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Calista Holden Dec 2017
she traced her fingertips,
along the frosted window;
soft gasps danced between mouths.

supple lips brush, sweep,
tenderness is exchanged;
in laps, for innocence in waves.

sheeps clothing, stiffined;
the frost embedded in its weaving.
bodies manifesting steam,
as alchemists.

mn.
11:30pm. 10/15/17
Calista Holden Nov 2017
creeping under fingertips,
**** licked in helplessness
Thunder down gnawed bone.
loosing senses
loosing intuition
loosing yourself as you find sharper pieces.
slit that noose around your tongue
youll find a leaky faucet,
dripping out demons.


are you still here or are you watching your heart beating.
Calista Holden Feb 2016
And i don't know how to feel. It's weird not loving you anymore, when I said I always would... The feeling is just gone. I'm sitting in the bathroom in A Hall, where we played with toilet paper and I wanted to kiss you but I didn't. My feelings are attached to my memories, but I'm so numb; I don't know what love is anymore. I hurt you, and it was just a continuous cycle and whirl wind of toxic energy. I see you in the hall and think of how much you used to mean to me, before you became someone I didn't recognize. It took so long before I could go through a day and not think about you, because you gave me up. You didn't choose me when I was all you wanted. And when he left you I suddenly became relevant, I suddenly became worthy of you. And I hate myself for having loved you. Nothing makes sense. the fact that all I know is sadness really scares me, but it's also comforting; I'm used to sad. If you're sad it's a nice surprise when you get happy, if you're always happy it ******* ***** when you're sad. And I think I was expecting happy when you came back to me. When we decided to be friends again and I guess that's where I ****** up, ya know? it was my fault thinking happiness was on the road. I set myself up for disappointment.
Calista Holden Feb 2016
I'm sorry but my brain wont stop drumming, I don’t want it to happen, I don’t want it to end your balloon is on my screen and I don't want you gone. Ive let it get unhealthy. I have another part but your balloon won't leave my screen.
It's racing and drumming and the dam is breaking, my lungs are hollow. Don’t leave. You stop the pounding. Please leave you make me hollow. Kiss me. But it will ruin so much. I'm happy So right. Pieces found after so long. I never felt this torn. I hate myself for it.
I feel it again, the drumming wont stop. I'm spinning and its been so long. Was the dark just a phase or the light a mirage? My head is drumming and the band is catching on. The tempo's picking up and my brain is eating butterflies and hitting baseballs.
Nothing is wrong you don't want me there. You want her and the base starts to go, the colors are flashing now and the dark puddles are forming.
I hate you. I don’t undertand. Just leave me alone. I don’t want your handwriting on my paper. And the crowd is cheering too. The panic is in my bones and I want my mood ring to change. It's dark, sitting on navy and I need you gone. But he doesn’t want me there and you can't keep me safe. All I want is clarity. The drum solo is starting.
It's banging in my veins. This one's worse but I cant feel my feelings. I keep wanting for you to say you want me there. And I just want her to give me my paper back.
The drumming, the base, the crowd, the tempo increasing, and my veins are bursting. Just give me my paper back. I don’t want it to smell like you. I don’t want your handwriting
I miss my beautiful chaos. I was safe no drumming. She wanted me. He doesn’t and the balloon was never mine
I never felt my panic leave my hands. The graphite squiggle is almost drowning.
Holden. Catcher. Supposed to take notes but I cant stop if I do they will see the drumming. The crazy
And the balloon still has my paper. Chapter1 ******* I want it but I cant ask for it back. I don’t need your help,your pity. I need my chaos, my comfort. Student. Student. Bell. Ringing. Stop. The drumming. Give me my paper back. Mom text me. You understand. Make the drumming stop. Sarah. I need juniper. Bleeding myself dry. My, hand is the drum. The words wont stop and I need help
I need help
I need help
I need help
I need help
I need help
You're nothing, the drum beat is beating you down.
Categories
Vegetables
Fruit
Cars
Words
Wont stop and now it punching me. I don’t think I want you I want her and the balloon still has my paper.
******* too. 11:47
Feelings are ******* nothing and my honestly means ****.
dont curse. Youll spiral and I hate the drumming, not a beat, thumping punching chaos. 40 minutes of panic. Mud cares. I don’t need help. I hate you. I let you go, go away. I don’t want your pity
I love you
No one knows. Feelings ripping my skin im bleeding out. 5 minutes.stop.stop.stop.stop. I don’t want this, please the tempo is unnoticeable and my skull is cracking. Give me my paper
5th page? Crazy; still escaping. I have my paper back. I hate you. You ****** up. No I did. No ones fault. Lies we both know you blame me, its my fault. Take days. Run away
North Carolina. Always. Just called me. Drum is slowing. I still miss you foxing. You love me. I don’t know how to feel cause you ******* me over I ******* you over. I wish. I wish. I wish I wish. I wish.
To stop. Be there for me. Love me. Want me.
Want me, want me
So hard. Still craving the inevitable. Never wishing for unknown. Never surprises, and the lights dim.
Im sorry, im sorry, im sorry.
And the drum stops
It wont stop and im sorry. Im so sorry. I wish I was more I wish my head was less. You don’t want me there
Stop crying, breath, don’t think.
Stop. stop
Calista Holden Feb 2016
It's a lamp.
standing directly to the right of the t.v.
the wrapping is still on the shade
I don't think it's ever been plugged in.
it just always stays there.
never leaves me.

