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Dec 2014 · 428
Behind Death, Beyond Love
Adrianna Aarons Dec 2014
I am a step behind death,
Following slowly behind the blackness.
I am a step beyond love,
Leaps and bounds beyond what everyone talks about.

And I will die trying to stop that plane.
The plane that’ll carry you away,
Back over the rainbow, to your musical life
And sun kissed afternoons
I will die trying to hold you here.

I am a step behind death,
Heaven and Hell are leading me down.
I am a mile beyond love,
Feet and yards beyond what everyone else feels.

And I will die trying to keep you here.
The place you came to explore,
Foggy and rainy and lonely and empty,
With no sun or the sky to bid you welcome.
Just the girl that wants to trap you here.

I am right beside death.
The dark is helping me hold this airplane down.
I am mountains beyond love.
Treks and journeys beyond what everyone talks about.
Dec 2014 · 635
Song for Her
Adrianna Aarons Dec 2014
Tell the girl with the name
like a bird that you don’t think she’s crazy.
Tell her a boy will write a song
just for her someday.
And if you know he won’t,
if you think she’s insane,
just don’t let her know you think that way.

She’s seen the dark side of the moon,
the pits of hell ablaze, stared darkness
in the face and still stands here today.
Give or take a few things,
she’s still the same as she was three years ago,
so tell her a boy will write a song for her.
Even if you know he won’t.

She needs a lie, an easily-believed
snow-white lie. Tell the girl with the
name like a bird that she looks
beautiful today. That you’re so glad
she’s doing okay. That a boy will write a song
just for her someday. I can almost promise
she’ll believe it.

She’s not easily fooled, but when you’re
empty a little bit of hope can do the job
of getting you filled. So tell her you don’t
think she’s crazy, that the boy she’s been wishing
for all winter will come her way, and he’ll
write a song about being in love with her
someday.
Dec 2014 · 435
5:17am
Adrianna Aarons Dec 2014
I’ve been thinking about the first time I laid eyes on you,
I’ve been thinking about you way too much lately, if you ask me.
You don’t need someone like me,

You don’t need a weight to hold you down while you run from
The east coast to the west coast to north to south,
Waiting for you to return to me.
Dec 2014 · 458
Untitled
Adrianna Aarons Dec 2014
Picturing you with her is the hardest thing
because I know that she’s slowly helping you heal,
Helping you because I’m the one who broke your ******* heart.
And everything brings me to tears,
and I feel so helpless,
and I really need you here
But I don’t have anyone,
my only company are the demons.
Drowning me,
suffocating,
keeping me here,
with sleepless nights,
and wounds that won’t heal.
I know I broke you
but I want to be the one who heals you again.
Dec 2014 · 703
Anxiety Attacks
Adrianna Aarons Dec 2014
It’s all internal now.
You’re in a room.
No door,
no windows—
just four tall,
white walls.
The walls shake uncontrollably,
as if the earth were coming to an end.
What’s happening?
"Walls,
stop shaking,"
you say.
"That’s enough."
You wonder if you’ve ever had any control over the walls at all;
they don’t seem to listen to you.
Shortly,
everything will come tumbling down,
and you can’t do anything about it.
You sit and wait.

Suddenly,
through the nonexistent cracks in the walls,
waves come crashing
over your head and
down to your feet.
If a spark were to touch the water right now,
the room would instantly turn to ashes—
or so it feels.
You close your eyes,
hoping for an escape.
Yet you still know where all the water is,
simply by following the un-ignorable surge
that is felt across your entire body with each ever-growing hit of a wave.

Where are you?
Why don’t the walls break already?
And why aren’t you dead yet?

