Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2023 · 79
Empty
Grace Haak Dec 2023
The house stands still as the sunshine trickles in
The only movement from the sparkles dancing through the window
Glinting of the glass of a hundred chandeliers
And although glittering,
The blinding bling is lonely until nightfall
When the candles are lit as tiny sparks through the glass
The shadows now shimmering as the day comes to pass
And night is almost brighter than the light
As countless couples gather for the colossal affair
Sauntering up and down marble steps
Tripping over silk gowns
Stumbling into raw ivy walls
Filling glass goblets with golden champagne
Bubbles to spark any conversation at all
Filling the soul with warmth and excitement
Until everyone’s minds are clouded and coruscating
Flashing diamonds and expensive watches
Pouring flute after flute
Until the notorious night comes to a close
And the stars from the champagne sparkles fade
Into early morning sun
Pale through the window
Waking up the chandeliers
While the rest of the house remains empty,
Yearning for another glimpse of life
Day after day.
gatsby-esque
Dec 2023 · 86
composure
Grace Haak Dec 2023
you see me as carnation pink
like the flowers you left on my porch
i'm feeling more of a seething red
like the innermost flame of a torch
i don't want to crack in front of you
but how many angsty songs can i play
you call me a saint, that's a tall task
it's hard because what am i to say?
i've been programmed to believe
that any ounce
any drop
of emotion
is too much
and i am crazy and in the wrong
but i consider myself
to be seasoned in reason
deluged in logic
i will let out a sigh
and turn the music up louder
at least you're not here to see me suffer
but then again
that's part of the problem
isn't it?
Nov 2023 · 100
I'm hating on a highway
Grace Haak Nov 2023
I'm hating on a highway
That has done nothing but connect me to you
So I know that it isn't fair
But don't worry
Soon I will be hating on a runway
And a skyline
And a stupid game I play
Called what ifs
I "what if this" and "what if that"
So much that my head pounds
And my heart hurts
And my lips pout
I haven't felt for so long
That now I feel too much
And I feel crazy!
Thanks for that.
But also thank you for a lot more
And I want to keep thanking you
But if I keep falling
I will end up splat on the sidewalk
Hungover on said highway
Rejected on said runway
I want to run away
From this reality
And live in my own mind
It's chaotic there
But you're there, too
So everything makes
Just a little bit more sense
And there's a little less regret
And the highway doesn't feel so long anymore.
Grace Haak Nov 2023
I can handle blood, okay?
Knuckles when my wraps are loose
Sucker punches to the nose
Scalpels, scissors, screws
When the first incision flows
What I can't handle
Is knowing that I could slip from your mind
Into a pile of spontaneous moments
A slew of songs and stars
A collection of couches and cars
I check my phone too often now
So do not disturb stays on
Because when I do it,
Your message lives in a paradox of quantum superposition
Both sent and unsent, simultaneously
I don't have to wait in pain for pings
To remind me that you care
You crush me with care
But I will have to leave
My land of delusion
State of confusion
Cut off the perfusion
And come to a conclusion
My conclusion is:
I hate that my heart hurts
I hate reality sinking in
I hate leaving behind sparkles
Why couldn't they just stay locked up
In my all-too-familiar bottle of prosecco?
Why did you have to shake it up
And leave shimmer all over me?
Why do you make me want to
Sacrifice precious sleep
For another chance to impress you
And make you want me again?
I'm now not-so-subtle
Which nauseates me more
Than waiting for the first cut
Because you made me care
What a concept!
I don't know if it's a nerve block or what
But I once was feeling stuck
And now I can breathe again
I don't even know what I leave you with
So I will start with words
And Christmas lights
I hope you hang up Christmas lights
I'll stay in my world of romanticism
While methodically trying to not seem crazy
I'm never like this
But there's just something about you
That has made me want to write poetry again.
Nov 2023 · 54
Against the Wall
Grace Haak Nov 2023
Throw me up against the wall!
Tie me up and let me fall
I hate soft scenes and caressing cheeks
Love isn’t patient nor for the meek
I drown and rise until I fly
Only to sink and sparkle across the sky
You’ll be pleased to know you’re the reason why.
Nov 2023 · 63
if only
Grace Haak Nov 2023
his cologne left on my shoulder
as he said goodbye to me that day
his laughter stuck inside my head
as i scrambled for something to say
his green eyes filled with fireflies
as i tried to find something to do
his sweet words keep me up at night
and if only, if only he knew.
Aug 2023 · 308
summer by taylor swift
Grace Haak Aug 2023
electric touch

begin again

fearless

everything has changed

cruel summer

come back...be here

the very first night

august
Grace Haak Jun 2023
You say you are flickering
a candle in the night
You say you are quivering
coming too close to the light
You say you are shooting
like firework glitter
You say you are sharp
like coffee too bitter
You say you are boring
like 8am math class
You say you are itchy
like sitting on dead grass
You say you are gnawing
like dogs on a bone
You say you are rasping
like a guttural groan
You say you are cutting
like scissors and shears
You say you are frightful
but what are your fears?
Let me see
I think that’s cabinet twenty-three
Or maybe twenty-four?
Nevermind, that one is sore
I swear I organized this place
My papers each have their own space!
You say you’re piercing and pounding
at the same time?
I’m not sure my files have reason for that rhyme
If you’re cold, here’s a blanket
If you’re hot then I’ll take it
I know you’re trying to tell me,
I know you wouldn’t fake it.
Just fill out this checklist
I’ll be back in a few
Just give me the gist
So I can diagnose you.
“Pain is invisible. Proving it even exists is difficult – it doesn’t show up on a scan and there is no hard evidence of its presence. Communicating about pain is also problematic, it relies on the verbal accounts of the people who experience it, but these accounts are not always believed.”
Grace Haak Jun 2023
How nice would it be if
Empathy
Was as easy as cross check done move on?
As simple as sewing several stitches
Slapping on a “come back in a few weeks”
Put some ice on it and pop a few pills?

