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Once upon a time,

Isn't that how fairy tales are supposed to start?

A man and a woman.

Fall in love.

And live happily ever after.

Isn't that how they all end?

Oh, not anymore?

There's too many dragons getting in the way.
the darkness enclosing me,
as the light switch flipped.
walking blindly across the room,
feeling my way to the bed where,
you take my hand and finish guiding me,
next to your side.

the darkness still wraps about me,
as the switch flips,
and the path to the bedside hasn't changed;
but there's no outstretched fingers to grab onto,
to kidnap me from reality,
and guide me to my dreams.
When there's no one to wrap you in their arms anymore in the dark.
He’ll come to pick her up,
To go out on their date.
You’ll warn him to keep her safe,
And not to have her home too late.

He’ll smile and shake your hand.
Then they’ll be off for the night.
You’ll wait up for her,
Watching the clock, sitting by the light.

She’ll rush in, smile upon her face.
Telling you about her great time.
And you’ll gladly listen,
Thinking that for one more night, “She’s mine.”

But later on down the road,
She’ll come to you, saying he’s the man of her life.
And he’ll someday ask you,
For your permission to make her his wife.

In her beautiful, white dress,
You’ll walk her down the aisle,
Kissing her cheek, you’ll give her away,
To the man who’ll forever make her smile.
I didn't know what to title this. I'm open to suggestions.
I want to repair your wounds,
And feel your heart,
Help you love,
And learn to restart.
I want to open up your soul
And free your mind,
Read your thoughts,
And give sight
To the blind.
you can't see me, because your heart is still broken.
You’ve taught me that,
Life is like a game of tetris.
All my errors pile up,
And all my accomplishments disappear.

You’ve turned my life,
Into a show that’s off the air.
The same re-runs keep playing,
But the endings never change.

You build me up,
Then one by one,
You remove my pieces,
Like I’m some kind of Jenga game.

A song stuck on repeat,
I’ve finally learned the lyrics.
But yet, I just can’t find the skip.
To stop these flowing words.
Moving at the speed of sound.
We took that turn just a little too fast.
We were livin’ on the wild side,
No seat belts,
Just watching the night go past.

Thought we were in total control,
Didn’t realize how much we had to lose,
Not a care in the world,
It wasn’t suppose to happen like that,
Didn’t know we were just a burning fuse.

But it wasn’t even our fault.
Just the wrong place and the wrong time.
If the drunk driver had never left the bar,
We’d still be cruising around town,
Instead of being victims of that crime.

The lights grew brighter the closer they came,
Didn’t take in the fact the car was actually in the same lane.
But coming at us instead of moving away.
Getting closer at high speeds,
Pause the moment, say a prayer, then proceed.

Feel the jolt,
Feel the pain,
Feel my legs break,
Feel the blood start to pour,
Feel nothing.

Unconsciousness was welcoming,
Put me out of my misery, for the time being,
Floating up, higher and higher,
Becoming the bystander,
Looking from above, realizing what my eyes were seeing.

His head was laid upon the wheel,
Arm across my chest, tried to hold me back,
Eyes shut, feeling as I was, nothing.
Not even the rise and fall of his chest,
Which alarmed me and sent my mind under attack.

Screaming down to him,
But seeming like my voice was on mute.
Like a loaded gun,
Bullets and all,
But unable to shoot.

He stayed unmoving,
No signs that he might be improving.
I felt helpless looking on from above,
Like there was nothing I could do,
Then came the sirens, flashing red and blue.

See the paramedics stop at the scene.
See the men run out of the bus.
See them take our pulses,
See them begin to move faster,
See that there was still a chance.

As I watched the scene from above,
The drunk driver stepped out of his car,
And was able to walk just fine,
No limp, no scratch,
Not even the smallest bit of a scar.

The medics took out the long straight boards,
And brought them to the car we’d been victimized in,
Cutting both of us out of the vehicle,
Placing him and I on two separate stretchers,
We were apart, the first time since I couldn’t remember when.

Speeding to the hospital,
I kept my eyes on his ambulance,
Instead of my own,
His chest didn’t rise and fall,
His eyes didn’t give me the slightest glance.

Feeling anger all at once,
Feeling more alone than ever before,
Feeling stupid for being so crazy,
Feeling ugly because of the big cut across my face,
Feeling dead.
Following the long winding road with the
Dark clouds and lightning grabbing at our heels,
Gravel kicking up dust in the rearview,
We flew like sparrows in the spring wind.
Johnny Cash singing throughout the speakers;
Tunes of walking lines and rings of fire.
The clearing was just ahead, sandwiched in
Between tall evergreen trees with acorns
Where small sparrows wait for a worm dinner.
for my creative writing class
Should I cry?


Or start punching the walls?


Or both?
I was in the hallway,
I heard it all,
From the cursing and swearing,
To the door slamming.
I knew he had left,
But I went back to bed.
It happened so fast,
It was soon morning.
I thought he might come back,
But when I woke,
There was still no sign.
I ate my breakfast in silence.
She drove me to my grandma’s,
I was with my cousins now,
I almost forgot about it all,
Until she came to get me.
It filled my head again,
Then I thought I might see him.
We arrived home and still no sign,
Then she told me.
I wasn’t sure what it meant,
But I took it like I did.
She explained it all,
I didn’t cry.
She went to court.
They probably argued.
But I wasn’t there,
Maybe I thank God for that.
They both got assigned visitation,
And custody,
I learned I would not live with him,
But with her.
I visit him every Wednesday,
And every other weekend.
At first it was just my brother and I,
Until four years later.
She came from Oskaloosa,
She had two girls,
Who later became our step-sisters.
And she, our step-mom.
She’s not evil like in Cinderella,
But quite the opposite.
She buys us things,
And loves us like we’re her own.
My mom has moved on also,
She now dates a man,
Who cooks great food.
And loves us like we’re his own.
So maybe this is like Cinderella,
And we all live,
In a world,
Happily ever after.
A poem about my parents' divorce.
The sun begins to rise.
It’s too early to be awake.
Grabbing my keys,
I start towards the car.