You open your eyes again
as you jolt awake in the middle of the night.
Your heart is pounding and your hands are trembling.
The beginning of the waves—
you’ve felt them.
Dec 2014 · 463
12:37am
Dec 2014 · 508
Do You Remember?
Adrianna Aarons Dec 2014
Do you remember those nights we used to share,
when the sunrise was our reminder
that it was getting a little too late.
And when you'd look at me and tell me
"you have so much to live for. and I love you."
And how we would hold hands all the time,
like a thousand earthquakes
and the wrath of God himself couldn't separate us.
Do you remember how we'd sing songs in your car,
like the summer breeze was a melody,
and it was our mission to sing it,
and the way we would finish each other's sentences by accident?
How I would stay up late writing about the stars I found in your eyes,
and the heaven in your hands,
because nobody had a way with words like you did,
and whether you admit it or not you knew your way around the pen pretty **** well.
And those fights we got in,
those glorious fights,
when we'd swear to god we hated each other
but we both knew we only wanted to be loved just a little bit more.
And how we fell in love so young,
and it was like water into wine,
from daylight kisses to hands on thighs,
and they always warn me about it
but I’d just say ***** it,
we're young because teenagers have a way to find such beauty in naivety.
Do you remember that day I walked through the rain,
and although it felt like a ******* hurricane
your touch warmed me up like a cup of hot chocolate on a snowy day,
and we'd always joke how I couldn't run a mile
but when it was to see your face
we both knew I could walk a hundred.
And we can't forget the first time we saw Marina & the Diamonds,
and we sang every word,
and you seemed scared to sing along
but I’d look over and see how into it you were.
I knew that once you spread your wings there was no way to stop you,
and you came running back to me with the biggest smile on your face
and I knew it'd be one of those moments we'd never forget.
And then there was that day
when I messed up and the scars on my legs
bled worse than they ever have before,
and you could have left me out to sting
but you opened your arms and held me and said
"it's gonna be okay.”
And you just held me.
And I know I bring it up all the time,
but you can't tell me you've forgotten the night we fell in love,
and my nervous hands were shaking
It was one of those moments that people sing songs about
because it only happens once in a lifetime,
and I still remember.
We’d walk under the night sky together.
And when we laid down into the grass,
we didn't even exchange a look;
it was like the stars guided us into each other's arms
and when our eyes met we lowered our walls
and all those years we'd been beaten down from the inside out disappeared,
and there was threat of an invasion,
that was clear,
but it was worth the risk.
And the second our lips touched,
it was like we were thrown into sea together,
left to fend for ourselves.
Us against the world.
Together.
And I'll always remember how we had to run back to your mom's car,
because we'd lost track of time looking at the stars,
and that ride home was the best of our young lives.
And I know we drifted,
and I learned how to be a **** up,
but you've always been able to read in between my lines,
and on the nights where there's nothing separating me between sleeping and siren lights,
I know that I'm a phone call away from my first love.
And looking back someday,
I hope you remember me not as
"that girl you were with for 16 months"
or the girl who took your virginity,
but "that kid who loved you with her entire heart."
And who still does.
Dec 2014 · 1.7k
Recovery
Adrianna Aarons Dec 2014
I think back to when everything was simple,
when he was alive and we were all whole
but then he broke us and we never fit back together.
Life used to be carefree
tentative smiles and excitement over coffee shops
and we all had so much potential
and drugs were the plastic bottles in our bathrooms,
taken with caution.
I think of how many friends I used to have,
and how everything has been superficial
since we all put ourselves in plastic boxes on unreachable shelves.
These days I have no motivation and I want to see the sun.
Happiness is as fleeting as the snow on the ground
before the wind sweeps it up high above the trees.
I used to be the snow, and I didn't care where I landed.
That's why I wasn't very surprised
when he took advantage of my innocence and unstable hold on reality.
But that doesn't mean that sometimes I don't still shudder
when people come near me,
or wonder if I look broken to them.
I remember his eyes,
innocent,
as they ask for forgiveness,
and I didn't have the heart to tell him
that he had taken the last thing that meant anything to me,
or that he was the last straw when I made that fateful decision last year,
or that I STILL wake up gasping from having nightmares starring him,
or that he causes me to stay up late into the night feeling completely alone.
That he stole my already feeble ability to say
"no."
But I'm wiser now,
so I forgave him even though his arms felt like needle ****** when he hugged me.
Recovery is long,
and some might say I'm not recovered at all.
It's been a year but I still think about death every day.
I'm in love, but I hate myself every second I'm not with him.
But none of that matters,
because now I know that I will always choose pain over oblivion.
I've found a delicate balance that can be destroyed by one gust of wind,
but I'm trying to be better,
and that's more than I've ever been able to say.
I don't want to say that a song saved my life
but the song is his voice when he tells me he loves me,
and the screams in my head when I don't want to continue,
because at least I know I'm alive.
Sometimes I miss the people who have left me and the girl I used to be,
but it's over now,
and it's best not to dwell on things that I can never change.
Because recovery isn't the number of days passed,
but allowing time to heal you.
It's allowing yourself to feel better,
because only you can give yourself that permission.
It's learning to love yourself,
and to accept everything in stride.
But most of all,
recovery is forgiveness.
Forgiving others for what they've done to you,
but more importantly yourself,
in any condition,
the way the shore forgives the tide
which leaves
but always comes back for more,
because the ocean loves the sand more than we can comprehend,
and that's how we should all love ourselves:
unconditionally and during all weather.
Dec 2014 · 966
3:02am
Dec 2014 · 744
The Day I Met Him
Adrianna Aarons Dec 2014
He moseyed on over to me,                                 I
stammered a shy
hello,

