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annie Apr 2016
i've always been good at swimming
the consistent
repetitive
stroke after stroke after stroke after stroke
breaking the water
entrancingly rhythmic
but with you
i find myself
tossed around
unsettled by your waves
i don't remember how to breathe
annie Apr 2016
maybe you used to try
maybe you used to go to bed thinking of the day to come
figuring out how to make things better
fitting the puzzle pieces together
maybe you used to try
maybe you used to smile into the mirror every morning
counting every blessing in your life
wondering what surprise would come next
maybe you used to try
maybe you used to scream into your pillow
writing of the world plaguing you
hoping a hero would save you
but life is no longer a fairy tale
the puzzle pieces just don't fit
the mirrored man's eyes aren't so bright
but maybe
you can try again
annie Apr 2016
you could be in a room full of people
and still feel the aching loneliness you feel right now
laying in bed
wondering if you had said this
done that
would you still be so ******* alone
would your mind still wander into these corners
unlit
unexplored
unintentionally destroying everything you are
forcing you to face all of it
all the flaws that cover your body
cover your soul
all the flaws that put you in this place again
annie Apr 2016
there is nothing poetic about being empty
there is nothing beautiful about waking up at 4am
wondering when you will feel real again
wondering if you try to hurt just one more ******* time
will things get a little sharper for just a fleeting moment
will you deserve a spot in reality
instead of sinking into the hole again
it's not even dark
I've always been uncomfortable with the dark
some would say scared
but it's not scary
or sharp
or uninviting
maybe I'm just used to it
maybe it just makes a better home than any house I've ever been in
than any bed I've ever slept in
annie Apr 2016
-4 degrees today
freezing temperatures
I know I make a lot of jokes
about my cold heart
but darling
that's not true
it contains a fire burning
sparks flying
the warmth of life
my feet
however
are a different story altogether
bad decisions
leaving me frozen
not knowing where to go
or what to do

maybe I'm not really talking about feet anymore
annie Feb 2016
I can swear it will never happen again,
Although, that is a promise I repeatedly made to myself in the past
And I have found it as empty as the space within my heart,
With not enough “sorry”s to fill the hole,
For darling, it beats, but never for you.

You always have been, always will be, my confidante,
My isle of sanity in the strong tides
Threatening to drown my mind in the sea of blue.
But, the issue at hand is that this feeling is it, and nothing more,
Nothing close to my feelings for another.

Eyes radiating warmth,
Threatening to burn with their fiery gaze -
I have received many a third-degree injury -
For I have done the undoable,
Spoken the unspeakable,
Touched the untouchable.

How could my love extend to another when my duty is to share my heart with only you?
I did share my heart,
and the rest,
with you,
My futile quest for passion as hot as yours.
Alas, that spark could never be alighted,
And it pains me to say that this naïve
Young marriage has been an extended study in unrequited love.

So many years have passed, so many years I have tried, and tried I did.
Not a soul can say I did not try -
By God, if there was an award for trying, this vessel would win first prize -
But I have been anchored down by the weight of your love
Without any of my own to keep me afloat.

Your touch is rough,
And in love it scratches, eroding my skin and revealing an undesirable form.

Hers is soft,
Gently caressing my every nook and cranny,
Taking the bad and making silky-smooth good,
If only for a little while.

Your lips do not fit upon my face.
They are as out of place as a puzzle piece
Chosen with good intentions by a child
But upon examination,
Does not complete the picture,
Being jammed in where it will never belong.

Her kiss locks perfectly upon every piece,
Paralyzing me in a timeless tableau,
Wiping clear, if only for a minute,
How much I abhor every fiber of my sordid being.

For how could I ever be such an abomination in the eyes of our Lord?
To not only be an adulteress, but with her of all people in this immense world?
This is not how I was raised,
This is not how I want anyone to live,
A life as despicable as the worst criminal,
Making me a murderer to my own morals.

The most disgusting part is
How our future children would be reared.
Would I be capable of loving the poor things
Or would my soul reject them such as it has you?
Is there a limit to the hole in my heart?
I am fearful that there is an answer to that,
That I ought to know but have turned a blind eye upon,
Never thinking,
Never thinking.

And that is why I write melancholy papers
With blurry eyes and cheeks as red as the sun that is settling for its nightly rest.
My words spill out, too abrupt for such a note,
But they drop true
Appearing as simple stains I pen them word by cold word.

I should be savouring these final phrases
They will be my last for eternity.
I used to believe we would be together,
Even through the vast expanse of death,
But I will never be allowed through the pearly gates of God's kingdom,
He has long forgotten about me.

For I will not allow to child I carry to enter such a broken world.
You deserve to have a China doll family with a perfectly whole wife,
One that does not have these chips and cracks,
Having to paint a porcelain face on every morning.

I am very sorry for you now,
For this cannot have been an easy read,
Not like your Sunday papers that you voraciously peruse,
Or the novels upon our shelf that you say You will read when you have time -
You never do.

You will have lots of time now,
No longer futilely attempting to please me.
Please, never think you are at fault -
The blame is all mine.

This mess is my tragic legacy that I will not
Allow to be perpetuated.
My final word is this -
Take care,
eat your greens,
Find a woman capable of loving a man as wonderful as you
As she ought to,
My best friend.
this is a dramatic monologue set it about the 50s? idk I got bored
annie Mar 2015
the blue bird sits on the willow tree
i stare at you, you spare no glance for me.
the blue bird flies into bright skies
was there ever a chance for you and i?
the blue bird cries out to empty air
nothing i imagined was ever there.
the blue bird leaves for the vast unknown
i realize in the end we're all alone.
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