Empathy means realizing no trauma has discrete edges.
Trauma bleeds.
Out of wounds and across boundaries.
Sadness becomes a seizure.

When someone carves their soul open
Letting its contents spill out
The blood and guts in all their glory
How can the bandaid of that must really be hard
Stop the stream of sorrow?
How do we expect to be a tourist in the suffering of others
While reducing them to a bundle of symptoms?

Empathy is not a meteor shower of synapses
Firing across the brain
It is a choice we make to extend ourselves.

If you want to show empathy
Get your bags packed and your passport ready
You enter another person’s pain
As you’d enter another country.
You crawl into that box
Even if it’s a tight fit
And you sit.
And you listen.
And you let yourself be pierced by pain and bittersweetness
And you look for the horizon beyond the visible.
You don’t steal an experience, but you share the slice of story.
You learn that even if you mark checklist item thirty-one
It will never be over, never really cross check done.
Grace Haak Jun 2023
When I first heard that cats were stuffed in poison boxes
“For the sake of physics!”
And that I was being pulled by particle puppeteers
Bending at the will of the quark queens
I wanted to snip the invisible strings
That entangled me into time-
      My brain is plastic, but not that plastic.
But we all know that no thread means dead,
And with the closing of shears comes the closing of years,
So somehow I have to accept the entwinement of time,
Calling it an envelope versus suffocation,
Embracing my identity as another fish in the net.
My life is a tumultuous tumbling into truth
So I’ll bite-
     I’ll let it wrap its layers around me.
After all, I’m no stranger to strange connection;
If I ever have time to spare,
I turn apples to eyes and hearts to metal
in the matter of a nanosecond.
But how can I meet a stranger
And call it love
In a picosecond?
How can I stretch into the sundae of sky
With stars scattered like sprinkles
And reach the caramel core of connection?
This isn’t one scoop of constellation confetti, please-
It’s not as simple as a cup or cone.
This is the sticky saltwater taffy
Before it is wrapped into ribbons.
So I grab my hammer and go to town.
It’s not easy, and sometimes
My neurons want to melt
dri
     p  p
    i
        ng
Down the page
But I grit my teeth and demand
The particles to stop propagating
For one second
And talk to me as a galaxy pedestrian.
They tell me that
The only way to see my string
Is to sit with you.
And with what time?
With no notepad?
With nothing but two forces
Tied together with
Nothing but coffee in between?
These particles can’t process
Time constraints, deadlines, schedules.
I sigh, and I try anyway.
When suddenly I am not on your sofa
But your rollercoaster
The thread of our souls made visible
With each dip and dive, each loop and lurch
You give me a piece of your world.
And suddenly we are not strangers
And tugging at heartstrings
Means something new
The layers of universe
Lead me to you.
Grace Haak Jun 2023
When we talk about illness
We dump our words into buckets
And swing them around
Carelessly
Never noticing them trickle out
My point is that illness is not a metaphor.
And yet how will we fill our pints
Without overflowing?
How can we cross the border
To the land of the sick
Taking up residence in the kingdom of the ill
unprejudiced by the lurid metaphors
with which it has been landscaped?
Can we say “cancer”
Without meaning “death?”
Can we say “disease”
Without conjuring evil magic?
Must we isolate ourselves
For the sake of stigma?
How do we view lack of health healthily?
The cure is to watch the line
Where metaphor turns misconception
Misconstruction, miscalculation
Dialogue turned delusion
The cure is compassion
Consideration, care
Curating a concept you can control
Curbing the conventions of concealment
The beauty of language
Is it liberates us
From leaky buckets
From chains to change
We can choose how we speak
We become full
Without overindulging.
Dec 2021 · 236
lingering effects
Grace Haak Dec 2021
It's no longer that sharp kind of pain
that shocks you
and leaves you breathless.
It's the consistent, dull thud
of a daily constant
the throb you can get through,
you just have half the oxygen
and half the strength.
The entire world is going
at a million miles an hour
and I have drooped;
sticky eyelids, purple rings
a film covering everything I see.
I used to cope by releasing the
uncontrollable sobs in the shower-
it was more efficient to make a mess of myself
while simultaneously being cleaned.
Now I feel so much that I don't feel like I feel at all.
I wake up covered in sweat and existential dread
knowing that the day holds sagging eyes
and a fake it til you make it mindset
that turns into lying because you haven't made it.
How do you describe your feelings
of cotton coupled with regret
without sounding like a basket case?
You don't,
so you shift your gaze
and shove it down
and drown yourself in anything else.
You remain collected
as you crawl out of your skin
if the outside offense is exhaustion,
it holds no candle to the tumultuous
that is those threads piecing you together inside.
The strings may eventually thin and snap
but for now you are upright
with some slight skin slumping
a small price to pay
for having it all.
Grace Haak Sep 2021
if my words
don't make your stomach hurt
like the feeling of
watching
the first incision
the thick dark icing
pouring out
messy and mesmerizing
nasty and nauseating
then you need another slice
Sep 2021 · 188
West Aurora Park
Grace Haak Sep 2021
past rows of cookie-cutter houses
the left bike path gives way
to the red metal playground
where my brothers and i lived
our dad chasing us
hiding in the tube of the slide
spending hours on our spaceship
jedis outsmarting darth vader and the dark side