Not one hour of sleep,
Tears held back.
Trying to be strong.
Driving across town.

Stop lights and morning traffic,
The only obstacles slowing me down.
Pulling in the drive way.
Your mom greets me at the door.

Walking up on the porch,
She pulls me in her arms.
A single tear escapes,
And slides down my cheek.

Holding the door for me,
I walk inside.
She asks me how I slept.
I tell her, “not one bit.”

My bed isn’t right.
It’s meant for two.
You’re half a world away.
And I’m here, just thinking about you.

After a couple sips of coffee,
And some minutes of loud silence,
I stand up,
And walk to the stairs.

At the top and to the right,
Your room is stationed at the end.
I open the door,
And your scent hits me hard.

Walking to your closet,
I pull out one of your button-ups.
I wrap it around myself,
And grab another shirt.

I go over and sit on your bed,
Hugging the extra shirt to my chest.
Smelling your sweet scent,
And begin to cry.

A million tears,
Finally flooding out.
Heavier sobs escaping,
Until I lay down on my side,
My head resting on your pillow.
My lips curl about your name,
like a newborn wraps its tiny fingers
around yours, clinging to your body
as if you are the air I need to breathe.
I want to tangle myself
within your limbs while you hold
me as tight as it takes to
mend me back together.
Your breath is warm against
the surface of my skin,
kisses to my wounds,
both the visible and
the invisible,
as you whisper your love
deep within my ears.
The words resonate through my
insides, swimming my veins,
pumping like blood through my heart.
Your fingers explore the geography
of my body, mapping the curves and
valleys that you’ve settled in.
I am a log cabin in the woods
of our bed, tucked away within
the cover of our sheets,
and you’re looking for home.
I wear your tags around my neck,
my own personal lockets with your name engraved,
where they hang low enough to hear my
heartbeat pulse within the safety of my chest.
The metal is cold against
the skin that covers my *******.
And they’ve folded the fifty stars
and thirteen red and white stripes that protected
your casket, even after your heart stopped beating
into its triangle form, and
they handed it over like a death sentence
given to the wrong inmate,
for a crime he never committed.
I held the shield against my body,
wrapping myself around the cloth,
curving my body about the ripples
which reminded me of the heart monitor
that showcased your breathing
before the line went flat.
But it felt nothing like the way
your body felt folded against mine
in the darkness of your last night home
before you left for your final tour
in the foreign land that was as strange
as the first time we made love,
exploring the geography of our
different maps holding buried treasures
beneath the surface of our skin.
In our strangeness, I lost everything to you,
wandering without a compass.
And ultimately I ended up losing you to
the strangeness of the land, instead of
in the familiarity of my arms.

And I wish I could’ve convinced you to stay.
But I was never good at tug of war,
and Iraq was so much stronger than I.
Standing next to your casket, dressed in a mask of tears,
destroyed mascara and black clothing for your funeral
as your fellow brothers in arms,
who became my brothers too, hold their guns
pointed towards you in the sky; your own salute.
But it’s peaceful to know that your ears no longer ring
with machine guns and you’ll sleep peacefully from here until forever
instead of fighting enemies, even in your nightmares and daydreams.
I am grieving but I am blessed
that you are no longer suffering and miserable.
I’ve written my suicide note disguised
Too many times in too many text messages.
I can’t understand why no one is trying to save me
When that’s exactly what I’m waiting for:
Someone to tell me that I need help.
Someone who doesn’t just listen,
But takes me to the hospital.
Because I can’t bring myself to drive with scars lining my wrist
Through traffic lights under the stars to the emergency room.
But I can’t swallow the number of pills, I lost track of count
To take me out of my misery either.
Kissing a bullet through my lips
Is too much noise and clean-up,
But at least I’d be gone; guaranteed.
Thoughts don’t guarantee anything,
But they set the idea in motion.
Thinking of my funeral from afar,
Watching everyone dressed in black,
Crying their mascara down their cheeks,
Almost would have me fooled that they care.
The very thought of imagining my own funeral
Makes me think that I might just be able to create it.
rough draft because i'm crying, wishing someone would put me out of my misery.
There’s an infinite amount of things in this world that I’ll never understand; an enormous list of things I’ll never know the rhyme or reason behind, if there is one. I can never understand why there are days when out of the blue, watching TV downstairs, that she’ll just get up and leave the room, making an exit to our bedroom, and our bed. I’ll never understand why her brain has less chemicals than mine, why she suffers from depression, and I’m just fine.

But as I watch her crawl up the stairs slowly, I know that the tears have already began to well up in her eyes and are threatening to spill over but she’s keeping her composure as long as she can until she’s hidden away inside our room. And thirty seconds later, she’ll have unleashed the flood of salty liquid down her cheeks until they mark the pillow case with mascara and eyeliner.

And after letting her sob in a silence that she thinks I cannot hear, I’ll make my way up the stairs to find her with her back towards the door, her shoulders shaking as she tries to stop the rain from falling, hoping I’ll leave it alone and leave the room.

But it’s too much to see her fight this battle on her own. It’s too hard to see the scars she’s taken in a haste to finish the war for the night and start again unexpectedly in the future. So instead, I don’t ask her what’s wrong or why she’s crying because I know that she doesn’t even know why the tears are falling so quickly. I know that she’s just as lost as I am in this mission.

So I won’t leave the room, but I’ll lay down beside her and listen to her as she continues trying to stop her tears, the sniffling of her nose before she knows she can’t win and let’s herself go once more in the presence of me. And before long, I’ll wrap my arms around her shoulders and hold her in them until she relaxes in my security.

