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Lost Aug 29
Yupo paper
Shredded and
Tangled into
A mess

I tried
To make
It look
Pretty but

It is
Only what
I have
Made it
To be

I carved
Intricate patterns
I folded
And crimped
Protruding pieces

I wanted
To see
Beauty in
What I
Had done

But I
Only saw
The mess
I have
Become
I originally wrote this 7/28/20
Lost Jul 26
I feel like a Polaroid picture of myself
I feel like I’m a fading still image of a person from the past

I feel like there’s pieces missing to my puzzle
I feel like wholeness will never be an option

I feel like the Blues Clues dinner plate that was broken
In the midst of a fight between my parents
I feel like I’m still crying at the kitchen table
Quietly, so they won’t notice

I feel like I’m standing outside a circle
And I feel like even if I were let it
I would push my way out

I feel like I’m reading the same sentence
Over and over without it registering
I feel like I’m reading a whole book
Just to start it time and time again

I feel like these books don’t make sense anyway
I feel like there’s pages ripped out
I feel like there’s chapters pasted in where they don’t belong
I feel like some of them are written in dead languages
I feel like I’m not meant to understand

I feel like an active volcano under the sea
I feel so much fire inside of my body
It spews out into ocean waters
And remains unseen
I am the only one
Who will feel my heat
Lost Jun 23
I can’t hear anymore
Tilted head
Question mark eyes
Looking at lips
Meeting and parting
Looking at teeth
Waxing and waning
Peaking in and out
Behind pink curtains
Wondering why
I can see the words
With my eyes
Bubble letters
You spat out
Unceremonious
They fell on the ground
Alphabet soup
You’ve spewed from your mouth
Scrambled egg syllables
Writhing around
Garbled rhetoric shaken through air
Rattled right past me as though I’m not there
Catapulting through my ears
Sound waves echo but I do not hear
I see through empty words
I see you and choose to leave you unheard
I see actions that speak so loud
That the ******* spewing from your mouth
Is completely drowned out
By the righteous sound
Of a page flipped
Of a chapter ripped
Straight from binding
Of the book you were writing
Of the knots you were tying
Or the roots you were growing
My home is not with you
Sanctuary is knowing
The distance between me and you
Will forever stay as true
As the core values
I hold myself to
We all have lapses
In our virtue
But our character is
The way we react to
Each mistake we make
And you choosing to feign
Ignorance and deflect blame
Shows me your resistance to change
Is something that I will not take
Along with me as I make
A life for myself I do not hate
I am not perfect but I never said I was
I’ve been accountable for when I’ve ****** up
As for you, you have chosen to run
It’s been so long since you’ve looked back
I wonder if you still remember what it’s from
I don’t write much these days, but when I do it doesn’t make much sense to me.
Lost May 27
Am I really so empty?
Dried corn husk
Brittle leaves curved
Around negative space

The fruits of the earth
Long plucked away
Leaving nothing
But open air

But where did it all go?
Rows of pearly yellow
Crowded parts
Bursting and vibrant life

Gone is not the right word
Consumed is not either
Departed comes to mind
But it doesn’t fit right

Maybe the change is not a death
Maybe it is a birth instead

A husk is not the same
Without it’s core
But it is
It is

Born again I am new
This skin walks hollow
This skin walks full
I am not empty
I am the sum of my parts
Wholeness is perceived
And pieced together
Intentionally

I am the sum of my parts
Past and present
Intertwined so tight
The seams meld into one

Clay raked from wet ground
With my clawed hands
The weight feels the same
Balanced in my palms

Interlocking fingers
Press one heap of clay
To the other
Ooze leaks from gaps

Husk or whole
Both are parts
When clay palms collide
It’s impossible to just see
One or the other

A story is not the same
When you remove history
I cannot be a husk
Unless there was
Life
Lost May 15
The same Bright Eyes album
With the same feeling
In the same bed
Looking at a different ceiling

Some things stay the same
And some things will change
But it all feels old
Musty, dusty,
Stained with mold

Water damage on the walls of my room in the double wide
Are like the new stretch marks on my stomach
My plaster skin, my sheetrock hide

If I pick
The paint
Comes off
Rubbery in slippery fingers
Little round fingertip
Jagged cuticle I bit

I can’t remember much
But nothing feels new
My optic nerves receive stimuli
With no brain to register to

I am not blind
I think I might just choose
To leave my mind places
I won’t go back to
I already have a poem titled “VACANT” but tbh after writing over 100 poems it’s getting quite difficult to come up with new titles each time lol.

I hope you’re all doing alright during these uncertain times. Much love to all of you wonderful members of this community :)
Lost Mar 9
****
****
****
When will I ever feel
Like I am enough?

Leave
Leave
Leave
I don’t want you to
To look at me

Go
Go
Go
I don’t want you
To know
Who I am
Because it’s rotten
It’s spoiled
It’s festering
I’m a person
Who’s just gone bad
Long ago
And will never have
A resurrection
A chance to
Reorient
This downhill direction
I’ve been diving in
Some days
I tread water
But my arms
They get tired
And time and time again
I drown
I don’t want
To take you down
To the depths
Of my despair
I don’t want
You to care
It would be better if
I could disappear
Lost Mar 2
Crossing paths
Is just that
A blip in my timeline
Aligns with yours

A year or two or three
You’ll spend with me
But we’re just crossing paths
Nothing more than that

My heart aches for the day
One of us walks away
Inevitably
Gone, but with a trace
With memories
Of your face
In my head
In my mind
What lies ahead
I dread
That I’ll find
All these paths
Are crossing at times
But always split
Sooner or later
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