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When my mother is tired, I offer to make her tea. She wants a beer, and even though I don't like it, I pour it for her anyway.

When my mother is tired, I offer to make her fried chicken. She says she doesn't want me to cook for her.. 19 years of cooking my meals and she doesn't want me to cook for her.. So I put in two pieces of toast and burn it just how she likes it and put on extra butter because I know she likes that too.

When my mother is tired, I tell her to call me on her bad day, tell her that even if I do nothing but sit there, it'll be okay because she doesn't have to face the sadness alone.

When my mother is tired, her eyes make triangles and her shoulders slump and she smiles so hard that I think it must hurt her jaw bones. The spirit of her eyes goes dim and her forehead forms creases like mountains and when my mother is tired..

I just want to see her sleep and dream. She so deserves to dream.
My mother had a bad day. The worst in a long time. Take off your armor mama, I'll take your place on the front lines.
It's hard letting go.
I'm finally at peace, but it feels wrong.
Slow, I'm getting up.
My hands and feet are weaker than before.

And you are folded on the bed,
Where I rest my head.
There's nothing I can see,
Darkness becomes me.

But I'm already there.
I'm already there.
Wherever there is you,
I will be there too.

There's nothing that I'd take back.
But it's hard to say there's nothing I regret.

Cause when I sing, you shout.
I breathe out loud.
You bleed, we crawl like animals.
But when it's over, I'm still awake.

A thousand silhouettes,
dancing on my chest.
No matter where I sleep,
you are haunting me.

But I'm already there,
I'm already there.
Wherever there is you,
I will be there too.
But I'm already there,
I'm already there.
Wherever there is you,
I will be there too.

Cause I'm already there,
I'm already there,
Wherever there is you,
I will be there too.
 Feb 2014 Damaged
Matthew Walker
One year ago exactly, I awoke to the miserable news that my dear friend, Morgan Helman, was dead. I called her voicemail and wept my goodbyes. I punched the wall and screamed until I thought my lungs would crack. I wrote a poem to express the ravaging anguish I was experiencing, and to try and honor her life. I read it as a eulogy at her funeral. In it, I mentioned a time when she had asked me to write a happy poem. Everything I had ever written was a result of sadness or some other tortured emotion. I apologized that what I wrote for her was far from happy. I told her someday I would a write a happy poem, though I doubted my own words. One year later, I have walked away from the depressed mental state I used to call home. On the anniversary of her passing, I completed this "happy" poem. It's different than what I'm used to creating. It might not be as artistic as some of my other poetry. But it is a vivid expression of the first step in a new direction. This poem is dedicated to Morgan Helman and the legacy of love she left in her wake.

You Are

Resonating laughter
as the child plays,
hallway smiles
on bad days.

Disney movies
when I'm sick,
lightsaber battles
as a kid.

Rope swings
for make believe Peter-Panning,
backyard sprinklers
spraying the trampoline.

Hot soup
after it snows,
Refreshing popsicles
when the sun glows.

Warm cookies
melting in my mouth,
playing cards
at Grandma's house.

Blazing campfires
engulfed in inspiration,
jam sessions
with passionate musicians.

Barefoot freedom
in the grass and on the beach,
Sandy paradise
sinking beneath my feet.

Captivating books
as it gently rains,
favorite songs
when I'm disarrayed.

Intimate poetry
as my soul sings,
genuine happiness
spilling out of me.

Caring parents
whose admiration lasts,
trustworthy friends
who remove my masks.

Comforting arms
when my friend dies,
calloused hands
pulling tears from drowning eyes.

Raw love
strung on splintered wood,
My God
you are everything good.