There are things in this world that I’ll never understand, like how she can be so miserable and I can be just fine; why she was born with a brain with less chemicals than mine.
find my scars,
wherever they may be;
on my wrists, where my heart should be,
and love them even more
than the beach loves the sea.
Kiss me like the tide
Marks the sand,
And guide me like the lighthouse
Helps a boat find land.
I hate how you leave me with these regrets,
I hate the fact that you smoke cigarettes.
I hate how you make me laugh, when I’m trying my best to be mad.
I hate how you don’t miss the times that we had.
I hate the little nicknames you gave me,
I hate the way you make me feel so empty.
I hate how all you want to do is get high,
I hate the fact that I can’t call you mine.
I hate how you send me emotions into whiplash,
I hate our attitudes when we clash.
I hate how you still say you love me as your friend,
I hate you for bringing things to an end.
I hate when you don’t know that you’re flirting,
I hate how you try to comfort me when I’m hurting.
I hate how I can’t sleep because you’re on my mind,
I hate how you casually come up and wrap your arms around me from behind.
I hate the mixed signals you send my way,
I hate when I want to leave, but you want me to stay.
I hate almost everything that you seem to do,
I hate how I'm still in love with you.
Sorry about the rant guys...
When darkness calls,
I’ll stumble around,
Looking for you,
To break all my falls.

When your arms reach out,
I’ll stumble around,
Looking for you,
Trusting without a doubt.  

When clouds fill my sky,
I’ll stumble around,
Looking for you,
Never wanting to say goodbye.

When music fills my ears,
I’ll stumble around,
Looking for you,
Someone who brings my happiness to tears.

When cologne fills my nose,
I’ll stumble around,
Looking for you,
To bury my head in your clothes.

When he says my name,
I’ll stumble around,
Looking for you,
‘Cause I know it’ll never sound the same.
I’m a functionally depressed person.
I’ve self-diagnosed myself as this
Because severe depression makes
Me feel like I should be lying
Around my house all day and
Although I’d rather wrap myself
In the blankets of my bed,
I push myself out into the day.
Dressed in an outfit that’s not
Sweatpants and a t-shirt, but
Instead, jeans and a sweater.
Long sleeves to cover the cuts
On my arm, or many bracelets
With no colors that match my
Outfit but they cover my
Self-inflicted wounds from
The night before.
I fake a smile at people
That I pass by during the day
And I hope that they can’t
See through my eyes and into
My head. I hope they can’t read
The suicidal thoughts swimming
Around, filling the lack of serotonin
That I’m missing from my brain.
Their eyes feel like lasers shooting
Into my brain like bullets that I dream
Of releasing from the chamber
To settle in my head.
I’m a functionally depressed person
Because I function in society
Without anyone knowing that
Inside, I’m already dead.
I've had a really bad day.
I've recently been contacted about having my collection of poems published. since you all are such great fans and supporters, I invite you to go 'like' my Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/courtneyksnodgrass
you'll get additional sneak peeks like excerpts and quotes from the novel that I just finished writing as well!
it would really mean a lot if you guys could go like my page and then invite your friends too. (if you feel I deserve it)
all is appreciated, thank you so much.
~Courtney Snodgrass
sorry for the self promo
My chest rises and
Falls in a matching rhythm,
Syncing along yours.
haiku
*******, Cupid,
For striking me so deep.
*******,
For giving me something,
I thought I’d be able to keep.
It is half past one in the morning and
The red digits from the alarm clock
Lecture me for thinking about you.

The pillow next to me
Harbors your absence,
And the loneliness holds me.

I glare at the numbers,
Fully aware that I will be exhausted come morning.
Then the time changes and it is one thirty-one.
Remember when your arms were clean?
When society wasn’t so mean?
When you didn’t log into accounts,
And want to log right back out?
Back when you lived in a world full of love,
But got older so push came to shove,
You chose to take the shove,
And tried to solve everything you were sick of.
Chose to create some scars first.
Changing everything about you, just so you could hurt.
Any sweatshirt became your friend,
Hiding the several wounds you couldn’t mend.
But only for so long,
Before someone noticed that you were acting all wrong.
Someone who started asking tons of questions,
Because they’d noticed you’ve given into depression.
She was asking because she cared and had noticed the change,
You hadn’t been like yourself, but instead in disarrange.
When you were confronted,
You just wanted to walk away and hide from it.
But she grabbed your arm,
And your sweatshirt moved, revealing your self harm.
And everything you’d tried so hard to cover,
Rose to the surface, allowing her to discover,
The scars that stood in plain sight,
And how the internet had forced you to hate your life.
Regret. The act of doing something and feeling remorse later on; the act of wanting to take something back; the act of wishing something didn’t happen. I regret ever making the joke that when my sister and I fought; it was like World War 3. I regret not telling my brother how much he meant to me and how proud I was that he was serving our country. I regret falling in love with a man that would be forced to go into the military.

Ayden received the letter in the mail two weeks ago, informing him that he would be expected to be at the airport, to involuntarily serve our country. Something bad was going to happen. Something no one was prepared for. We were only eighteen, just seniors in high school since our birthdays took place in the summer. We had been dating one year. The thought of him going half way around the world to fight in a war that came out of nowhere, scared me half to death. It wasn’t just the fact that I was losing my boyfriend who I was incredibly in love with; It was the fact that all in one day, I would be losing my boyfriend, and my best friend. No one to share my secrets with, no one to wrap me in his arms and tell me that everything was going to be okay. Just like he had done the night before when he had finally worked up the courage to tell me what had happened. My jaw hit the floor, my eyes watered up, and I may or may not have started trembling. We had been sitting on the couch when he squeezed my hand a little tighter.

“I have to tell you something.” He said.

I turned toward him with a smile on my face, which quickly faded when I saw that his own eyes had started to tear up.

“What’s wrong?” I asked immediately.

“In a week, I won’t see you. I don’t know for how long, I don’t know when I’ll be back.” He started to explain.

“Where are you going?” I asked impatiently.

“I don’t know.”

“You have to know.”

“There’s going to be a war.” He said. “A big one.” He whispered.

“There was a draft?”

He nodded his head slightly.

“When did you find out?” I asked.

“About a week ago.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t know how.”

“You didn’t know how?” I whispered.

“Ava. This hurts more than if I was breaking up with you.” He said. “I’ve wanted to tell you. I have. But I didn’t know how. How do you tell someone you’re completely in love with, that you’re going off to fight in a war? That you don’t know if you’ll be coming back?”

“You certainly don’t hide it from that person.” I whispered.

“I might not be coming back.”

