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Becca Sep 2014
I know, I
I’ve thought it before, I
You’re right, of course

Choke on my words
Choke them back in turns
Fumbling with my twisted tongue
To spit out the right lines
Only what’s right
Only my throat closes them down and

Yeah, probably
I should yeah, I should

Muscles clench and spasm at the thought
Never once made to move quite like that
Practiced at avoidance
Pro at backing down
Not even yet a novice at self-help

I’ll let it pass, I guess
See if things change, I
Don’t want to rush

Know six years is hardly rushing
But **** it’s worked before
To batten down my hatches
Close off the heart of my mind
Choke back, choke back
Clench, hold, avoid
Rush, rush, away

I know
You’re Right
Becca Feb 2014
She wonders
(more often then she'd ever admit)
Whether it might be worth it
(and she quietly believe it might)
To shuffle of this mortal coil
(perhaps earlier than she'd planned)
If only to escape responsibilities
(as she's dreadfully selfish)
And wonders how it is
That's she's kept herself so far
Tied to the ground
(Though honestly she knows)
Vanity, vanity
Becca Feb 2014
More often than not
my feelings manifest like the notes
of songs I have ingrained in my skin
and to find the words
that translate the way anger and sorrow and…

I don't even have the words for emotions
I don't understand them
beyond their most basic of means
I don't know how to say I'm so mad I could….
but I know what it sounds like

If asked how I feel
I can feel the motion in Piano Concerto No. 1
that means my skin is tingling
my heart is beating faster then
that drum roll Jukka plays and just as fiery and just as raw

It's never come naturally to me
to discuss how I feel
my instinct is to make someone listen to a song and tell them
right there
that note
that tremble in his throat
the way those chords interact
That's what I'm feeling

perhaps one day someone will hear it too
doesn't really read like a poem
but meh
Becca Feb 2014
Why the feeling of nostalgia
when sitting in an airport on your own for the
how many times is it now?
well this is the last at least
for awhile

What can I miss when I chose
on my own
to leave this place behind, is it regret?
or the natural progression of emotion in events you can't control
but I'm in control, I am, I'm in
this motion half between happy and apathetic and
**** why'd you have to make me miss it here
and I haven't even left

Nostalgic for nothing
for what I chose to forego for myself
for the people, though few, I'll miss and mourn
for the culture for the music for the body
that no one else will quite understand

How many 'you had to be there's
how many 'I guess it's only a thing there's
how many times will I look at art
look at rocky, horror
look at a cynic and think
'**** what have I done'

It's an in-between kind of emotion
that will pass I have no doubt
pass and leave room for a chance I'd never get to take
but **** the in-between
**** the waiting
Goodbye Novos
Becca Feb 2014
Half a breath
always enough just to keep relevant
enough just to keep alive
but never to offer it up for you
and I watch as someone else exhales
the life you need

and I can keep breathing by your side
as long as I have my
half a breath
but I just can't quite seem to catch
one whole enough to offer you
what you need

Half a breath
like many others
is all I have
so I'm forced to let someone else
fill your lungs
Becca Jan 2014
I didn't notice that I'd touched the ground
until I began to take my steps
in time with all these feet that I thought
I would never quite catch, yet
here we are in pace
and I can feel the earth under my soles almost always
for the first time
in awhile

and though the nights still make me anxious
as midnight chimes I fear I've lifted off again
each night
like clockwork
makes me anxious
so far the daylights waken me once more
grounded me
and ever forward I can move

Becca Jan 2014
dizzy, dizzy
walked in the cold and now
so dizzy, dizzy
what's it like to walk and sway
on your way to the shell in
the night and maybe trip a little but
not have to
worry, so dizzy

pleasant chatter at the locked up
door, **** two nice old guys
whats it like not to have to
doubt, keep two paces back
spilling words, smiling, sharing
doubting what's it like not to
feel so dizzy

voodoo child, diet coke stomach
wind bit cheeks and a pack of
**** I don't need just for a
breathe of air in the night to not feel
so jealous and hopeless
and instead there's cold
and cold
and fear
and judgement
and cold
and dizzy
straight up don't even know with this one, don't mind me.
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