don't tell me about your first love-
tell me about your last.

tell me how he made you believe in love
when you thought your time had passed.

tell me how he made you feel
when you thought the butterflies were dead.

tell me how you tried silencing your heart
and all the crazy thoughts in your head.

tell me how he taught you
to love just a little bit again.

tell me how it was like taking your first step
how it was like to once more begin.

tell me how you thought your heart was dead
how you'd been hurt too many times before

tell me how you saw yourself falling for him
and constantly wanting more.

tell me how you thought you weren't worthy of love
tell me how all those thoughts vanished with one touch

a year, a decade, a century
how no time with him was too much

tell me how he excites you
how you're seeing colors you didn't know existed.

tell me how you finally gave in to giving love another chance
how you couldn't fight it, no matter hard you resisted.

tell me how you thought that love just wasn't for you
tell me how being with him makes you feel love is just for you.

tell me how the world seems just a little better
tell me how the grass is greener, the sky a little more blue.

tell me about your last love;
the one who really stayed.

how he's the missing piece of the puzzle
the one for whom you always prayed.

tell me about your last one
the one standing by your bed.

the one you hold on to a second too long
before you forever rested your head.

There I see stardust,
in your bright eyes,
spinning galaxies of grey,
while some might say they're blue,
though it's not for them to say,
& all I know right now,
is my sun has gone away.

As I'm your Mother Earth,
& you're my dearest Sun,
you're shining on my heart,
& my relief when days are done,
a satisfying feeling,
in the victories we've won.

I sometimes call you poppa,
as I rub your happy tummy,
guess momma done it right,
cuz I cooked you somethin' yummy,

You are the only magic,
my heart has ever known,
cuz I'm doomed without your light,
I cannot do it all alone,
I am weary,
I am tired,
I'm a quickly aging bone,

You taught me toughen up
say it ain't as if you're dying,

you seem like you don't care,
only sometimes when I'm crying,

I know that you do love me,
but I feel I love you more,
I'd walk across a fire,
& swim to distant shore
I know that it's the truest love,
in this I can't ignore,

Your heart is where my home is,
& I couldn't say it truer,
& I love you more tonight,
as my days are getting fewer,

I see you try to help,
you wouldn't just keep tryin'
it's not too much your sold on,
or them theories that you're buyin',

You helped me see the beauty
now please I ask see mine,
I'm not asking for your sympathy,
or to set up for me a shrine,

I only want your hand,
to walk with me awhile,
down the old back roads,
and then on the longest mile,
you are the ONLY one,
who can bring,
my happy smile.

Cherie Nolan © 2017

I never heard
myself cry out
loud. It was always
silent. As if you
never heard me.
As if you weren’t
even bothered.

“Stop.” She pulled back.  
“It hurts.”She contorted
“No." She pushed and in her
head she heard a voice—soft and
sinister. Not powerful enough
to be her own.
Relax,
baby girl,
relax.
It couldn’t have been
aloud. It was gentle and
intrusive and she hadn’t known
it was there. It stroked her
cerebellum, tickling
her larynx and falling
just short of a scream. She fell
just short of the bed and collected
herself among the sheets
and their refuse.

I never heard
her actions nor the motion
of her language.
She was silent always
and always screaming.

everything is meaningless and i
mean it. there's no point to this
there's no point to me there's no
point in existing other than to
breathe and love and make sense
of why we're here and
i'm sick of people telling me that the smart ones
are the sad ones
because i'm not smart,
i'm sick.
i'm vomiting up all the
feelings that are so overused
and overexaggerated that i cannot
tell what is normal or not
until someone informs me
that daydreaming
of slashing wrists and leaking
red when i
drop a glass of water
isn't normal. i used
to think everyone was
this way and i used to
think there'd be some
cure
to this, some magic pill
filled with stardust
and a tendency for
chemical codependency
that would make
me stop throwing up
all the feelings
bottled in the pit of
my stomach. (the
magic pill made me throw up,
just not the bad things. only
the good ones.) and
i can't stop thinking about
how everything is meaningless
and we are all here
and they are all there
and no one will ever
know one another completely
and that's not okay with me.
it's not.