“Don’t say that.” I interrupted. “Don’t ever say that again.”

I let a few tears slip down the side of my cheek. He raised his hand to my face and slowly swiped them away with his thumb. He pulled me closer into his arms and kissed my forehead.

“I love you.” He whispered into my ear.

“I love you too.” I said.

Those were the last words we said to each other a week later while standing in the airport. His parents were there too .He had already hugged them and his dad had ushered his mom out to the parking lot in order to keep her from having a panic attack. Ayden and I had stood there awkwardly for a few minutes. After all, what do you say to someone when there’s a possibility you might not ever see them again? That had been when he out of nowhere grabbed me and pulled me against his chest. Wrapping me tightly in his arms, I buried my nose into the sleeve of his jacket and savored the sweet scent of his cologne.

I stood in the window of the airport, watching planes take off after he had given me a final hug and had left to board the plane. Already, I felt like I had something missing from me. Like there was a big hole in my heart. I felt empty. After some time, I decided I should probably go home.

I didn’t cry myself to sleep last night like I thought I would’ve. Instead, I just lay in bed, looking up at the ceiling, not knowing what to think. Tomorrow would be so much different than all my other days at school. No one to hold my hand while walking down the hallway, no one to go out to lunch with, and no one to look forward to so bright and early in the morning. After what seemed like forever, I drifted off to sleep, images of Ayden appearing in my dreams.

The sound of my alarm clock woke me in the morning. And all at once, it hit me, everything that I had been thinking of before drifting off to sleep the night before. Everything that had happened yesterday hadn’t been just a dream. It had been reality and it was finally starting to set in. I threw the covers off of me and started my day like any other, minus the ‘good morning beautiful’ text that I had been so used to receiving.

When I was finally ready for school, I grabbed my keys and headed out the door. The weather fit my mood perfectly. Cloudy, dark, damp, awful weather. Unlike most days that usually occurred here in California. I was used to the sun, the nice warm breeze, not this ‘Seattle like’ weather. Driving to school, I wasn’t sure if the raindrops falling on my windshield made it blurry to see, or if it was my own tears welling up in my eyes. I pretended for it to be the first option, all the while knowing it was the second. Staying strong had been one of my traits. When things got tough, I wasn’t one to run from my problems. No, I faced those dead on. Mom always said I got that from Dad.

It’d been a long time since I’d last thought about him. He was tall, strong, and stubborn. He died serving our country. Maybe that’s what scared me most about Ayden having to go fight. I’d experience death through the military too many times in my book. My grandpa had served our country and had also died in military combat, then Dad. Maybe, it was just my family. Luck just didn’t play on our side. When my brother was finally old enough to join, he surprised us all at dinner one night.

“Have you thought anymore about that business degree you want to get?” Mom had asked.

“Well, yeah. Actually, no. I’ve decided against the business degree.” Ethan had said.

“Honey, you’re almost ready to graduate. You’re changing your mind in the blink of an eye and at possibly, the last minute?”

I had sat silently, not saying a word. Ethan had told me a few months before what he’d been thinking. He knew my opinion, but didn’t know Mom’s. I wasn’t happy with what he was deciding, but I was almost willing to support him. We were close, and I didn’t want to lose him like I had lost Dad, who I’d also been so close to.

“I want to join the military.” He said quietly, and calmly.

I remember Mom’s reaction almost perfectly. She didn’t say a word at first, just looked down at her plate. When she lifted her head a minute later, tears had begun to form in her eyes, ones she blinked away quickly, not letting them spill over onto her cheeks.

“When did you, decide this?” she asked quietly.

“I’ve thought about it for a long time. My choices were either, business, or military.” He explained. “And Mom, the business thing just isn’t working out.”

“Of all things to choose.” She whispered.

She shook her head slightly and I saw a tear fall onto the table by her plate.

“Mom, things are different these days. It’s not like when Dad fought.” He explained. “Ava supports me.” He slipped.

Mom’s head snapped up and looked at me. My head bent down, looking at the spaghetti on my plate.

“You knew?” she asked quietly.

I said nothing. Absolutely nothing. Telling Mom that I had known his decision all along wasn’t part of the plan when the three of us sat down for dinner that night.

“I thought there were no secrets in this house?” she asked.

“There isn’t.” Ethan chimed in. “Anymore.” He whispered.

Mom breathed in a deep breath and let it escape.

“Ethan, I love you. And I support whatever you choose to do. You know that. But I am telling you right now, I will be ****** if I lose another important man in my life.” She said, sternly, while looking deep into his eyes.

“Dad would’ve wanted this.” Ethan said, plainly.

“I know.”

And with that, she had excused herself and left the table. Walking down the hallway, I heard her sniffle a couple times.

The fact of those two simple words stung but as the saying goes, “the truth hurts.” Mom was a runner. She was the one who would always run from her problems instead of confronting them. The one thing that she had always said and will continue to always say, she didn’t want Ethan going into the military. Ever since Dad had died, she’d stuck to her word. Even though, we all knew Dad would’ve wanted Ethan to follow in his steps and be a commanding officer, it’d be the one thing Mom would continuously disagree on. I guess you could say I was the same way. After Ayden had told me that he had been signed for the draft, my breath had caught and I had the same reaction as Mom would’ve had. I would’ve wanted him to do anything, anything, besides go into the military. But I guess it was different this time. No one really had a say in who was on the list and who was absent. My bad luck had just started to shine through.

School dragged on. As normal. But it was different now. Ayden wasn’t there to hold my hand. He wasn’t there to greet me after my classes, wasn’t there to walk me to my car, wasn’t there to just be in my presence. It was like he had died. And just the thought of that alone, brought tears to my eyes. I wasn’t the only one whose boyfriend had been called off for the draft. No, there were others, but none of those other couples had been like Ayden and I. We weren’t just a couple. We weren’t just homecoming king and queen. No, we were best friends. I’d known him since first grade when he’d transferred to my elementary school. I had been the one assigned to show him around the school. We became friends, and later on, best friends. Freshman year of high school, Ayden and I had gone to homecoming together. Not as a couple but just as friends because neither of us had a date. Sophomore year, we had gone together again. Not because we didn’t have a date, but because we wanted to go with each other. I’ll never forget that night, because that was the night Ayden had told me he wanted to be more than friends. I had never actually thought about being more than just his friend until he had brought it up. That night, I didn’t just fall in love with a guy; I fell in love with my best friend.

