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maxine Oct 2020
how does one admit that they are the problem?
how does one accept that they’re a monster?
how does one allow themselves to push away the people they wanted to stay forever?
how does one overcome the thoughts of wanting to join the angels in heaven more than wanting to stay with their angels on earth?
how does one cope?
how does one keep themselves from turning into everything they despise?
i am one.
can someone answer me?
i thought after all this time i would’ve been able to escape the dark, but more and more it seems like sunlight no longer exists.
maxine Jun 2019
the phone rings in the middle of the night, it's not my father, he doesn't even know what i look like
to have love reciprocated, that's all i really want
abandonment seems like a sweet gesture at this point
i'm tired of threatening and being threatened
i wish someone would just follow through
but then again,
who am i to speak?
endless days in the emergency room,
countless attempts,
no resolve.
no one cares.
when did that happen?
i try not to dwell on the past.
but is it dwelling if i can't tell the difference between 3 years ago and now?
i feel forever lost at sea.
maxine May 2019
i'm going to die
that part is inevitable
you aren't going to miss me
i wish that part was avoidable
but chances are
when i gasp for one last breath
you'll be somewhere laughing
while my spirit releases into the air
like one of those balloons that kids only love for 5 minutes
you make me want to inhale enough helium to float away.
maxine May 2019
the worst lie i ever told was "i love you"
my best truth was realizing it
my heart aches to love you
my brain begs for me to stop falling into a never-ending trap
  Mar 2019 maxine
Mims
And I am holding hands with my depression while it screams into a microphone
It's used to being center stage
The center of attention
Poking, proding
I'll kiss my love on the lips and it'll tug at my shirt whispering
"I'm still here"

It'll grab at me on car rides
Pinch my walking down the street
Make my nose bleed in bookstores
Break my fingers in urban outfitters
"I'm still here"
"I'm still here!"
"I'M STILL HERE!!"
Slowly getting louder as I try to push it down

Sometimes I muffle it
Quiet it
But I can never completely silence it
My hand slips
And a battle cry is released into the night
the duct tape wasn't tight enough
Or maybe my grip

I guess I stopped kicking it eventually
Stopped fighting it
Stop tying it
It was
The thing I kept in my basement but instead of me trying to make it stay and it trying to escape
it fought me to be cemented in my mind
taking all my resources starving me emotionally

Maybe sometimes physically

I accepted that it was a part of me

I let sing to me
Occasionally
After all
We're both in the basement
And we're

bored

It would sing things
Hopeless,
Frantic,
Scary things

They don't like you
There isn't a point in breathing it's mundane, it's uninteresting

You have hurt so many people and been hurt by so many people you're beginning to forget where the line is
And which side you're on


If she knew you now
She'd be disappointed
But she's dead
She died before you tried to let her learn who you grew into


They'll all die

You'll die

We are all just putting off the inevitable
Isolate yourself


You know you're happier alone
You know he doesnt really love you
So stop answering the phone



One night
My depression took out a knife
And slit her thighs
I was asleep but she bled on me all night
And in my dreams

I knew the warmth was from tragedy

Though I never bled with her
I let her keep me red

Keep me angry

"You'll never have a dad!" she yells.

"You'll never go away"
I frown at the shriveled little body of memories and chemical imbalances and tubes and guts and hearts and other dismembered parts
And I think

I've known you for so long
But i've never really looked at you

I am surprised
How different
How separate
We are

You grab me
Poke me
Yell at me
Hold me
Hurt me

But you

Are not

Attached to






                                 Me.
This poem could've gone so many different ways, but this is how it ended up.
  Mar 2019 maxine
cielo
dear my blues listen
you're not fine, it's not okay
you'll run out of breath
haiku
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