He smiled sweetly as my gaze                           fell
to his hands and wrists
where promises might show.

There was something about him,                      in
his eyes I saw something
broken, something dying inside.

I ached to fix him, repair him,                          love
him back to life, bring the fire back
into his eyes, make him mine.

We whispered a promise of forever,                with
his little finger wrapped around
my own.

I meant it, and I never did take                        him
for a liar, so I’m living three hundred
miles away thinking I’m not alone.
Dec 2014 · 4.5k
Everybody Knows Depression
Adrianna Aarons Dec 2014
Everyone talks about depression as if they know it.  
But what they don’t know
is that depression is a hooded figure standing just outside of a wooden doorway,
it’s feeling the blood dripping down your skin and having the sick thought of
“Oh, look how beautiful the red is”
Depression is lying on your bed for hours on end,
salt tracks lining your face like the scars on your ankles,
staring at your ceiling
tracing patterns in the paint and accepting death in life with this hole in your chest
because death is a reward,
an escape from this pain you deserve to feel.
Depression is writing sick poetry on skin and publishing it with scars,
cutting on ankles,
not wrists
because you’re scared you’ll get in trouble
but you so desperately need to be seen,
and never are.
Depression is writing the word “alone”
and seeing the word
“home”,
accepting the pain like a gift because you deserve it.
Depression is admitting suicidal thoughts to paper and not to people,
and loving the broken things,
hoping to tie them together,
thinking maybe things will get better,
but knowing that’s just wishful thinking.
Depression is hearing your mother call you monster and disgusting
through the too-thin walls of your door
when she thinks you can’t hear,
and then telling you to your face that you have no right to cry,
as if sadness is a privilege and you’re so pathetic that you don’t deserve it.
Depression is shutting yourself up in your room
and hearing your family laughing downstairs
because you feel like you can’t be a part of them
and learning at a young age to love family always
but that family isn’t always love
Depression is wanting to take
love and your heart
and break them into tiny little pieces and throw them into waves,
to throw them away
Depression is a foot when the shoe hasn’t been broken in yet,
is when you haven’t broken life in,
is seeing happy people and thinking they all look the same,
like the front covers of magazines
with smiles reaching their eyes when yours can’t.
Depression is wishing you could package your smiles
into tiny little piles and hand them to people more deserving of them
because you know you’re wasting them with half-assed lines of
“I’m fine.”
Depression is having to view your past
as if it wasn’t yours.
Depression is a hooded figure standing just outside
of a wooden doorway
and when you close the door out of fear
it keeps pounding,
possessive,
******,
and when you open the door out of anger you shout,
“I’M SCARED”
to thin air
but your voice comes out as a whisper.
Dec 2014 · 483
Thinking Now
Adrianna Aarons Dec 2014
I’ve been thinking about the first time I laid eyes on you,
I’ve been thinking about you way too much lately, if you ask me.
You don’t need someone like me,

You don’t need a weight to hold you down while you run from
The east coast to the west coast to north to south,
Waiting for you to return to me.

I will fight to be yours until my very, very last exhale,
Don’t doubt my feelings, darling, because they are much too real.