The final bell rang for school to be dismissed. Once again, I felt emptiness inside while walking through the hallway. Blurs of kids rushing past me kept me from allowing my tears to spill over onto my cheeks, but that was the only thing that stopped them. After getting into my car, I put the key into the ignition but didn’t start it; I didn’t even turn the key. I put my head in my hands and took a deep breath. In my head, I thought, “One day down.”

After sitting for a few minutes in my quiet car, and letting other vehicles exit the parking lot, I finally turned the key and started my car. Hearing the soft music come on the radio, I turned it down so I could only hear the engine running. Putting my car into reverse, I wasn’t exactly sure where I was going to go. I just wanted to drive. Halfway home, I changed directions and headed to what seemed like my second house, my best friend’s house.

I knew his Mom would be off work by now and would be there to let me in. I found it ironic, as I always have that when you’re in a hurry to get somewhere; you stop at every red light possible. Red lights, stop signs, and slow moving cars in general were the only obstacles in my way that afternoon. Finally, when I was out of the traffic and almost to Ayden’s house, I pushed my foot a little harder on the gas to gain some speed. Driving up over the gravel road, I could see in the distance his Mom’s small car parked in the driveway; along with Ayden’s. Just seeing it there, gave me false hope that maybe this was all a dream and he was actually at his house, waiting for me.

Pulling into the driveway, his Mom came out onto the porch. Ayden lived in a house that you see in the movies. A tall, white one with a wraparound porch, the swing out front. I loved spending time in that house. Putting the car in park, I slowly got out and walked up to the porch.

“How did it go?” his Mom asked.

I shrugged my shoulders, while walking up the stairs. She pulled me into her arms and hugged me. Rubbing my back, she whispered,

“It’ll be okay. He’ll be coming home sooner than you know it.”

“Can I just go up to his room?” I asked.

“Of course.”

She released me from her arms and I opened the screen door to head inside while she remained on the porch. I walked up the stairs and to the right. Ayden’s door was closed. That was unlikely. He never kept his door shut just for the sake of it being shut. It was always opened. I pushed it open and walked inside. All his stuff was where he had left it. His bed was unmade, his closet doors standing open. I walked to his closet and ran my hands over his shirts, His scent filled my nose and I just wanted him home. I grabbed a button down, blue and white, thin striped shirt. He had worn it to school a couple times. I put it up to my nose, taking in faint bit of cologne that you could still smell on it, even after it going through the wash. I walked over to his bed, sitting down on the edge. With his shirt still pressed close to my face, I breathed in a heavy breath and let everything go. The tears started coming and I didn’t stop them. I started sobbing but I didn’t care. It seemed like everything that I’d ever loved, was gone. Because technically, it was, for the time. Ayden leaving to go fight in a war half way across the country scared me more than life itself, and hurt more than if he had broken up with me. I felt alone, even when there were dozens of people around me. I felt as if Ayden was dead when he was actually alive and well, as far as I knew. He’d only been gone one day and it felt like three years. Losing Ayden to the war efforts showed the true meaning in the saying, “you never really know what you have until it’s gone.” But really, the truth was, I knew what I had. I knew exactly what I had. I just took it for granted and didn’t think I’d ever lose it. And now all I wanted was Ayden back in the same country as me, back in the same house as where I was. In his room, watching a movie, playing a game, anything. That’s all I wanted at that exact moment.

I jumped up out of my sleep, my heart beating faster than a race car zooming around a track. I looked at my alarm clock, the red digits glaring, 2:33 back at my face. I swallowed and took a few more deep breaths before kicking the covers off and walking to the bathroom. I turned the light on and splashed some cool water over my face. Looking up into the mirror, I took one final deep breath and walked back to my room. Grabbing my phone from my nightstand next to my bed, I unplugged it and ran my finger over the touch screen. Reaching Ayden’s name, I touched the screen where it said to call. Holding the phone up to my ear, I waited for Ayden’s voice to answer. After about five rings and silence, his voice answered through his voicemail.

“Hey, it’s Ayden. I’m a little busy at the moment, but leave a message, and I’ll make sure to get back to you.”

My tears broke out all over again, my already swollen eyes releasing more sobs. I pulled my covers up to my chest and buried my face in them. My sobs grew a bit louder, and I heard footsteps coming from outside my bedroom door. I tried to stop, and after sniffling a couple times, the white door opened slowly.

“Honey,” Mom said, coming over to the bed.

“I can’t do this, Mom.” I sobbed.

She pulled me into her arms and rested her chin on my head while softly rubbing my back.

“It gets better.” she whispered. “It gets better.” she paused. “I promise.”

“I don’t know.” I said.

“I do.” she replied. “I went through this. You seem to keep forgetting. But I went through this exact same thing.”

I took a deep breath. “How long?” I asked. “How long does this last? This loneliness, this emptiness?”

“Too long.” she whispered.

She pulled me into her arms even more, holding me tighter, until I slowly laid down on my bed, my tears falling to my pillow. She sat on the edge of my bed, rubbing my back. It reminded me of all the times when I had been sick and she’d s
I know this isn't a poem, but I would like some feedback, comments or suggestions. I wrote this for a class, but I really like it. Tell me what you think. All comments are appreciated:)
Yeah,

I’ll probably miss you.

