my dad always told me
if you ever want to be the best at something
you have to start at a young age.
i didn't mean to be the best
at coming up with a good prayer
at christmas dinner,
but since my name is grace,
that's basically a silent volunteer
to be the one to say it right?
i didn't mean to be the best
at lying on the spot about
buying bandaids in excess
or using the reference of
"it was just for poetic effect".
i guess i took it the wrong way.
my dad always told me
during thunderstorms
and tornado warnings
that i should never be scared
unless he is scared.
but that's near impossible
because nowadays, i get scared
hearing my name in public and
i don't think he'd start shaking
at the mention of prescription drugs
or at the sight of a white car
in the rear view mirror.
i've learned to stop taking his advice.
people say to leave the past in the past
but what do they say to the past
about staying away from the present?
my father was born deaf,
but with all of the times recently
that i've been calling out for help
i'm beginning to think that
it's my mom who is really the deaf one.
or maybe it's just the fact
that people tend to simply hear
what's said, and not listen.
for a couple of years
there was this pattern
where i would have dreams
of just regular realistic things
and they would actually happen
play by play
in "real life".
& lately,
i've been having this reoccurring dream
of driving off of a bridge.
& now i've found myself
taking the long way home
more often than not
for a chance to cross one.
not because i want it to happen
but more to test my consistency i guess.
my dad always told me
when he would wake me up
really early in the morning
that if you look close enough,
everything is a different shade of blue.
& since then, i've decided
that all i ask for
is to be remembered
as the time of day
when everything is blue.

does lighting a candle
in remembrance of someone
work the same way
if it's only in memory
of who someone used to be?

it’s been raining in every dream
I’ve had since you left.
i still love it wholeheartedly.
and I really mean this when I say it,
so that the rain doesn’t have to feel anywhere near the way I did
for those 7 months.
the sound of voices is always
the memory that fades the quickest for me.
I don’t know if I am sad over this or thankful.
I do know that I’ve never been happier
in the past year than the day when
I tried to recall what you looked like
and I couldn’t piece your features together
just right anymore.
I don’t think I would wish all of this hurting
even on the person who caused it for me.
I knew you were a thunderstorm
of a person but not in that way.
I didn’t expect you to be the kind
that would deprive me of any shelter
I had within myself.
any security I felt in my own skin
would be gone in your aftermath.
my mom always told me not to fall
for any boy that reminded me of my dad.
and I don’t know if you recall the day
where I told you your hands
had always felt familiar to me.
I’ve always loved thunderstorms.
I still watch them meticulously
but I always end up in a cold sweat
and little does anyone know
that it is for fear of catching your eye color
in the clouds surrounding a lightning flash.
and little do I know
the chances of hazel clouds
are slim to none.

teach me how to make emotions out of words.
show me with your hands how much you regretted letting go.
or do you even regret it at all?
the way it felt to have them slip right through your fingers,
does the memory of it still haunt you?
do you still get phantom pains
because their shadow isn't where it always was
on the sidewalk next to yours?
show me with your chest just where you wish
you could feel their touch again.
everything you would trade for the pictures
to turn back into memories.
or for the memories to turn back into moments.
show me with your eyes all that you have been through.
how you've noticed the detail of the tile on your bathroom floor
more in the last two months
than you have your whole life.
show me with your lips
that blowing out the candles only gets harder every year
when you look across the table at an empty seat.
use them to tell me everything you have seen
from the depths of the ocean to the heights of heaven
& i will not rest until i've watched every memory
you own emerge from within your head.
& also, tell me, do you ever get tired of living in
perpetual shades of blue?
i could watch you speak endlessly,
now show me with your heart
everything you are & everything you are not.
lastly, show me just how much you miss me

without using your voice.


g.b.

i cannot wait
for the day
that i can return
to stardust.

i wish i could tell you how much i don’t miss your touch anymore.
how much i shudder at the very thought of it.
i wish i could tell you why i only take burning
hot showers. i want every memory of you
gone from my skin.
every possible reminder of what you did to me erased.
loving you was like being sentenced to prison
for a crime i was brainwashed into believing i committed.
your hands were the iron bars that knew what
you were holding in, knew that i was innocent.
has every girl had to do this?
have we all wanted every kiss you planted on our bodies undone?
god, you disgust me. i disgust me.
i never asked for all the force you used,
or your invasions, or your eruptions.
i shouldn’t have felt as if i was walking on eggshells
with someone who was supposed to love me.
you had me locked up, pinned down, restrained
for one year of my life, & i am finally free.

i am finally free.

do you still cringe when you step on leaves in the fall? is it because the sound reminds you of the way your dad broke your heart before any boy had the chance to?

my question is, how can someone say “i love you” without having the promise of the universe backing them up? how can those words slip through the gaps in your teeth if not every single bone in your body agrees? can’t your lips tell the difference by now? can’t they close their gates prior to the escape so no one else has to look up the definition of an empty promise? imagine if your body wouldn't let you say “i love you” unless you really meant it..

how can one person make you feel trapped & safe at the same time? how can one person make you feel so alone & so complete all at once? quite frankly i’m tired of being only half of a whole. can’t i be whole on my own? can you see the light in the word “us”? it’s as bright as a wildfire to me & only a flame to you but that’s alright. don’t you know by now that there’s a silent “don’t leave me” in the word trust? all i’ve ever done is give you all i had, & maybe that’s why i’m always left feeling incomplete. can’t you see the blood pouring from my pen right now? i’m bleeding out every word for you.

all of these unsaid words are beginning to leave paper cuts on the inside of my cheeks. i would write them down & mail them to you but every time i pick up a pencil to do it, i keep coughing up envelopes without return addresses.

i have bruises on the insides of my eyelids from always seeing you in my dreams. you come so close to me that i can feel the heat between us. it's one of those dreams that when you wake up, you question whether it was really a dream or real life. that's how real it feels but you're so blurry. like i must be looking through tear-filled eyes. i look so closely & focus so hard trying to get the blurs out of your image but i ******* can't. i can never do it.

i have burn marks underneath my fingernails from always reaching for things that scorch me. i can practically see the ******* flames but i always reach anyway, why don't i learn? this may sound crazy but sometimes i wish that someone else would hurt me so i wouldn't be standing here all alone, still the only one responsible for all of my own scars.

i can’t seem to decide which is worse; missing someone who’s right in front of you, or missing someone you haven’t seen in years. missing someone who’s right in front of you is torture to the eyes & hands. the eyes can see exactly who it is they’re missing. they see their smile, the way they move, how they’re doing without you. the hands crave their touch & miss how it felt with their fingers interlocked in your own. they’re within reach, but not close enough for them to grasp. that’s what kills them. missing someone you haven’t seen in years is torture to the ears & feet. the ears have the last words they spoke to you stuck on repeat throughout the day, haunting them. sometimes they swear they heard them call out your name the way they used to. the feet want to walk to this person, & try to often, but get lost & can’t remember where home is anymore. both forms are torture to the heart. missing someone, no matter in what way, takes over your entire body until that's all you are anymore. that's all that's left of you.

gb