the stretches of field
lace their ways around the street
like the green apple sour belts
we ate until our tongues hurt
watching pick-up games
my brother and his basketball wins
dribbling with his friends
while lemon popsicles dribbled down our chins

the giant lake
filled with brightly colored kois
storks serenely standing out on rocks
i sang to them as if they listened
water rushing into our ears
balancing on a worn-out waterfall
everything man-made
and everything beautiful

the burnished blacktop
not a blemish in sight
no cars barreling down the road
our wheels would glide so silently
racing up and down smooth street
so shiny it hurt your eyes
pedaling and peeling away
if you go fast enough you could fly

the lamppost on the corner
carved into by kids
generations of neighborhood
gone as we grow up
and yet the light was never lost
the pink sky fades to dark
but to revisit and recollect
is just a walk in the park
Apr 2021 · 440
This Poem is Plastic
Grace Haak Apr 2021
-an entry from the National Library of Medicine National Institutes of Health-

processes protruding
excitatory synapses
cerebral circuits
dendritic differentiation

growth is     s         lo           w.

a complex dance, unfolding of a blueprint; how do we understand this dance?

stress stress stress stress stress learn grow develop stress stress stress stress stress

the brain is sensitive! plastic changes are not all permanent
                                 permanent
                                 permanent

choose...you­r...psychomotor stimulants!
amphetamine
*******
nicotine

choose:
gray or white matter
schizophrenia or drug addiction
ADHD or depression

the brain structures will not be changed;
pathological plasticity = pathological pain

                                                           ­                      not all plasticity is good
just like a sculptor
who creates a statue
with a block of stone
and a chisel
to remove the unwanted pieces

in vivo → cell death
Apr 2021 · 328
translation
Grace Haak Apr 2021
Les Roses de Saadi by Marceline Desbordes-Valmore

J'ai voulu ce matin te rapporter des roses;
Mais j'en avais tant pris dans mes ceintures closes
Que les noeuds trop serrés n'ont pu les contenir.

Les noeuds ont éclaté. Les roses envolées
Dans le vent, à la mer s'en sont toutes allées.
Elles ont suivi l'eau pour ne plus revenir.

La vague en a paru rouge et comme enflammée.
Ce soir, ma robe encore en est toute embaumée . . .
Respires-en sur moi l'odorant souvenir

The Roses of Saadi by Marceline Desbordes-Valmore

I wanted to bring you roses this morning;
But I had closed so many in my sash
That the knots were too tight to contain
them.

The knots split.
The roses blew away.
All blew off to the sea,
borne by the wind,
Carried to the water, never to return.

The waves looked red as if inflamed.
Tonight, my dress is still perfumed.
Breathe in the fragrant memory.









Eau de parfum: mémoire en bouteille
by Grace Haak

The remembrance reverberates.

I see a silk sash stuffed with splendor
Trinkets collected from a local vendor
Knots ******* as if a form of art
Thorns pressed up against my heart
But for you, I’d pierce my soul.

The recollection resonates.

I feel wind entangle my hair in twists
Matted and messy from soft sea mist
Dripping and damp from a walk too far
Only thought is getting to where you are
But for you, I’d run forever.

The reminiscence resounds.

I smell a sweet scent of rose
The kind that always tickles my nose
Stuck in an overpowering haze
A sickly aroma drags me into a daze
But for you, I’d plant a garden.

Sometimes, when I forget to forget you
I leave the sea with crushed petals
and stained hands.
The blood on my hands
is yours.

I’ll wither and wilt,
wondering why
you left all your flowers
when you said goodbye.

When I knock back my own perfume,
the roses re-echo
he loves me he loves me not he loves me he loves me not

Poor girl. He doesn’t even give you a thought.
Grace Haak Apr 2021
I knew it was bad when my fingernails were ringed
with red
as I ran them over ribbons and excused myself
from confetti cake to make them
redder.

my head was burning
a sparkling candle burning
my hands were yearning
a spazzing sticking yearning

my family was singing
a muffled stifling singing
my ears were ringing
a loud ear-piercing ringing

sing
ring
sting
stop stop stop my scalp is stinging

Nothing was clear until my fingernails
were red
and coated with pieces of my head:
rubbed raw and picked clean
You’re telling me
this is something you haven’t seen?

It doesn’t make sense because:
I don’t put pencils in a perfect pristine line
I don’t count my cheerios before I can dine
I can turn the lights on and off just fine
but my fingernails
are red
and apparently that’s a sign.


