and here i am again
at the intersection
of pedestrian language
& old wives tales
swallowing gum
like 7 year memories
opening umbrellas inside
cause i can't seem get away
from all of this rain
i ******* with my left hand
cause i was told
back in highschool that
"it feels like someone else is doing it"
it gets me wondering
about the difference between
losing you and finding out
that some one else found you
or my sleep
or lack thereof
its starting to tear me apart
i keep having this dream
where you are in
an unfamiliar body of water
trying to wash my poetry
off of your hands
or the one where
something happens in my chest
every time you sit
on someone else's bed
i'm tired of feeling like something you've misplaced
but don't have the heart
to look for anymore
tired of you saying my name
like you're trying to bury it
i'm tired of wondering
if you can tell the difference
between the absence
of my voice & silence
the other day
i almost started sobbing
at work when a woman
asked me about
our equipment
i was explaining how
things come apart
and almost mentioned your name
it made me think
of how you used to say
things like "what would you do
if i showed up on your doorstep
one day?" now, i haunt
the windows in my house
i don't leave for weeks at a time
i sit on the porch like the dog
you didn't shoot behind the shed
the one that refuses to die
until you come home again
i told somebody once, that
you didn't even know
what my voicemail sounded like
i wonder if they thought
it was because you
are so important that i never
let it ring that many times
before picking up
or if you dont know
what it sounds like
because you've never called
you can't be the ****** weapon
and the search party
i'm tired of all the seats
to the ferris wheel in my chest
being empty
tired of your voice
being the one i look for
in abandoned places
that one sound i beg
to bounce back
down vacant hallways
i just seem to stand there
in all of that quiet
like someone looking for a mistake
on an eviction notice
so i guess the hardest part
isn't letting go
it's forgetting
you ever had a grip
in the first place
and since you've been gone
i wonder if when
you pushed yourself away from me
you used your left hand
so it felt like someone else did it

People often use the term "home is where the heart is" as reference that home is a literal place. That you can touch it, feel it, live in it and it's physically there. But I just can't seem to wrap my mind around that. Because my heart belongs to a home that isn't there in a physical sense. My home is the way you say my name and draw circles on my lower back. My home is built and structured in between your arms and in the crook of your neck. I've never felt more at home then when we are skin to skin and I want to pull you even closer. No my home is not a building, my home is you and that's where my heart will always be.

~

Painted in a corner

Smeared about the floor

Chants of lone forgiveness

Quiet in the war



“Deafening the sound of death”



Garden roses trampled

Broken stems abound

Wilting on the visions

Blooming losses found



“Petals of peace scattered carelessly”



Blood along the pathway

Eyes hid in the mist

Penning someone else’s name

On this lengthy list



“Alphabetical to the grave”



Standing from the shadows

Crossing battle lines

Reaching for the freedom

Voices loud can find



“Speak up children, your voices matter”



Put aside your weapons

Time has come to cease

The nation now has gathered

United prayer for peace



*“On our hands and knees we pray… send the evil far away”

Heaven and Hell,
I taste when i'm with you.

Heart as cold as ice,
yet warm like the grassy fields of the spring meadows.

You were the hurricane, chaotic and unforgiving.
But with every storm, lies a rainbow radiating every inch of beauty within.

Your mind beautifully balanced,
a mysterious blend of dark and cheery.

Your existence, like the gleaming rays of the sunrise.
Bringing new hope after a dark and cold night.

You are the bitter sweet of life.

1.) I will become engrossed in the written words of an author that grace the pages of my books and the words yet to be written as they collide over and over in my brain again and again until I am able to put pen to paper or my fingers to the keyboard and pour them out into works that flow from the very back of my brain to the (digital) ink on the paper

2.) I will strive to know your every thought and your every fear; your favorite coffee drink and your favorite store that ends in a vowel. though I will make no effort to allow you into the depths of my thoughts, to see anything deeper than the same bits and pieces of me that everyone else gets just from having their eyes scratch the service

3.) I’ll wake you up in the middle of the night with my panicked screams and heavy breathing as evidence that just because they left my life didn’t mean the nightmares did

4.) I am broken, though I won’t allow myself to seek comfort in your arms; no matter how understanding and welcoming

5.) I’ll never let myself believe I am deserving of the love that someone as passionate and affectionate as you could give

6.) I will cling to your side at all times, like a small child, for my own fear of people and my crutch to my anxiety

7.) When I somehow break and come to you, I will feel guilty; no one should be bothered with my problems but me. I could not force them on anyone as incredible as you

8.) I will apologize for every minor thing, be something that’s joked about or unspoken, for the thought that a tight grip on my waist and a name, anything besides my own, will follow

9.) I am afraid of relationships; I have a strong fear in putting my own happiness into something else. A sole beacon of hope and comfort and warmth that I have craved so long in darkness and the cold glare of my exes’ new girlfriends, for whatever they might have heard

10.) I’ll never feel like I give you enough, for someone like you will always deserve more than me

-  j. b. (march 20th, 2014)