~ m.w. ~
2/3/14
I had a box of letters that I kept hidden in the crawl space in the attic. They were all to you. I would read through old stories and moments that we shared and the fire in my chest would burn even higher than before. I wrote to you, and told you how you seemed like the air and that I wanted to breathe you in. How you were the sun, and I wanted to spend my whole life in the summer. How you were the rain, and how I fell for you to be like the rain too. One day I got angry, angry because it had stopped raining, yet the sun didnt show through. And I tried to take in lungfulls of air but I choked on nothing. I took our box of letters and secrets, our box of late night tear stains and drunken conversations and lit a match. I burnt them all. So I could just forget about everything and the fire would die out inside of me. But I found that box today with only one letter inside. "J-," it read, "it has always been you. -S" you'll never see it. But it has.. It has always been you.
 Jan 2014 Damaged
xxxx
When will you realize
That your words
Are like knives
Piercing your daughter's
Fragile little heart
Venting through poetry.

/drdc/
and inside i was a tide
but all they saw were barely ripples
and inside i was screaming
but no one heard me begging there

And inside i was a mess
but they decided that my hair was neat
and that i was already clean
because they didnt see the shadows lurking under my eyes
or the dust collecting in my thoughts

and when i wasnt even hiding
when i knelt down and prayed
you said that you were always there
but you never dared to answer me

because i am still ******* here
and though i beg for you to let me go
i wake up and my heart still beats...
i thought you were always listening

and inside i was dead
how i wished that the outside
would show it
Have you ever tried to flex your heart to make sure it was still in your chest?

Everytime you tried to choke down what was hurting you, you realized it didn't matter anymore.

Lately, I've been doing okay. Except when the night starts telling secrets to the dawn so I have to make sure they don't whisper your name.

Please, don't worry about me though. Just focus on being happy.



Maybe one day, things will be in a place where you can see a shadow and smile without swallowing shards of glass.

E**ven though I promised to always be here, it will **** is both if I stay. I'm so sorry.
Help me.
 Jan 2014 Damaged
maisie khan
1.You were a bad person that said all the right things.

2. I never thought I would love you.

3. I tried so hard not to love you.

4. I fell so deeply, so overwhelmingly in love with you.

5. I really did think you loved me, too.

6. You were the only reason I wanted to get out of bed.

7. You made even more of a mess of my head.

8. I liked myself when I was with you.

9. I trusted you with my life.

10. You were in every drop of blood in my veins.

11. When we kissed, it felt like you were stealing away all of this pain.

12. You lied to me.

13. Who was she?

14. You were supposed to be my friend.

15. Why wasn't I enough for you?

16. Friends don't do what you did to me.

17. When you left, you took a piece of me with you.

18. I hate myself because you're not here anymore.

19. I hate the person I've become since you've left.

20. It was naive and weak of me to think you were the answer.

21. It was cruel of you to do what you did.

22. It kills me knowing that you touched my life, whilst I barely left a mark on yours.

23. I forgive you, but I can not forget.

24. I hate you.

25. I love you.
 Jan 2014 Damaged
Em
Life I guess
 Jan 2014 Damaged
Em
My mind is racing. I can't stop thinking. Thinking about everything, nothing. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to think; I could just know. Life would be easier that way, simpler. I wouldn't have to worry about making the wrong decision or never knowing if your feelings were true. I could just know. I'd be sure of it. Yes, it would be easier, simpler. Too bad that'll never happen.
I'm bound to make mistakes, destined to never knowing, to regretting so much yet... yet, not enough.
I guess it's just part of life.
Written 1.4.14
 Jan 2014 Damaged
Em
I'm numb. I can't feel anything, nothing at all. It's as if I'm trapped in a deep, dark abyss with no way out. And no one can know. I'm living in a state of utter carelessness. I don't care what's happened, what's happening, nor what is about to happen. I find it difficult to care about anyone or anything. Hell, I can't even care about myself. There are times when I just want it all to be over. I want this battle to end. There are times when I just want to be happy, truly happy, for once. I wanna know what it's like to feel again. But no one sees it. No one sees me breaking. No one can see that I'm dying from the inside out. No one sees the subtle hints I drop everywhere in desperation of being found out. No, no one can see through the constant, everyday "I'm fine", no one can see through the indefinite fake smiles flashed toward them. No, they can't.

Because I'm alright, only dying.
Written 1.23.14
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