Morgan

Morgan Oct 2016

I'm sick and tired
And I know you're
Sick and tired
Of the details

I promise
From the bottom of my heart
I'm trying my best
Not to fall the **** apart

Nothing happens over night
But if nothing changes
I won't make it

You keep calling after midnight
And asking for forgiveness
But I'm the one who did this

I'm the one who did this

And I've been sleeping in
But not actually sleeping

And I've been asking questions
I know the answers to
Just hoping
One day it'll be different

I'm waiting on the edge of my seat
For the exact moment
When I realize
I've definitely ****** this up...
It's always on the tip of my tongue,
Just a breath from slipping,

I will hurt myself
Bending over backward
Not to hurt you

And it won't matter
Because we'll both
Curse ourselves to sleep
In separate beds
Anyway

I've tried everything
To get you out of my head
Since the day I met you
Because you are in the south
And the west is always whispering
Sweet nothings in my ears

But you're always
In my dreams
No matter what
I take to get to sleep

And I wake up disappointed
Every morning
I wake up disappointed

Morgan Oct 2016

Frost Bite

I'm going back to Florida because
I can't bear the roads that raised me,
The way they seem to sink into the soil
A little more every year,
And how they're littered with all of our mistakes,
Half smoked cigarettes dancing in the wind,
This isn't where I thought I'd be at 22

I didn't say goodbye the last time I left,
Because it wouldn't have been for you

I'm the one who fell into the hole you created
When you smashed your fist into the wall
And told me I wasn't strong enough
For anything at all

You never even stumbled
You leaped over it
And never went back
To throw roses down in it
Or ask for forgiveness

You're better at leaving
Than I am at living

But I'm going back to Florida;
There's a boy in Orlando
With eyes bluer than yours
are even when you cry
And he doesn't
Think the anxiety in my spine
Is too acidic to touch
He runs his fingers up it
All of the time
And he's not afraid
Of the way my lips shake
When I start to break
And he doesn't look away
When he tells me he's mine

The cold in the north
The warmth in the south...
It isn't just the weather

The kids I grew up with
Are angry
And drunk;
The town I called home
Is frozen from the inside
And I've been frost bitten
One too many times

Morgan Oct 2016

Idiosyncrasies & the Bar Scene

I didn't ask to be like this,
Sitting on a bar stool in south Philly,
Hoping no one notices the water in my fist
Because I don't drink,
And I can't decide if that matters

I didn't ask to be like this,
Counting tiles as I walk through them,
Hoping no one notices
the concentration in my teeth,
Because I can barely breathe,
And I can't decide if I want to

Liking the rain doesn't make you interesting,
it makes you half-past 20 in northern PA,
And saying whatever is on your mind
doesn't make you edgy,
It makes you obnoxious...
It makes me think just maybe
You talk a little bit too much,
And tequila shots don't make you brave,
They make you sound like an 18 year old,
Just as lost, just as confused, just as scared-
But less articulate for sure,
Your matte red lips aren't deep,
Your matte red lips match mine
& every other woman in this ******* bar,
I didn't come here to talk about acid trips,
Or the hypocrisy in your politics,
I didn't come here to make friends,
Ever think I just wanted to sit?

I haven't spoken a word out loud
In six weeks and three days,
So I'm sorry if my voice shakes

I don't go outside for much anymore
So I'm sorry if your blinded by my complexion

I work at a nursing home
And I'm nearly as dead
As the patients,
The failure in my brain
Is a little different
But I'm equally exhausted
By my inadequacies

Without a lack of trying
I'm begging for the strength
To slit my own throat,
Because I don't feel like
Showing up for an other day

My diagnosis is a list 6 pages long
Full of initialisms that
end in the letter "D"
For Disorder

And I promise my tattoos
Are not an invitation for conversation,
So don't look so confused
When I get up and walk away
From you

I keep telling my boyfriend
Not to fall in love with me
Even though I've been
In love with him all along

I keep telling my boyfriend
To protect himself
Because I've been on my way out
Since I turned sixteen,

I say,
"I never thought I'd make it to
twenty-two, but please remember
I didn't stay to be with you"

I'm always trying to save
Bright eyed people,
Full of swirling galaxies,
And light
From the way I seem to
hallow them out,

I'm sorry I stayed in bed
With the tick inside my head
Again this week,
Don't forgive me

Morgan Sep 2016

Bruises

I swear with all my heart
Every boy I've ever loved
has wanted me to hurt

He set up a picnic
over the rail road tracks
just to watch the weight
of the train crush
my ribcage