I can tell you where
every single pinprick lives
and spreads fire down my scalp
into my brain
How it tells me
your math homework can wait
save me
or you’ll go insane

My nails are short
but still red
My brain is intact
but still missing its head

Oh, how I could See the Disorder in a
demented disturbed decision
to forfeit my favorite vanilla cake
for blood

stop stop stop, i’m begging you, brain

you can’t stop; you know you need pain
leave me alone, and you’ll go insane.
Mar 2021 · 216
I see a ghost everyday
Grace Haak Mar 2021
I have never seen a specter so graceful
yet so distortedly horrible
it’s like looking into silver
and seeing
shadow
where you should smile at
ruby lips and crystalline eyes

instead you watch skin melt
like a box of crayons in hell
are we not in hell
I see a ghost everyday

I see her glide down
and shimmer in the rain
she looks like madness
like straight sin stuck in spirit
encased in gilded goblets
just don’t scratch the surface
or you’ll be disappointed

they want to hold her until
it comes to walking home
she knows she will drift
down wet sidewalks alone
no one can see her anyway
apparitions are hallucinations

I would like to paint my vision
but alas, I only have graphite
so I’ll describe her in light:
there is something so beautifully sinister about chandeliers

everyone wants to swing on glass crystals
until
they
shatter
and all of a sudden you cry
phantom
Grace Haak Mar 2021
It all seems so business
so pleasantly polite...so black-hides-the-blue..so completely unlike you.
I close my eyes and think of it often
the alternate to the unsmiling coffin
You don’t want a poem about how great you are
You want everyone singing Green Day, with Joe on guitar
You don’t want flowers falling without a sound
You want shotgunned cans of Hamm’s thrown on the ground
You don’t want scratchy collars and palms all sweaty
You want retro Nikes and confessions of confetti
You don’t want hiccups and heartache
You want plastic forks and a Costco cake.

But instead
I’m left with red-hot
blurry stinging
Perfect gray
Sad sky ringing
A gaping hole in the dug-up dirt
Filled with mounds of rock-hard hurt.
They see a nice young man
in a green striped tie
Gone too soon,
who knows why
It’s tragic
but their world keeps turning
They sympathize
but their eyes stop burning.

They don’t see a little brother open the doors
of your Jack and Jill
because his Jack has gone and left a chill.
So he can fall asleep,
he turns on the bedside light,
pretends you’re up reading
and everything is right.
You and World War II guns
always late into the night.
Mar 2021 · 652
Flavor 5: Black Licorice
Grace Haak Mar 2021
I never thought my hands would look nice held in ones of polish, chipped and black
In fact, it goes against my own advice, but once I’ve crossed, I can’t go back.
I never thought I’d want dark and twisty like the licorice in your pocket
Because Nicholas Sparks makes my eyes misty, and your eyes roll hard in their sockets.
You’re hopeless, and I’m a romantic, soft and gooey like caramel chew
My touch isn’t rushed, and yours is frantic; a bit unsettling, but still so new.
My mom would hate your earring’s dangle, my dad might mutter, “sick *******”
But I like your silver chains’ jangle, and I’m simply sick of citrus suckers.
You’re sharper than shards of icicle glass, joking about my love for the sky man
Everyone says this feeling will pass, but I’m not quite sure it can.
What started as an inky smear has become a staining smudge
And where my eyes hold doubt and fear, yours have edge and grudge.
But when you look at me they crack like your lips into a smile
You spit a halfhearted comeback, and I let myself melt in your guile.
And you let me wear your rings, slipping from my pointer and thumb
You let me sing of saccharine things, laughing while you call me dumb.
What caught your eye was the sparkle on mine, blue hidden by gold glitter
What made you stay wasn’t how they shine, but how my words could match your bitter.
You don’t know what boat shoes are; I don't know how to line my eyes
You don’t know how this got so far; I don’t know why I went counterclockwise.
But now that I’ve had a new flavor, I’ll add you to my list
I think this is one I’ll savor; it’s like sugar, but with a twist.
Mar 2021 · 1.4k
Self Incrimination
Grace Haak Mar 2021
To start your mornings with
blood on your hands
smearing across pages
is
incriminating
and inspiring
And you must know
if you were to slice open
my veins would also
spill black fountain ink
If you were to sever my tongue
my hands would speak
for me
Go ahead and gouge my eyes
I can still see
And when I die I desire
to be cut as a cadaver
All the words visible
under paper-white skin
so they will know, too.
I do not aspire to be a skeleton
with brittle bones
I want blood
to pour with every pinprick
of a pilot pen pressed
on a page
But blood makes people squirm
Blood makes people gag
so I intend to
leave this world
with a crime scene behind me.
Let them shake and shudder
for they know not
the life they’ve lost
They live in fear of papercuts
and I carve myself open
again and again
And I will continue to
until I bleed out
and my ink dries up
If it sounds violent it’s
because it has to be
The world could use a
few more bloodstains
Makes it more uncomfortable
Makes it more interesting.
Mar 2021 · 156
I see you
Grace Haak Mar 2021
Standing in the supermarket line
Pacing up and down the aisle
Colored boxes collecting in your cart
As you struggle to select
And then you choose me.
Who can blame you?
I tempt you with my tanginess
I ****** you with my sparkles
I beguile you with glitter
I fascinate you with fizz
For I know how to appeal
To those who are captivated by stars.
But be weary;
Effervescence is ephemeral
And stars disappear in daytime
My bubbly bliss ending
In a bittersweet goodbye
Nothing good lasts for long
The magic always momentary
And as quickly as I am everything
I become nothing to you
But a shiny shell of aluminum
Better suited in a blue bin
Thanks for the memories
I hope you taste lime when
You see me.
Mar 2021 · 199
Ode to La Croix
Grace Haak Mar 2021
You have scooped out the sky’s stars
Scattering them into sparkle soup
Compressing them into a can
That crackles when I crack it
I often think of how
You sit so sweetly on my shelf
Cold and crisp, you patiently perspire
How you cover my tongue in twinkles
And coat my throat in glitter
My lips fascinated by your fizz
Bubbles on my breath
And spangles as I swallow
Oh, La Croix
There are few things
That bring me as much joy
As sipping on your summertime
And seeking you in supermarkets
How I long to reunite with your refreshness
For you cure my carbonated cravings
Through your effervescent ecstasy  
With a hint of lime.
Grace Haak Mar 2021
A second is
A second is
A second
Is a minute
Is an hour
Is a million years
Is a piece of camembert
Einstein watched melting
We say we
cannot bend physics
While we will
the clocks to slow
And **** on honey-sweet
seconds
Like ants lapping
up sugar
How we twist time
like saltwater taffy
And break our
hourglasses
to scatter seconds
like sand
I do not tick tock
I would rather talk
about how time
will not fit into my
crystal frame
So what good is a clock
I say we let them liquify!
If memory assists me,
if memory persists
it’s all relative
So if my mind is on Mars
you cannot say I am late
I’m actually quite early!
how ekphrastic am i right
Grace Haak Mar 2021
You are stranded in a sea of people