I’ve been craving those butterflies that bounced off the knot in my stomach
That very day when you smiled at me from underneath a halo of blue,
That very day when your eyes fell upon me and I caught my breath,
When you waved, smiled, sang, smiled, smirked for us all to see.

They’ve been telling me to take a breath between words, between thoughts,
I can’t get ’em down on paper quick enough.

I want to remember every little jump my stomach made
At the touch of your skin, at the sound of your name.
Oh, but now I’m thinking I should take a breath, before I lose it all.

Now I’m thinking, clear as I possibly can
With all those thoughts of you in my head,
That I should give everyone a break
From all the blushing and babbling about

You.
Wonderful, glorious, divine, enchanting, entrancing
You.

Hey, I said I’d give it a break,
But if I stop completely I may
Go even more insane.
Dec 2014 · 398
Barely Human
Adrianna Aarons Dec 2014
All I ask for is

a second or two of your
time
just a moment so you can read these
lines

I sit around, alone in this room
longing to feel
something close to feelings
something close to remind me
I’m human
    …I think

well, I got a heartbeat
and this heart
beats
for you

and I got two eyes to see
and all these eyes
see
is you

it’s just two more seconds
hate to waste your time
I just wanted to show
here on these
lines
written by someone barely human
being read by your beautiful blue
eyes
even people that are barely human
need someone they can call
‘mine’
Adrianna Aarons Dec 2014
If I could send a message in a bottle
Of every thought I’ve ever thought of you
It’d take a million years for you to read it
I bet I’d leave you speechless
Because I know that you’ve never doubted
Any love that’s true

If I could sail the ocean on a sailboat
I’d search around the world for you, my dear
I would even stop for a moment
Because you’re my one and only
And nothing would mean more to me
Than having you right here

I have this funny feeling that you’re waiting
Praying every night I’ll come around
Take you in my arms and give you comfort
Even though I was hurt
Because you took my heart into the air
And then dropped it to the ground

I wish that I would find you on an island
With nothing of your own but a cigarette
All alone and talking to no one
I will be your someone
Because I loved you at the darkest times
Just like the day we met
Dec 2014 · 380
Catalina
Adrianna Aarons Dec 2014
Feeling should be beautiful,
not so ******* painful all the time.
Dec 2014 · 656
The Other Night
Adrianna Aarons Dec 2014
He said,
“Well maybe I was just a distraction—a temporary happiness.”

I looked up with tears rolling down my cheeks and said,
“No, you were genuine. You're my sun.”
Dec 2014 · 590
Stay Alone
Adrianna Aarons Dec 2014
I want to be alone but at the same time I don’t.
I remember this feeling.
Seeing all my friends out and having fun,
wishing I could do that too.
Wishing I could be apart of it.
But my brain just panics and says
"No, you have to stay here."
I need to stay here.
I need to stay alone in my room.
I need to stay alone.
Adrianna Aarons Dec 2014
you don’t deserve to be here. you’re not crazy, your heart is just shattered to pieces far too small to put together again. i’m sorry.
Adrianna Aarons Dec 2014
They say high school is supposed to be the best four years of your life,
When you make memories that last a lifetime.
You know, something like high school musical.

Somebody forgot to mention that it doesn’t apply to those who don’t meet a certain criteria.
You must be this athletic, this smart, this talented, and this attractive to enjoy your ride for the next four years.

When I found out I didn’t qualify for any of the above I was already buckled in and already making my way up the hill,
And when on my way down, I wasn’t prepared for the twists and turns that were up ahead.

Self-discovery is a beautiful thing unless you’re surrounded by people who already figured out who they are
And aren’t capable of understanding that everyone else’s tracks are different
And through my journey friends came and went,
Cause I didn’t think like other girls did
I racked by brain trying to thinking about what I was doing wrong.

When the track got bumpy all the people that I loved had left me
And I was left to rebuild whatever was left of my crumbling state of mind
And I dug through the foundation to design a new self-image to try and save what was left of my confidence.


And I finally listening to that nagging voice in the back of my head
That when I looked down at my chest I was uncomfortable with what I saw
And when I looked in the mirror I wanted so badly to shed this skin I was in,
And the dysphoria was already beginning to settle in.

