
. . .
Dec 2018 · 307
No One Else Ever Has Been
You weren't good to me
That's how it was destined to be
. . . I diluted myself for you
I spoke less and moaned more
I softened my spirit
I offered up yeses that once would've been no's
I held my tongue between *******
And wore pretty pink lace where there once would've been the blackest leather
I put fewer cigarettes between my lips
And instead pressed them together
To keep you from remembering
Why you didn't love me before
I put on an apron
To play my part
I served you smiles on dinner plates
And sipped white wine in place of whiskey
I put hearts in a lunch box
To keep you company through the day
Then mourned who I once was
While you were away

. . . I thought that if I was softer
More feminine
More pure
That you would be kinder
That I would fit better in your arms
That if I didn't talk back
My lips would taste sweeter
That you would listen when I spoke
I thought that if I became weak
We could be strong
That if slaughtered my Independence
And laid it to rest at your feet
That you would want to stroke my hair like you once had
When I stopped standing my ground
In the kitchen where I performed
And let the peanut gallery at the table
Critique my every adjective
Only to curtsey before their taunts
That when doors closed
You would whisper that I had done well
That your heart had space for me again
I thought that maybe if I hid it when I bled
You would leave the whiskey alone and finally come to bed

. . . But instead
I committed a ******
I killed the woman that I loved
I took a spirit and trapped it in a box made of yes dears and I'm sorries
By replacing her combat boots with pointe shoes
And her pride with warm baked cookies
I slit her throat with a knife made of compromises
Chained her ankles to the kitchen table and forced her to dance before lesser beings
I made an arrangement of the wild roses that made up her lips
And left her unprotected without any thorns
Then cut out her tongue and made her watch
in stunned silence
when you trampled through the garden with clumsy careless feet
I murdered the woman that I used to be
Sacrificed everything just to find that you never loved me
. . .

. . . But fear not, even the goldfish who lies belly up can swim again . . .
Nov 2018 · 201
Happiness has such a way
Of compromising
My art
Nov 2018 · 357
Little Rabbit
. . . Remember little rabbit . . .
You miss the moments, not
. . . The man
. . .
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