Battered bodies that generally

Bob up and down until you cannot see

Who was just to your right and what

Shoes they were wearing as they

Are swept away by the swell when you look

Through thick throngs that search for

Someone slow to swallow whole and

Chew and churn until you hear

The suppressed screams of stragglers, but what

Did they expect to find when they

Wandered into the waves? Did they not listen

To the warnings? Is this not what they asked for?
my golden shovel poem
Mar 2021 · 1.4k
Road Rage
Grace Haak Mar 2021
Start by hitting snooze
Twice for good measure
Leave the house just a few minutes later
Turning right into a jam
A thick, slow traffic jam
Viscous car molasses
But much less sweet
Sit there for a second
Simmering in sweat
Your blood begins to boil
Your hands begin to clench
Grip the steering wheel
Watch the clock tick time away
Curse your screeching alarm
Curse the convertible in front of you
Curse Monday mornings
Curse anything but yourself
Know that screaming at the cars
Won’t make that red turn green
But do it anyway
Honk your horn
Flash an unfavorable finger
To the vehicles doing the same to you
How is it rush hour
When everything is lagging
Your will to move is sagging
Roll your eyes at the radio
Wishing listeners a good morning
Oblivious to your mini meltdown
Once you can peel away
And break through that barrier
Sprint down that street
Swerving aggressively
Whip into the parking lot
Pretend your throat isn’t hoarse
And your knuckles aren’t white
Go about your day
Get excited for tomorrow morning
Tuesdays are better
Right?
how-to poem
Dec 2020 · 623
dramatic interpretation
Grace Haak Dec 2020
alarm screeches at 7:30am
until slammed against the wall and silenced
but you're then awoken by the cold-sweat panic
coupled with 8am realization
that you were supposed to head to class
ten minutes ago
and with sweatpants and slippers on
you sprint into thirty degrees
fog in the air, fog on your glasses
what a way to start the day!
philosophy *****, but you can't even sleep
hair matted and face oily
you sit there and scribble
every minute passing by slower
making you angrier
and the walk back to isolation
makes your blood boil
so you splash water to get rid of the oil
but now that you're back in a dark and cold room
it's time to hop on to your class on zoom!
you are paying thousands
thousands of dollars
THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS
to group facetime your professor
and spend half the time
experiencing wifi interruptions
and roommate disruptions
and near-screaming eruptions
but then you're done.
but not really!
you have a three-hour lab
and no time to eat before
so your meal is trail mix
and you feel weak and sick
but you have to get through
your gpa is dependent upon
mixing these chemicals correctly
so much depends
upon
a red hot
face
glazed with tear
water
beside the white
lab coats
welcome to your life!
this is what you wanted,
right?
this was your dream?
but your "dream"
has been twisted
and wrung out
of its golden magic
a watered down version
of what you expected
you knew it would be different
you thought maybe a third
would be skimmed off
but, hey, lucky you!
it's not even half full
welcome to your nightmare!
i hope you had a fun day
because now you get to slave
over hours of work
staring at a blue screen
icons melting your eyes
emails ruining your life
all you know in the late hours
is wooden chairs
and agony
so return "home"
tiptoe in the dark
because this is not your place
sharing is caring
spend the next three hours
tossing and turning
because you get to wake up
and do it all over again!
if your life has gone flat
at least you know what to expect
if you can no longer be surprised
can you be pained?
i would say i'm sorry
but you chose this
so kick yourself
put on your mask
and shut up.
this is your fault.
this is your life,
get used to it.
Sep 2020 · 152
gutted
Grace Haak Sep 2020
to the core.
if this is evisceration
then i can empathize
with all those creatures
cropped and chopped
sliced and diced
salt from my eyes
sprinkled as seasoning
chewed on for your convenience
until i lost flavor
and you wadded me up
whittled me into waste
this is all i am now
a carcass of bones
pulverized into powder
drifting as dust
ah, to be solid and savored
full of taste and trust
but sadly now
just reduced to
just
Grace Haak Jul 2020
do you love me at all
or are you just lonely
am i just a convenient catch
a willing girl who happened to be nearby
do you miss me at all
when pink skies melt to black
when goodbyes end and garages close
do you ever wish i would run back
do i live in your mind at all
or do i sometimes just stop by
am i just an afterthought
nothing more than a simple sigh
when people ask you what we are
do you say i'm just a friend
or do you smile and slyly shrug
because you hope it won't ever end
so do you love me
and if i ask
what are we
will you tell me
something special?
Jul 2020 · 266
I should be asleep
Grace Haak Jul 2020
I’m not sure why I cry
when I should be asleep
It’s dark out and I try to be soothed by rain
But no peace comes to pacify the pain
I’m not sure if you’re the reason why
My heart hurts and my thoughts are too deep
But I overthink more than I should
Over and over
And I’m anxious over events that don’t take place
And I’m desperately longing to see your face
Even though I can’t take a breath or fade away
So many thoughts and yet nothing to say
And as I continue to cry, stuck miles away
With so many thoughts and yet nothing to say.
an old one
Jul 2020 · 463
Drunk When I'm Sober
Grace Haak Jul 2020
your touch causes sparks
to shoot through my fingers
and dance up my arms
that first sip kind of feeling
i get when i swig sparkling seltzer
your kiss makes my head spin
warmth crawls through my body
like the taste of tequila
but your lips are my chaser
sweet like cinnamon on orange
your words turn me inside out
i'm on fire and melting
into a puddle of passion
the way liquor makes me leap
into a pool of liquid courage