But,



I’m glad you’re *gone.
I used to think,
That you were irreplaceable,
That you were the greatest,
That no one could love me deeper,
That nobody could make me feel the same.
It just so turns out,
I thought wrong.
the t.v.'s only on to drown out the silence,
and to give my ears some kind of noise.
this candle's only burning to hide your scent,
and provide light in this empty room.

the clear bottom of this empty Captain stares back at me,
bragging its victory.
Found this hidden within some documents on my laptop.
There’s just something
About the way your
Fingertips brush my skin,
That makes me want to
Feel your arms around me,
And breathe you in.
I love comments.
At a very small age, much too young
to know what a true love felt like,
I learned that I’d never be the
special girl in your life.
I could see from the distance already
wedged between us that there would
always be a much larger section
of your heart that I’d never be
good enough to fill.
I was only a very small part of
your world, taking up a tiny section
of your heart like a sliver wedged
deep inside the membrane of your
greatest *****; like a paper cut to the
side of your finger; so small just to push
aside but too much pain to forget completely.
I was the mistake you were trying to
move on from, to put behind you,
to forget about me as if I never existed.
Even from a modest age, I knew how
to long after a man who barely knew that
I belonged to him.
You were out of my league;
in a total different game.
I could hang on to someone like they were
the air I needed inside my lungs to breathe.
But you only ever wanted to be let go.
Oxygen is nothing that I’ll ever be able to touch.
You taught me what it meant to be temporary
before I would ever know what commitment was
and I learned soon enough that
they didn’t mean the same thing.

I tried and I tried and I tried
to be your girl.
I experienced my first broken heart
when you asked her to marry you.
We never had a relationship
but she became the wedge between
our potential friendship.
I learned what heartbreak felt like by a
man who said he loved me but had
the strangest way of showing it.
I learned that actions spoke louder than words
but sometimes actions didn’t speak at all.
I learned to never believe the truth
because you’d taught me how good a lie
felt within my ears;
like the harmony of an orchestra whose
conductor was blind to the instruments
being played in front of him.
We’ve never known harmony;
always out of tune,
I hated the sound of music.
I loved fairytales but hated Cinderella
and the reality that she brought to my life.
Blood wasn’t thicker;
It meant nothing to be related biologically
when romantic love came into play.
From a young age, I learned the world
was a cruel and unfair place
and I had to fight from my
corner of the ring by myself.
I learned what favoritism meant
and not because you chose me.
I learned temporary,
but never knew commitment.
The ratio of lies to truths was far greater.
After knowing distance,
I knew how to be cautious.
After you broke my heart,
I learned hate.
I knew how it felt to hate before
I would ever know how to love.
I knew it like the back of my hand;
more than I could ever know you.

But it’s time I taught myself something
so I’m learning forgiveness.
I forgive you,
for not knowing what it means
to be a father.
I forgive you for never choosing me
and for always picking her.
I tried and I tried and I tried
to be daddy’s girl,
but you never allowed me that privilege
and your heart was never large enough
for both of us,
so I forgive you for loving her more;
I forgive you for being my dad.
this feels so good to get out of my head; literally feels like a weight has been lifted from my chest.
when will I ever add or multiply ‘x’ and ‘y?’
poetry written in math class...
I wonder,
If you still lift your head,
From whatever held
Your attention,
When you hear my name.
And I wonder,
If you remember
The love we shared,
Until something else,
Grabbed your attention.
It’s one of those cold, windy, nights,
One where the stars chose to hide behind the clouds,
I’ve called your phone a couple too many times.
Just thought I’d be able to hear your voice.

Your voicemail would’ve been good enough.

It’s only a little after ten.
And I can’t sleep to save my life.

The spot in my bed, where you used to lay,
Right next to me,
Just harbors some empty sheets,
Holding your smell in between.

It’d just be nice to have you here.

It’s getting a little later,
But I can’t seem to close my eyes.

So I’ll just roam the town.
Check out the old neighborhoods,
See some couples,
Walking hand in hand down the street.

And see your car parked up ahead,
Next to one I cant say I recognize.
I move closer and only see your bedroom light,
With two shadows.
And I choose to just drive by.

A couple more days move on past,
A few more seconds, that wouldn’t last.

And you slowly start to fade.

But the rain just started to fall,
As I look out the window pane,
And choose the one I want to win,
My eyes start to water, tears I no longer can contain.

And I just can’t seem to stop them.
Letting them fall a little faster.

Before I gain some composure.

I hear a car coming down the street,
Looking up the road to see a car I’ll always recognize.
You see me in the glass,
But he comes up behind me,
And you choose to just drive by.
ehh, it could be a song. It still needs some more lines to it, but here's a start. If you guys could tell me what you think, it'd be greatly appreciated. Thanks so much!
I keep this bottle of pills, filled up to the brim. And I leave them on my nightstand.
I keep the small container without stealing any
Even when my head is throbbing so hard, I can hear my pulse deep inside my ears.
But I keep them; so if I ever want to taste them all in one setting,
The option is there.
I don’t plan to take these pills. I just have them; just in case.
Because you can’t plan death, you can’t sit down one night and say, “I, want, to, die.”
It doesn’t work like that, depression isn’t that simple.
It’s not an impulsive act or feeling; it’s a build down.
And I say build down because it sure as hell doesn’t make you feel good about yourself.
It piles in your head, like ***** laundry that’s been there for days and sits around the floor,
Because you can’t get out of bed.
It adds up, like miles on that old car that seems to cost a fortune every week but you can’t afford a new one.
Because if you could, maybe you’d leave your pillow and see the world,
Travel. Away.
Like a cross country road trip, pushing pins into a board, marking all of the spots in the world you want to stop and see.
But if my arm were a highway, and these straight lines my tourist spots, my blade would be my car.
It’s not a Cadillac or an SUV. It’s been used,
Back when I actually gave a **** about what I looked like.
I don’t cut slashes in my wrist anymore
As if I was a four year old erasing the white ink from her canvas, coloring with a silver crayon.
And I may be lying when I say,
I don’t have a razor blade hidden within the drawer.
Because  I keep that thin, shiny piece of metal that pulls so easily against flesh,
Because,
Maybe someday I don’t want to relapse and start over.
I want to succeed.
But that isn’t something I can plan.
okay guys, I need some serious, serious feedback. this is an extremely rough draft and needs some work, but I want to know your opinions and suggestions. thanks!
“Here, have a drink,” A man slurred.
A tall, red, plastic cup of heavy smelling alcohol hovered in front of me, like a moth around the flickering flame of a candle.
The cup laughed in my face and dared me to grab it; the peer pressure pouring off of the drunk’s lips was like a buzzing fly that wouldn’t leave me alone.
“No thanks,” I told him.
“C’mon, it’s just one drink.”
I sighed, because I’d been down this road before.
Because just one drink can’t hurt anything, right?
It’s just one.
One that allows a drunken ******* who otherwise has no control over women besides offering ‘just one drink.’
But the flashback that started playing inside my head was a movie screen that felt like a drive-in film where everyone was welcome to watch.
Except they couldn’t.
These drunken “friends” on the TV inside my head who I’d been with a few months ago had wandered off with their own boyfriends, leaving me
Stranded and vulnerable, like a car on the side of the highway without any flashing hazard lights warning other drivers that I was parked there.
They abandoned me.
And who knows how long I would have been stranded until a car decided to pull over and approach my vehicle, tow straps to carry me away.
But he didn’t save me from the other passing cars. Instead, he hauled me around a sharp curve of the long stretch of road,
Left me as a wide open target for his own truck to smash into me, leaving me broken and battered, with no witnesses to call the police, an ambulance or a fire truck.
I was left all alone, bleeding and scarred in the dark curve of the highway where this drunken driver escaped without a single bruise or tear on his body, unlike my own.
“It’s just one drink.” The intoxicated stranger pried at me again, feeling his question burn into me like a red light that just wouldn’t turn green.
“No,” I said and turned away from the drunk.
It was the first time I said no to the smell of dark liquor and whatever was hiding beneath and dissolved into the liquid that was harbored in the tall, red cup.
I said no to being victim again to a ******* drug.
feedback is encouraged and appreciated :)
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I told you I’m not perfect,
But you told me I’m pretty **** close.
You’re like some kind of personal medicine,
And I’m willing to take every dose.

