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Nicole Nov 2017
just the other day my mother asked me why i don’t write Happy Things.
i couldn’t produced the words from my tongue to explain that happiness is a firefly hovering just out of reach,
how it sometimes dips
just low enough for my fingertips
to brush its wings
before it soars above my head once again.
i couldn’t figure out how to make her understand that most of my time is spent with my head surrounded by darkness, so that the “happy” moments only appear to be a grey light.
my brain functions at a baseline of a light drizzle and a slight chill spent alone,
where happy can't live because of the possibility of catching the sad.
she wouldn’t believe me when i said that i can’t write Happy Things because i need to drain them of their nectar while their light is still in front of me.
i cannot afford to write Happy Things because then i would never have the chance to experience them as close to fullness as I can.

happy doesn’t linger the way depression can.
Nicole Nov 2017
the crunch of leaves beneath my feet
and the smell as they burn
return me to the land that was my home.
eyes closed so i can see the past
as it tries to escape from my fingertips.
and i can no longer tell what is real from what is remembered.
i see my brother running in front of me,
turning back so that his vibrant gold eyes catch the light just so
and i am there with him.
my youth is the only thing that is real to me in that moment,
the laughter,
the crisp cool air
biting at my cheeks and leaving them rouged,
a smile staking its claim on my lips for the moment.
it all kept me sane.
and as the image fades, i am brought back down to earth.
the somber tones of grey surround me as my brother’s gold fades away
and i am left with no more happiness.
the blood leaves my cheeks as my lips shrivel up into a hard pressed line.
the air has gone warm and heavy
as my lungs begin to strain to get the oxygen without drowning.
childhood fun has turned to the dark days of adulthood and i do not know how to live this life anymore.
when innocence and ignorance are gone you are left with reality,
and I’m not quite sure how to live with that.
Nicole Dec 2017
Shove me down your throat
swallow me whole
so that I may escape
this carousel traveling at lightning speed.
Nicole Aug 2017
words are caught in my chest.

trying to crawl their way out through my head.

but my mind refuses to let them break its walls down.

the strength behind the pain

that made me this way is enough to stand back

and watch my heart be buried alive.

underneath all the things left unsaid

it tries to beat its way through but the words cut deep

and the blood runs thick from its veins.
  Aug 2017 Nicole
I can't breathe
I can't breathe
My mind is wandering
I'm assuming you have lied to me
Just like all the others
Why do I bother
Why do I bother

I can't breathe
all this anxiety
My mind is spinnin'
I realize I've been fooled again
right when I've surrendered
and courageously let you in

I can't breathe
You're ignoring me
why do I trust
so easily
I'm so angry with myself
panic is creeping in
when will I learn
I am merely here to be used
when love is what I yearn

I can't breathe
How dare you do this to me
For all the scars I have shown you
My throat is closing in
Tonight I will not sleep
I am never going to win

But I've begged you
to not do this to me
I lay in tears wondering
why I'm so worthless
and I can't breathe.
I have panic attacks when I know i've been used again. Man after man, I tell myself to never trust again.
Nicole Aug 2017
sat in my porcelain encased coffin,
my body floating among the bits of filth from those who have occupied this space before me.
mind blank as a freshly stretched canvas,
and thoughts come through the white noise like a splash of warm blood against the clean tile on the floor where my coffin lays.
the shock jolting my body out of its stupor only for a moment,
then returning to its dead weight.
each moment of time that passes without a disruption sends my limbs closer to rigor mortis.
and I’m drowning even though my lungs have a clear path for oxygen to travel.
my body rejecting any form of sustenance as I lay in the cooling water,
it just wants to make the process go quicker,
ready to surrender to my mind and its devious ways.
i let it happen.
i’m so tired of this,
this constant feeling of fear but not being able to bring myself to leave the filth i sit in.
and i’m scared of dying
but i’m scared of living in this place more.
Nicole Aug 2017
she writes the things that come to her mind in the middle of the night in bursts of blobs of *******.
the words come spilling from her mouth and it reeks,
like a trash can left unattended for weeks.
she wakes the morning after and reads it back in hopes for a glimpse into her psyche,
but nada.
her brain is a chaotic something that even she cannot make sense of.
her pretty words do nothing to disguise the true mess that lies beneath the surface.
new flowers on an old grave,
the facade
doesn’t mask the decaying body underneath.
the beautiful colors of fall,
failing to disguise the scent of the rotting leaves on the road side.
pretty words from a pretty mouth
with no purpose or meaning.
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