my words are fumbling
and i'm definitely stumbling
my heart is pounding
i can't find my grounding
but i'm not drunk
i've just sunk
i'm not wasted
your lips are all i've tasted
i'm not reeling
this is just how i'm feeling

i told you i loved you
in the middle of crowded chaos
fireworks from every direction
set off into a starry sky
and while there was glitter in my veins
from one too many white claws
i meant what i said
the timing was wrong, sure
a bit rushed, a ninety dollar uber
but i meant what i said

so here i am again
i love you
you give me sparkles, warmth, and courage
without even a sip of alcohol
you give me that
drunk when i'm sober
kind of feeling
i love you
just hold me and my head will spin
you make me want to dance on bar counters
and run into empty streets
laughing like a fool
and praying to never come down
you just get me drunk when i'm sober
and i love you
so hold me
and i'll never come down
Jun 2020 · 428
i. so do i love you: fling
Grace Haak Jun 2020
so do i love you
or do i just love the way you hold me
and tuck my hair behind my ears
or how you kiss me feverishly
and run your fingers through my hair
or when you stare into my eyes
and break into a crooked smile
or when your hand grabs mine
and leads me to your bedroom
or how you giggle when i brush your knee
and challenge me to an all-out tickle brawl
or when you walk me home
and keep your arm around me at all times
or how our goodbyes seem hours long
and end with a flirty "see you"

but when will i see you next
and why do we have to say goodbye
i will miss your arms around me
and i hate watching you walk away
when will our next battle be
because i don't giggle when you're gone
and is your room lonely without me
does your hand miss holding mine
you never failed to make me smile
or make my eyes sparkle with joy
your hair was so soft and fun to play with
i've never been kissed like that before
i would never tuck my hair behind my ears
do you feel empty when i'm not there to hold
so do you love me

or does this just stay on our street
and will it fade when summer ends
do i let you see my tears
and do i tell you that i love you
or do i smile, shake your hand
thank you for a fun quaran-fling
and leave it there?
because i think i love you
but that's too dangerous
nothing's been defined
and we are in too deep
"no strings attached"
but to you i always will be
and when our thread breaks
so will my heart
all i ask
is that
you don't forget me.