I was in a fork in the rode where I had to decide if I wanted to keep living a lie or realize this is not the real me.
Dec 2014 · 850
Trophy Father
Adrianna Aarons Dec 2014
The last time that I saw you,
you were being pulled through the front door by police officers.
I was holding my baby sister in
my arms and shielding her face
so she couldn’t see you reach for the beer bottle
sitting on the table in between
the entryway and your rocking chair.
You were being arrested but all you could think about
was taking
One last drink.
Not looking at your wife,
not looking at your eight and three-year-old daughters,
but looking at a half-empty beer bottle.

Now, honestly, do you still think of yourself as my dad?
Because if you do, let me ask you this.
Wouldn’t a father be there and support his kids?
Wouldn’t he be there to make sure her boyfriend gets her home
before curfew?
Or help his 10 year old with math homework?
(Although if you were here you'd know she's outstanding at it)
I mean, maybe that’s just me wishing I had a positive father
figure in my life,
but really, wouldn’t a real man try and step up for his kids?

How often have you pulled out your wallet
to show your co-workers
my second grade school pictures,
and my sister’s pre-school portrait?
And when they say,
“Oh, what cute little girls you have,”
what is your reaction?
Do you say, “Actually, these pictures are eight years old.
I haven’t seen my kids since I was being arrested.”

You’d think a father—
someone who’s supposed to care about you—
would be there
to get to know the children
that he took the time to create.
But instead, you’re spending your nights
with a TV dinner and a bottle of Sam Adams.
Obviously my memories with you are jagged scars.
I remember sitting in your lap
and holding your Bud Light
while you changed the TV channel from cartoons to sports.
I remember you throwing over the coffee table
and watching glass shatter on the floor
while yelling at me
because I accidentally spilled apple juice.
I remember crying in pain
because a girl in my tap class
stepped on my fingers,
and when you covered my mouth with your
cigarette stained hand
so my cries were muffled.
I also remember getting my first bruise.
I watched small and medium sized bruises form
on my arms and ribcage.
I asked my mom what they were and
if I was going to be okay.
I remember you arguing and defending your actions,
screaming that
‘you had a reason to hit me and kick me down a flight of stairs,’
in her face with a bottle of Budweiser in one hand
and the other around her throat.

You didn’t think I’d remember all that, did you?
You thought I would only remember the good things
that are obviously outweighed by the bad.
You didn’t think I would remember things that happened eight years ago.

Fortunately,
Allison had the pleasure of only seeing the end of it.
Yes, she grew up without a father a majority of her life,
but at least I had her face covered
from physically seeing you choose alcohol
over your family.

You need to know
that I don’t consider you my dad at all anymore.
I shouldn’t have to be the one to tell you
that you’re the one who messed up.
You should already know that.
Although,
I do need to let you know
that I have a boyfriend who loves me more than you ever did,
and understands why I have a problem with alcohol,
and understands why I sometimes flinch when he raises his hand.
He,
is everything to me.
But you,
are nothing to me.
You need to stop telling me that if
you came back, that we would be a
“happy family again,”
as if we ever were.
If you came back,
I’d have police ready to drag you
through the front door,
but instead of reaching for a beer bottle,
you’d be reaching for your
seventeen and twelve-year daughters.
Dec 2014 · 778
Opposites
Adrianna Aarons Dec 2014
Sunrise & Sunset.
Land & Sea.

Flowers & weeds.
Full & Empty.

Alive & Dead.
Beautiful & Ugly.

Sweet & Bitter.

Poetry & Prose.

You & me.
Dec 2014 · 600
It Still Hurts
Adrianna Aarons Dec 2014
I’m trying to write this poem but all I can come up with is:

I ******* miss you.
I miss every little thing about you.
I want to go home.
But you were my home.
And you kicked me out.

I’m trying to come up with all the things I’ve been wanting to say to you.


But all I can think about are the tears rolling down my face
And how you used to hold me and kiss my forehead,
Dry my tears with your sleeve,
And tell me everything would be okay again.

I was trying to forget you, so that maybe I could move on.

