Andrea

Andrea Jul 2013

And I finally saw it.
I saw the sadness that you drugged
and *******, and locked away.

I saw it finally break free and escape.
It frantically ran screaming,
hoping that someone would hear.

You chased it after a while,
but you eventually let it go.
Dropping to the ground, you waited for the punishment.

Andrea Jul 2013

I Find

more beauty
in the written word,
than on a poorly edited portrait.

I fall back
into my lengthy yarns,
opposed to the hugs of those around me.

I can see more of you
on your napkin doodles,
than watching you through binoculars.

Andrea Jun 2013

Family

Another slam, a broken door.
Mom doesn't love dad anymore.
Daughter's crying on the bathroom floor.
Son is a basketcase, his spirit tore.

Andrea Jun 2013

Fingers

down her throat,
wrist deep.
Tickling her tonsils,
she groans because she can't.
Once, twice,
third times the charm.
Heaving and choking,
a pitiful amount of the night's
feast drips out before her.
Looking at what she gave back,
she sighs.
Wiping the tears from her fat cheeks
she tries again,
but to no avail.
She stands because she
know she can't anymore,
wipe more of the tears away.
"I'm disgusted." She says as
she looks in the mirror
and stares with her bug eyes.
"I'm disgusting."
And with weary eyes she glides
to her bedroom, refusing to
let her hands touch her body.

Andrea May 2013

I'm Lonely

But I don't think you realize
how lonely a person can feel
sometimes.
I roll out of bed,
alone.
I walk around with others around me
but feel isolated, and out of tune.
I hate all of you.
And I sit at home alone dreaming
of something that's ridiculous
and juvenile,
but it eats away at me because
I can't have lovely things.
Can't I have a hand to hold sometimes?
Lips to kiss my forehead and whisper
sweet nothings to me while we lay
in the darkest of night, wide awake?
Maybe a heart for me to hear beating
when I rest my head against your chest.
Someone to bring the broom when I crumble
to tiny little pieces.
Just someone to keep me down when
I can't stop shaking.
Hands and fingers, to grace my skin
with their prescence.
But I can't have that,
because lovely things are
just out of my reach.

Andrea May 2013

Can You

please listen;
because now I'm screaming
for you to just look at me.
And now you're looking,
but I can't seem to meet your gaze.
I can feel your hands
grabbing and ripping at my skin,
peeling back every layer
of me.

Andrea May 2013

I Can Be Strong

you didn't give me the key
to your heart.
It's fine,
I'm a fairly decent locksmith.
And instead of floating in the sea
of blue in your eyes,
I just drowned.
My little boat almost didn't save me.
The warmth of your body next to mine
just scorched and burned me,
so I showered in a waterfall of aloe.
Your kisses peppering my shoulders,
turned into knives stabbing my damaged skin.
And out of nowhere, I pulled out some bandages.