Sometimes I cry so terribly that I have to stop myself before I **** myself
Just those moments when
I ebb into a saturation of grieving
I let myself
Unintentionally let myself
Until it’s difficult to draw breath because my throat is trying to follow my tears by retching itself from my chest
Always in front of a mirror
And while I watch my body tear itself apart I lock away the image and analyse the show
I’m at a theatre
And I’m performing
Practicing a part
And I start to write the script between my teeth before I have even acknowledged the grieving as my own for my mother
Who never reached forty
I create a story
And like any good book that grasps me in the depths of my empathy I can fall so willingly into its embrace but the moment I put it down I can accept that it’s reality is not my own
Just as I transform my gravity into stories that I can
To feel another day
To reminisce on the memory of pain
The fickle fluttering of apathy
Locked away in words
It’s my moment of artistic genius!
Please come bear witness to such a heartfelt sentiment
And let me pretend that it is not real
For as long as I can continue
Otherwise I don’t know if I can stop her from swallowing herself
The next time she cries
Words dance for
May you find
you didn't know
you were looking for.
It's not fair
that despite knowing
you will never love me back
all I can recall
is how you did everything
I said thank you after just one night because I knew that you would one day become nothing more than a beautiful memory.
How many times
can I message you
to see you reply
with one word
and still tell myself
maybe he's just busy
maybe he just doesn't like talking via text
maybe he's caught up working at the job he is so dedicated to
maybe he simply meant to say more but got distracted
he does that
maybe I'm making excuses
for a boy that doesn't love me
or care enough
to give me his time
or show an inkling of effort
everything is fine
How many times?
love can hit you
an unforgiving crunching of steel and glass
then ricochets in a confusion
of twisted metal
screaming down the highway
you had watched where you were heading
so that maybe I wouldn't be regretting
falling in love
with a car wreck
There's smoke in my eyes
I'm not crying
and practice speaking
the languages of love.
But I can climb mountains
In my mind and in the world.
I can build a fortress for my career
Where I am the nurturer of a thousand dandelions
Whose choices deliver a challenge that leave me breathless and my heart racing in exhilaration.
I can smash boulders with the force of palms pressed flat against desperation.
I can ask for help without being owned and I can give it without losing myself.
I can build, destroy, rectify, satisfy.
I can change my mind
And it isn't an issue.
There's "need" and then there's you.
You're the icing on the cake
And for the mean time I'll just watch my weight, thanks.