But then I found our box.
Full of pictures,
Movie tickets,
Love letters,
The “C+A” ceramic slab I made for you last year,
And the letter I wrote to you while I was in the hospital.

I was trying to forget you.

So I taught myself to be numb.
I learned how to shut everything out.
I convinced myself I didn’t care,
Not just about everything around me,
But myself too.

I was trying to apologize.

But you didn’t care.
Nobody cared.
Nobody wanted to listen.
Everyone had already given up on me.

I was trying so hard, and I still am.

But sometimes I wish I could wake up on the day I met you and start all over again.
Other times I wish taking those 15 Tylenol *** had worked.
Dec 2014 · 524
Untitled
Adrianna Aarons Dec 2014
you see him and think
god,
he is so beautiful
god,
everything about him is just
so
****
perfect.
nothing else matters,
his imperfections—
perfect.
his crooked teeth,
how sometimes he gets one or two
brown hairs on his chin
instead of blonde ones
how he ***** at opening up
how he ***** with giving compliments
none of it matters
because you see it all as perfect
just absolutely
perfect
you start seeing the waves of the ocean
in his diamond eyes
you start seeing flowers grow from
the hair on his chin
the brightness of the sun in his smile
you start to see him as the
most beautiful,
perfect,
human being.
then
you wonder if he was just an angel
and got his wings ripped out
maybe that’s why he’s so scared
of trusting people
of opening up
maybe that’s why he’s
got odd scars on his back
because his wings were
just
ripped right off
Dec 2014 · 1.3k
Breathe
Adrianna Aarons Dec 2014
She seemed so distantly broken.
Haunted shadows lurk in dark corners,
waiting for the slight curve of her smile,
the first sign of happiness,
to attack.
Crashing her world down around her,
I offer my hand to pull her out
of the familiar rubble,
scooping her up in my arms,
searching for safe ground
where the suicide bombers of depression
won’t be able to touch her.
Fear raged through her body
like fever and overdose.
Worlds spinning circles,
colors blurring
and behind
hazy eyes
shallow breaths.
Sticking graves into the tortured hollows
of the chambers of the heart.
She is limb against my body
and I know that standing will not
be easy,
but I am strong enough for you
to lean on.
The backbone that will keep you upright,
for I am one of the few
parts of yourself that you love,
and I have never needed you more.
A screaming ambulance arrives
and paramedics flushing
your veins full of
IV bags with hope.
Clearing the poison of your system left behind
by the touch of demons
who have been haunting you for five years.
But I have known you my entire life.
Small girl, curly hair,
chipped nail polish,
black eye makeup.
I can instantly recognize you
as myself.
Brought together by chance,
in a classroom used as a safety base
for life’s game of tag that kept hitting us.
About ready to quit,
we were offered the chance
to love ourselves and eachother.
And through that discovery, this game
became so much easier to play
once we can double team it.
Quickly developed a love
you do not find in romantic relationships.
A comfort that lies solely in the unbreakable
bond of twins.
Spilled secrets
over steaming mugs
of raspberry tea.
Late night talks and comfort food binges.
We no longer had to speak.
We told stories with our eyes,
and painted murals with mascara tracks,
and crimson tears washed down the drains
from our thighs.
Our weakest moments hitting carefully.
No shorts.
No skirts.
No dresses.
The truth kept behind stained bandages
tucked away in bottom drawers
quietly stuffing our ***** secrets into our laundry.
Red lipstick hearts
on mirrors and
X’s on the backs of our hands,
marking us discounted;
damaged goods.
Returned over
and over again
until insecurity was definite and hope
was a far off dream so
we stretched our clipped wings,
no longer able to fly so we
simply had to learn how to break
the falls.
So we tightened the screws on pencil sharpeners
so the blade couldn’t be extracted in a moment of
weakness,
then poured our heart and souls
into glasses and toasted to our futures.
I want to wrap you in laughter
and sing to you the soundtrack of
the best memories that we had.
You deserve this happiness
and tonight
you are alive
and you are beautiful
even if you don’t want to be.
So take my hand
and close your eyes.
Just listen.
I love you,
just breathe.

— The End —