And he laughed when
I asked why he'd do that...
Why he'd pretend that
this was lovely,
all the while knowing
that it would be ******

He laughed
and the butterflies
in my stomach
danced to the beat
of the breath between
his ivory teeth

And then I wonder why
pain is comforting,
And I wonder why
I feel alive
only when I cry

He said,
"This won't hurt a bit"
And then he ripped
my arm from the socket,
As I swooned over the
touch of his hand over mine

I said,
"I don't wanna be in agony"
And he said,
"Then stay the hell away from me"

And I could never decide
Which would cause more injury

Morgan Aug 2016

Northern Lights in a Southern Town

Smoking a cigarette,
With my knees touching the ocean's edge;
A display of life and death-
The shortness of my breath,
Over the vastness of the ocean

All at once
The world seems
So small,
Captured in the filter
Between my finger tips,
And yet,
So big,
I can't imagine
All of the people
Looking into
The same sea as me

That's how it felt to
Fall in love with the right person
At the wrong time

Like certain death
And endless potential
Without gravity,
And anchored to the ground
In the same night

Like roaming aimlessly,
The entire universe
In front of me,
But hitting a brick wall
Before I even got
To see the sun set

I can't tell anymore
What was real
And what was hopeful,
If we are star crossed lovers,
Or two depressed kids
Who couldn't hold it together,
Not even for each other

Is there more to this than
You've let yourself believe?
Or, are you right?
Was it just wrong?
Does the space between us
Even need to exist
To keep us apart,
Or would we be in separate beds
Anyway?

Morgan Aug 2016

Sink Hole

Blowing kisses to the Carolina's,
I have a migraine that won't give.
I thought if I took my body
955 miles away from your body,
I'd lose interest in the contents of your soul,
But I was wrong again.
It feels like I'm wrong all of the time lately.

And I keep telling boys with pretty eyes
and traditional tattoos that
I love them,
and I wanna believe that I do,
that I'm even capable of loving
any man that isn't you,
but somewhere in the back
of my skull,
hidden under the debris
of every foundation I tried
to build over the memory
of your chest,
there is a sink hole
that I keep pushing them into.

I kissed a boy with black grease
on his finger tips, tan skin,
and big brown eyes.
For a moment I thought
I wouldn't mind
taking care of him.

But I woke up in the middle
of the night,
his arm slung over my rib cage,
his dreaming breath against my neck,

And I didn't wonder what
the pictures behind his eyelids looked like
or what his voice sounds like first thing
in the morning when there is still a bit
of sleep caught in his throat.

I just squirmed out from under his touch,
rolled over to face a white wall,
and wondered if you were lying on your back
starring into your ceiling,
Or eating chicken wings at
the foot of your bed.
I smiled to myself for a second
imagining you smoking
a blunt in the driver's seat of your
beat up SUV,
looking into the stars longingly.

And then I swung my feet
onto his unfamiliar vinyl floor
and slipped into a bathroom
down the hall.
Splashing cold water against
my flush skin
to shock the pain
out of my forehead.
Shivering to the image
of myself staring back at me
in a bathroom that I didn't recognize,
I wondered if I'd ever
get your fingers out of my spine

I hate who I am
when I'm pretending
not to miss you

But I hate who I am
but I hate who I am
I hate who I am

And I miss you
I really really
miss you

Morgan Jul 2016

February panic that lasts all year long;

How much liquid must collect
in one space before we call it a flood?
Cause the current's picking up
on me & no one seems to notice

Have you ever felt
your ribs shifting
around inside of you?
No pain,
just an acute awareness
that you are in fact
nothing more than
a contrivance of instruments
working together to exist,
To live,
To stay

That's kinda how it feels when
you're trying to catch your breath
but the oxygen can't find your lungs...

It feels like
Knowing

Knowing
that you are
Fragile

And there's fear
but it's quiet---
muffled like
your wheezing

When he left that morning
I actually felt his absence,
In my hands-
The emptiness was tangible
For the first time-

I reached for the back of his shirt
and he shook me away before
I could pull him into me

His cheap detergent
left a starchy film
on my finger tips

And I knew
that was the last time

Like when the faucet runs cold
Before you're finished bathing
- You feel ***** all day

I felt ***** all day

I just want to know
Less

I don't want to be so
Full of all of this

He smells like
salt water
He smells like
cherry incense
He smells like
soft cologne
And
a lit cigarette
He smells like
fresh winter air-
His skin is warm
But his kiss is cold

I couldn't
Stop
The drifting

I couldn't
Stop
The wandering

I couldn't
Stop
The leaving

He was never
Going to
Stay

Why am I like this,
Still to this day?