please don't forget me.
Apr 2020 · 154
one door down
Grace Haak Apr 2020
twenty steps if i walk
fifteen steps if i skip
ten steps if my dog drags me
i hope i don't trip
thirty minutes if it's nice
twenty minutes if it's hot
every minute wondering
if i should grab your hand, just a thought
sixty minutes watching
fifty minutes talking
endless minutes kissing
oops, it's late, i should get to walking
but first bring me to your driveway
i'm at a loss
so i'll just twirl around
and ask you to think of me
on my long journey home
you'll laugh
it's our classic goodbye
you make me blush
i make you sparkle
hair disheveled  
but never feeling prettier
goodbye
i'll let you know if i make it
twenty steps
i might burst
fifteen steps
i might melt
ten steps
i might fall
five steps
i fell
i'll walk twenty steps
or twenty-thousand
bursting with bubbly
makeup melting off
falling fast and free
how do you do it
how do you get me to smile
so confidently
i'll leave it here
remember me by it
until the next rendezvous
how good is it to be so young!
flings may fizzle
but i'll never forget
the way you made me feel
the way you made
twenty simple steps
so exciting
if you ever need me
you know where to find me
after all
it's just twenty steps.
Apr 2020 · 141
have your cake & eat it too
Grace Haak Apr 2020
you CAN have your cake
and eat it, too
yes, yes
i know the proverb
says you cannot
but i can override words
and you CAN eat it
and savor it with a smile
in front of everyone
frothy frosting and all
sprinkled sugar mixed
into your confetti cake
delicious
no thank you
one slice was quite enough
i'll be right back
door shuts
and you are back
in an all-too familiar place
cold tile
party smile melted off
your pastry sitting in a pile
as if it knew
it wouldn't be there long
everything so white and clean
but not for long
kneeling, crying
it doesn't take long
for your treat to reappear
a rainbow mess
but hey,
now you still have your cake!
might not taste as sweet
might burn your throat
and break your heart
but i told you
you CAN have your cake
and eat it, too
so get up
wash your hands
stare into the mirror
at someone you don't recognize
her red face
red, tear-stained face
stares in disbelief
but we all know
you'll be back
so wipe it off
grab a mint
plaster that smile back on
you look pretty!
i'll see you at the next party
Mar 2020 · 264
quarantine woes
Grace Haak Mar 2020
my mind is muddled mush
scrambled to eggs
from filling up on
mind-numbing affairs
snoozing sedentary sores
and piling up on couch potatoes
eating up seconds
in a Netflix solo party haze
brain over-binging
and melting in the
lack
a
daisical
days
heart restless from resting
and raging from being robbed
walking the dog
to get some "fresh air"
but the road is the same
empty and sad
and if anything
the up down, up down
stop sit go, stop sit go
insensates my thoughts more
until it becomes a
swirling mash of sorrow
and bittersweet bric-a-brac
every article, every email
strikes a match that flickers out
but if it catches a wick,
it erupts, although quick
and anger devours my body
and my brain s c r e a m s
and screeches for escape
each lobe pounding
and punching
my nerves on fire
that dies as fast as it started
and then i'm back
waking to reading to running to dying
oily and oleaginous
all my ponders
pounded back into pulp
my horrible macerated mind
Feb 2020 · 179
circulation
Grace Haak Feb 2020
lub dub lub dub
fist clenched in my chest
nerves and nodes grasping the strings
my pacemaker running rampant

lub dub lub dub
each chamber beats and pounds
pressure rising ever higher
millimeters of mercury mounting

lub dub lub dub
my vena cava caving in
my pulmonaries passing out
tight and taut now limp and languid

lub dub lub dub
my atriums crumpling
my ventricles moldering
its contents come spilling

liquid straw spouting
a serum suspending
red discs running
gasping for something
then slowing and clotting

my leukocytes leaking
my platelets melting
blue blood is boiling
crying for something
then breaking and rotting

