Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
It's not enough to take the world inside of you and turn it into something different.

There are
small holes in the fabric of your reality.

Cut open by little pieces of glass you
refuse to pick up

The clutter builds
You are clutter

Somehow it's not enough to melt it down and turn it into jewelry. No one would buy it,

and you'd still be you anyway.
If it were possible to fill balloons with feelings like water, I'd drown you in the past. I don't think I would hesitate. I'd fill a pool and hold you under until the bubbles stopped.

Not as a reminder, just to make it easier to be someone.

If it were possible to use vacuums to remove memories, youd have been thrown away a few years ago. Sitting in a landfill with other disappointments, turning into toxic sludge and polluting the memories around you.

The air would fill with your noxious odor. The clouds would **** you up and rain you out into an ocean where you'd be lost in a sea of fragmented homes.

If I could wrap pain up in a blanket and nurture it back to good health, I'd remind it of what you were never capable of doing. Let it grow old and remind it that it doesn't have to be what it feels, watch it die as happiness you never helped me with.

I shouldn't be bitter but I can't be complete and I wonder if it's because of you or because of what I can't let go. I know my mistakes but of all the terrible things I am…

You're the only part of me I wish I could get rid of.
67 · Apr 2020
NPM, Day 3: Before Sun
Open your eyes and forget
for just a moment

Before sun settles into the Iris
Before long yawn and breath

Eat the day like you are someone else

Bite down bitter and cold on memories that won't leave you
shatter your grin to forget

Leave a long hopeless sigh under the covers,
scrape against the blanket sky and leave pockets for seeds of hope

But leave here and remember

So don't leave here,
keep digging into springs to bud your blossoms again

To grow backward into dreams and
away from what exists

Let your bindings be your grave,
soft and suffocating of your time

But…

Dig yourself out and remember what
sunlight tastes like

Bask in pain and allow petals to bloom and die
from your skin

Heave sighs like old memories into
a plot of open land

Grow future and hope,
far away but just under your feet,
rooting beneath your toes to become abundance

Grow away from your misery

Stand some day beneath shade you,
tender and loving,
have watered

Reach toward the weakest limb
and dangle yourself

Become sweet and juicy,
become ripe for something new,
become a seed for new hope

Become a seed
66 · Apr 2020
NPM, Day 6: ping
We've been in constant distraction for a while. I keep feeling it, the rolling wave of forgetting. I think it's necessary though,

A way to skip over the days that feel like drowning in thunder.

and I know I'm not the only one that has felt this weight...that moment when you get lost in your joy for a few minutes before snapping back to the thought,

Before the light from outside catches your eye through

a crack in the blinds.

We all feel it differently though, maybe the blinds are open. Maybe the window is letting the breeze in. The kids are confined to the front yard.

Or maybe there's no light

just a gentle reminder from under the covers that time is passing
and hope is
not really
here.

I think we experience it differently but it's still the same

ping.

Our natural alarm sounding softly,
waking us up and letting us know we are,
all of us are…

not really
there.

— The End —