I told you I wasn’t fully in love with you,
But I was definitely falling.
You said you’re pretty good at catching things,
I’m beginning to think I should just stop stalling.
Unfinished? Not sure if I should add more. Comments? Please and thank you:)
And as I lie in bed,
Staring at the ceiling above me,
The rise and fall of my chest
Reminding me that I am alive,
Listening to the rain,
Landing on the roof,
The sky assures me that
There is nothing wrong
With having a good cry.
lonely nights and a steady rain
You learn to work for what you want.
Only to have it ripped out of your hands.
I used to think that love was about working hard,
And working towards your goals.
Working for your Prince Charming,
But love is more about learning to let go.
It’s about working toward that goal,
But it’s more about learning to grieve once it’s gone.
It’s about remembering and forgetting,
All at the same time.
It’s a constant battle,
A war.
It’s about being torn between,
Wanting to remember the memories,
But it’s also about trying to erase them.
Love is life,
Handing out lemons,
But  having them go sour.
Love makes you strong,
But breaks you.
Builds you up,
But tears you down.
It’s about wanting something so bad,
You can taste it,
But can’t fully grasp it.
It’s about being so close,
But so far away,
Thinking you’re almost there,
But nowhere close.
It’s about keeping that strength and those goals,
But also giving up on them.
It’s whiplash, everyday.
Not knowing when to quit,
Not knowing when to stop, and let go.
It’s about fighting because maybe there’s a chance,
When you know there’s no chance at all.
Love is about getting the one you want,
And having them taken away.
Love is about learning to let go.
This is honestly, just a rant of my thoughts.
The first night I stayed under the stars at your house,
I tossed and turned until finally I woke you with
Soft kisses over your bare shoulders and on your chest
Just above your heart.
After stirring out of your slumber, your lips brushed mine
And the crook of your arm fit perfectly around
My body as you held me close.
One of us just barely awake, the other wide.

Learning to sleep with someone new takes time;
Discovering the way their chest rises and falls
Like the tide comes up to kiss the sand
Before receding back and pushing forward again.
Listening to their deep breaths as they lay
Almost lifeless on their back,
Matching their breaths to heartbeats beneath your cheek.
The way they stir in the sleep and reposition
Themselves so their arm holds you safe and secure
Even when they’re dreaming.
If my bed wouldn't have turned cold,
I never would have known you'd gone.
Before the sun had risen, your car sped down the street,
away.
And I stayed.

And now Im only a little bit sad.
I gave in once again, to a love I thought you meant.

As I've done over and over again,
Ill wait for your text, your call.
And when you never do,
please know,
it wasn't me, but all you.
The vibrating sensation,
Grabbing my attention to your hand.
Slide your hand across the screen to answer,
And walk down the hallway.

Mumbling words I cannot understand,
To some unknown, but all too familiar caller.
the start of a cheating relationship...?
These walls won’t ever grow weak,

and,

f
  a
     l
       l

               down again.
I don't know if I like this format or if I should just keep it all in one line. Suggestions?
Got your mind made up,
You’re leaving this town.
Just as soon as the next summer rolls around.
Let me be your reason to stay.

You’re grabbing your keys,
Headed to the door.
Got nothing else to say, nothing no more.
Let me be your reason to stay.

Getting in your car,
Not a look back.
Going on home, just to pack.
Let me be your reason to stay.

A slight knock on your door.
One little kiss.
Something that drives you mad, something you’ll miss.
Let me be your reason to stay.

Grab my hand.
Pull me in close.
Say you’ll miss me the most.
Let me be your reason to stay.

You’re slowly moving on.
Long down the road.
I’m just sitting at home, “missing you” mode.
Let me be your reason to stay.

Would you miss me at all?
Every second, every hour?
My tears are pouring down, one long rain shower.
Let me be your reason to stay.

You’re having some regrets,
You want to move back.
Going to your newfound home, just to pack.
Let me be your reason to stay.

A slight knock on your door.
One little kiss.
Something that drives you mad, something you’ll miss.
Let me be your reason to stay.

Grab my hand.
Pull me in close.
Say you’ll miss me the most.
Let me be your reason to stay.

You’re driving through traffic,
Pedal to the floor.
Yelling you can’t miss me anymore.
Let me be your reason to stay.