my strings are snipped
cutting off the circulation
a cardiac collapse
i wanted love to make my heart beat
not bring my arteries pain
i wanted you to make my system complete
but alas it was all in vein
Jan 2020 · 221
falling like confetti
Grace Haak Jan 2020
it will all fall down
but maybe if we're lucky
it'll rain confetti
Jan 2020 · 372
beguile
Grace Haak Jan 2020
I can no longer convince you to be captivated
by late nights filled with nothing
I can not ****** you with my smooth talk
filled with songs of strange sweet something
I can no longer wheedle you with words
that entice you to want to stay
I can not tantalize you with temptation
so I must find somewhere else to play.
Jan 2020 · 445
glitter for the soul
Grace Haak Jan 2020
you confuse me.
but that's probably
because my mind
is clouded with
uncertainty
and sprinkled with
champagne stars.
i've been walking
in a fog of feelings
and pushing them
further and further away
with every glass i pour.
it's not fair
to ask someone steady
to walk with someone
so unbalanced
so not ready.
but you like that my
soul is filled with glitter
and i tell myself
that's gotta count for something.
Dec 2019 · 664
good riddance
Grace Haak Dec 2019
blood BOILING
nostrils flared
can't believe I ever cared
fists clenched
drenched in rage
now on a completely new page
I erupt
but those around
remind me that I am
just a sparkler
not a fire
and so my anger must retire
good riddance
I'll be dancing
dressed in silver
matching the stars
Dec 2019 · 131
I See It Clear As Day
Grace Haak Dec 2019
I see it clear as day
Although vision blurred
I feel it, red-hot and stinging.
I see the sky crying, too
The perfect gray
I hear it, bells sweetly ringing.
It all seems so business
So pleasantly polite
So black-hides-the-blue
So completely unlike you.
But there is nothing pleasant
About the gaping hole that widens
And threatens to tear me in two.
How am I supposed to walk these halls
And not think of you?
I will see you everywhere.
I hope you know that.
I will see you in the rain  
I will see you in the red and white
I will see you in the green and gold
Doesn’t matter if time dulls the pain
Doesn’t matter if day arrives from night
Doesn’t matter if I’m suddenly old
I feel as though I’ve lived a lifetime
Or twenty.
Life is full of hard rocks
But this
This pelts me with enough
To break down a building.
And I’m broken
Melted into the fresh dirt dug up
I smell it, to the earth I’m clinging.
You are gone
I see that clear as day
But you cannot leave
I cannot bury the memories
I hope you know
I’m not even going to try.
Because they can take you away
But to me, you’ll never die.
Dec 2019 · 559
the night is syrup
Grace Haak Dec 2019
the night is syrup
stuck in unmoving maple
measured molasses
Dec 2019 · 203
calm down
Grace Haak Dec 2019
your blood is boiling
your heart is pounding
but
screaming at the cars
won't make that red light turn green
Dec 2019 · 222
I Turn You Into Poetry
Grace Haak Dec 2019
Wouldn't it be nice
if we could see each other
the way we did
when we first met?
How our stomachs churned
in anxious excitement
the kind of feeling
not easy to forget
How we smiled nervously
unsure of what's next
hearts pitter-pattering
but trying not to fret
How I grabbed your hand
walking down the street
diving into the golden light
of a perfect desert sunset
How I kissed you quickly
inexperienced and scared
and you held me close
not wanting to go home yet.
But that is where it ends
each ensuing day riddled
with something sour
and filled with regret
How I cried each night
after you left me
filled with nothing and numb
always feeling upset
How you belittled my thoughts
after I tried to stay calm
you'd laugh at my attempts
to run with an empty threat
How I poured everything
I had into what we were
but you let me give you my heart
and left me in debt.
It's okay, though.
We don't have to focus
on the fizzling out
of something so lovely.
Instead I will trap
the boy I once knew
in my stanzas
He may not exist anymore
but he can be preserved
so I turn you into poetry
just to remember
the first day and the first night
where everything was beautiful
and everything was right.
an old one
Dec 2019 · 462
Goodbye, good riddance
Grace Haak Dec 2019
I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you
You make my blood boil
You make my fists clench
My eyes squint
into a scowl
when I see your smug smile
lips curled
teeth bared
slandering my name
Go on ahead!
I know I am not to blame
for all the late nights of confusion
and all the moments of obsessive intrusion
You twist the story
say I'm no better
Leaving on my doorstep
a grammatically incorrect letter
Ah, nothing makes my skin crawl
more than the improper use of "you're"
"your a liar"
"you never take responsibility for you're actions"
God, I don't know where I ever found attraction!
You can condemn me all day to hell
but at least I know how to ******* spell!
You say that I make you absolutely sick
doesn't mean much coming from a
wannabe preppy pretense of a *****
Delete my number from your phone
Get a life and leave me alone
Stop penciling paragraphs
full of mean and spite
saying you don't know how I sleep at night
Well, the joke's on you
I don't actually sleep
And I don't miss your stupid Jeep
I literally have my own.
Again, put down your phone
and pick up a book
because being a *******
isn't exactly a fallback career
You got that? Have I made it clear?
You can go assassinate my character
to your nonexistent group
I'll just be ranting to my poet friends
on an online website everyone can see....
oops
my anger has subdued this was just a fun one i found

also: excuse my profanities
Dec 2019 · 297
e m o t i o n s
Grace Haak Dec 2019
i am sad
no longer an irregularity
i feel bad
and i'm lacking in emotional granularity
i am mad
riddled with polarity
i am glad
just trying to find some clarity
Dec 2019 · 306
the misery of baking
Grace Haak Dec 2019
melted in misery
battered in blue
pitted in pain
since the day i met you
folded in falsities
sifted in sad
cut in confusion
didn't know it was bad
whisked up in woe
diced in despair
garnished in grief
but it's not like i care
Dec 2019 · 575
concrete ☆ tree
Grace Haak Dec 2019

silver
tinsel wrap
ped around the
christmas tree in the
living room and glass bau
bles hanging from the branch
es with white lights woven in be
tween such a soothing sight to see as
i start my early morning with some pepp
ermint coffee and i just love these december
days
with
the
tree
i just wanted to try a concrete poem
Dec 2019 · 220
My Eyes Are Tired
Grace Haak Dec 2019
My eyes have bled tears
My eyes have squinted with hate
My eyes have been glued shut from fears
Not wanting to see my upcoming fate
And with that
my eyes are tired.
They now rest in their sockets
Covered in unfeeling glaze
They are now impenetrable lockets
Stuck in a fathomless haze
The eyes are the windows to the soul
Unless no light can get through
It's what happens when life takes a toll
And you've no clue what to do
So you let them sit there
Unmoving, unblinking
Don't let them show anyone
Anything that you're thinking
It's over I'm done my eyes are tired.
Dec 2019 · 403
I! Am! Indecisive!
Grace Haak Dec 2019
Someone please
just tell me the answer
because what I thought was a crossroads
has branched into a dozen paths
and you know I don't stand a chance
against a decision-making dilemma
so I am handing over the strings
please just play me like a puppet
put the confidence in my choice
put the words into my voice
move my feet in some direction
I promise I'll have no objection
because I cannot think! I cannot act!
my mind is chock-full
and completely jam-packed
and I am indecisive to the extreme
so much so I'm about to scream
yes I know it's bad that I have no thought
but all my attempts are tangled in a knot
I am tired of the pros and cons list
I am getting lost on this track of twists
so take my choices, I do not care
it's not like I'm getting anywhere!
It's really bad!
Next page