Still a lamp when
the wreck is in the present.
when
rubber
hits
      frozen
            water
       over
granite
Still a red lamp

Still standing directly to the right of the t.v.
tubes
plastic, flimsy, smooth
pumping, pumping, pumping
toxins; fluids; oxygen

The wrapping still on the shade
coaxed down your throat
through your sinuses
nutrition through your nose

i don't think it's ever been plugged in
you're plugged in
you're plugged in
you're plugged into the wall now,
you're plugged into the circuit board

it always stays there
electricity feeding you
and your limbs are cold
lifeless
lifeless
you can't move

never leaves me
I see you everyday tubes; plastic, flimsy, smooth. pumping. pumping pumping; toxins, fluids, oxygen. Coaxed down your throat, through your sinuses, through your nose. Feeding you through your nose.

Standing directly to the right of the t.v.
                       still a red lamp

please don't leave me....
My boyfriend of three years was in a car crash, he hydroplaned over ice. he was in a coma for two weeks. He just died today 2/12/16
i`ll always love you jarod
Calista Holden Nov 2017
go find a hiding place
while i hack up the pieces.

falling off the deep end with
bruised knuckles;
skinned, bleedin.

shove my hand in the bag we are keeping the matches,
inhale the sulfur,
then bathe in the ashes.

the wolves are coming here
baby
youll want to hide soon.

screams will be echoed,
bouncing off the moon.
Calista Holden Feb 2016
I'm always apologizing. Even when it's not my fault, and that takes a lot of energy, I miss you but I don't want you back. I miss the person you were, how honest you were with me. When we didn't give a **** about anything. I'm sorry I never held your hand in the hallway. I should have done so many things. I needed you in my life I have no doubt you were supposed to be a part of me for some time. If we had never met, I wouldn't be who I am. And I think I like myself. I'm sad. I am really sad. But that's okay. I know i'll be okay soon. I hate myself for hurting you because I know part of the reason you are who you are is because of the pain I caused you. That's the scariest thing about relationships; you can change the other person. But i think without each other, we would both be in such a worse place than we are now...
*
Calista Holden Nov 2017
i hope one day, someone slices your fingers.
        madolins them like
onions.
and they cut through your Bones,
and don't stop till your hands are
gone,
just big Knobby wrists on
arms.

— The End —