Hitting every red light,
There could possibly be.
Nothing on your mind, nothing but me.
Let me be your reason to stay.

I see you coming down the street.
Seeing you here.
Down my face, falls one little tear.
Let me be your reason to stay.

A slight knock on my door.
One little kiss.
Something that drives me mad, something I’ve missed.
Am I your reason to stay?

Grabbing my hand.
You pull me in close.
Looking in my eyes, saying you’ve missed me the most.
Am I your reason to stay?

Grabbing both of my hands.
Pulling me closer.
Telling me I’m your reason to stay.
Whispering, you’re never going away.
Maybe a song?
I want to take you in my arms,
Like how you took me in yours,
And kiss the alcohol
Off of your breath,
Breathing you in,
And loving you,
Like how you fell in love with me.
Little doodled hearts still appear,
On the top corners of school notebook pages.
For hope is not lost in something so magical.
Journeys are still continued into the unknown,
Each more cautious than what was before.

Walls built strong to hold out
Strangers who feel no remorse.
But torn down around the ones,
Who’ve already earned a place,
On the top corner of a page.

Education centers have not taught us well,
For we still long after ones,
Who don’t rightfully belong to us.

Eye glasses have been broken or lost,
Blurring our vision,
From what stands before us.
humans are notorious for chasing after people who show us no attention and we ignore the ones who will always be around to love us.
Just ******* be with her.

It’s always been her anyway.
If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it still make a sound?

If you cry in the shower and no one hears your sobs, do you still get swollen eyes?
These demons dance over my shoulders,
They torture me.
When they’re performing,
Don’t ask me what’s wrong,
Don’t ask me if I’m okay,
Don’t steal them from their dance floor,
Don’t interrupt their dance.
I have a dark side too.
I’d caught her in the act twice before and the silence from the upstairs bedroom was louder than the TV broadcasting the news tonight. Any other night, I could hear her footsteps against the floorboards, the opening and shutting of doors, cupboards, closets, but tonight when I muted the TV, all I heard was quiet.

I walked cautiously up the stairs, always unprepared for what I might find. I kept my ears open for any hint that she was simply sleeping. The light glowed underneath the closed bedroom door and I knew that she was inside; asleep or passed out from an overdose, I could never be sure.

Pushing on the door, it didn’t budge; a little harder and I could tell she’d put the chair to the vanity under the doorknob to keep out intruders such as myself. I could hear the clicking of an object and I couldn’t be sure what it was.

“Seely, open the door,” I said to her through the crack I’d formed between the door and the frame.

She was out of sight, which left me still unsure of what the clicking I’d heard before was.

“Babe, come on,” I said, “open the door.”

I pushed harder and the barrier opened a tiny bit more. One more push and I’d broken through her barricade. She was standing with her back facing me, her hands playing with the object in front her chest, but still out of my sight. Her long, brunette hair hung to the middle of her back and she was wearing a slimming backless, black dress that had no occasion to be worn for tonight.

“Seely,” I whispered, entering the room more cautiously than I had while climbing the stairs.

Edging closer to her, I suddenly recognized the clicking coming from between her fingers. I gently touched her shoulder and she turned to face me, tears streaming down her face. Her mascara was a mess over her rosy cheeks and the circular indent from the barrel of my small handgun was imprinted against the side of her forehead.

She’d dressed up to die and I’d interrupted her date with death.

“I can’t figure out how to load it,” she said with her eyes glazed over in tears, mascara continuing to streak down her face.

“Jesus Seely,” I said and quickly grabbed the weapon from her. “What the hell are you doing?”

The safety of the gun had been switched off and she’d placed one bullet inside the chamber. I unloaded the weapon and placed it in the closet, making a mental note to get rid of it in the morning. Returning out of the closet, Seely had sunken against the wall, hugging her knees to her chest, tears steadily streaming down her face and landing on top of her legs.

I ran my hand through my hair, tugging on it out of frustration. I sighed in anger and closed my eyes in an attempt of thinking what I should do next.

“Why do you do this?” I asked her from across the room. “Why?”

She only shook her head and I knew she held the words on the tip of her tongue but could never tell me what exactly was going on inside her mind.

“Why can’t you see that it’s not your time?” I said a little louder, “why can’t you accept that?”

“Because I don’t want to be here anymore,” she said with the same tone of voice that I had. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“Well God doesn’t want you yet; it’s not your time,” I was almost yelling at her now. “Don’t you think if it was your turn he’d have taken you the first time I found you with three bottles of pills swallowed? Why would he let you live long enough to have your stomach pumped and survive?” I paused, letting my words sink in. “Or the second time when you wrapped your car around that tree and you hadn’t been wearing your seatbelt. The suicide note was taped to the dashboard and your body was ejected from the car a few feet away. You should’ve died, Seely, but you didn’t. He doesn’t want you yet.”

She was sobbing now as I dug up her skeletons from the past. I sighed loudly and knelt down beside her, grabbing her hands and holding them in mine. The truth was, I didn’t know if it was her time or not. I didn’t know if God wanted her right now, tomorrow, the next year or in fifty years, but I knew that she couldn’t get lucky three times. She’d upgraded to the gun I had stashed in the closet and I knew there’d be no coming back from the bullet she was preparing to take to the side of her head.

“Seely, talk to me,” I whispered to her. “Tell me what’s going on inside.”

“You wouldn’t understand,” she whispered.

And I knew that I wouldn’t but it didn’t stop me from trying.
I like writing about the wars that rage inside that no one else is able to understand.
All the locked messages,
Saved on my phone.
That little paddle lock,
Saving themselves from deletion.

All the locked messages,
Remind me of how I fell so hard.
But recovered without a scratch or cut,
Because you were there to catch me.
Open for suggestions :)
Every Monday morning,
My teacher repeats the same command.
"Look alive" she says,
Even though, I already feel dead.
Along with all the other days of the week too.
And add to that list,
The past few weeks,
And since you've been gone,
Go ahead and add the past year too.
I could blame it on the fact,
That it's Monday,
But I know that's not true.
It's that you've been long gone,
But a part of me,
Still seems to miss you.
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