Seasons come and go,
years float by
and the earth keeps on turning.
But for me to grapple with the fact
that I am no longer sixteen
and hopelessly, desperately in love
or how I am no longer 14 and
believing myself to be immortal,
is much, much harder then I ever thought
it would be.

i noticed that my poems are often
how should i say it?
accusatory
but what can i say
i'm the hero in my own story

not so intense my heart hurts
in fact my heart doesn't react at all
home isn't with you but i enjoy your company
if a bullet flew i wouldn't jump
nor lay down my coat on a strangely deep puddle
but you let me rest my head on your shoulders
that's enough

everyday is a test to convince myself to not hate for eating
and its one step forwards two steps back
i try to feel empowered or fierce or something other than awful
yet you always loom with the sly comments
its my fault for being too fragile
but its a **** hard truth when the women at my job
taught me more about self love
then the woman who bore me

although i often claim to miss you
let me make this clear
i would rather bring a sterling blade to my throat
or pop my eyes out with a spoon
and die all alone with no family or friends
than ever belong to you again

it starts with setting plates down
just enough force to make a sound
then it goes to talking
with less filter then usual
the worst is the silence
my mind can do more damage then you ever could
and you let it reign free
your gaze blank
yet somehow piercing
dread building

or unnecessary pasta in my opinion
but who am i to argue with you
in my mind i know we have gallons back home
and will probably have more coming
still, you wanted to go to the shop.

we walked past the isle several times now
i don't have the energy to mention it
you'll only snap
you grab a bag more and throw it in the trolley
oblivious to the three bags already there
penne galore

it happens maybe once, maybe twice a month
when we actually eat the pasta
so i try not to let it build up
but you always insist we need more

picture the word in your head;
a sweet lullaby passed down the years
or a word shared between families at a meal
flowers and the fae and all things beautiful enveloping
a warm summer night at the beach
surrounded by those you love and bursts of color

now imagine the person attached to it.
dents under her eyes with a lack of moral sanity
low ambition and a dizzying sensation
uselessly attached to a person
who will leave at a moments notice
the fae stopped answering her calls when she fell in love
and her love stopped answering when it inconvenienced
a once dewy skin now stains at the fingertips
and hair that floats in a lake
with an addiction that she chose

im doing it again
but i want you back
doesn't that count for something?
this isn't personal gain
but i don't want to hurt you
I'm a time bomb as it is

in the morning i will walk away
pack away the wire and felt
chuckle awkwardly about silly things
pretend to have forgotten

but right now i am in your arms
my head is swirling
a kaleidoscope is forming around me
you keep me steady and focus my vision
i am overwhelmed and intoxicated
by you alone

and in the morning I'll forget

autumn smiles at me through his dusted glasses
and he offers me a warm yet calloused hand.
we dance together, slow and close.
he's old now, worn away by time
the crows feet and laugh lines reveal this
yet he still holds me gently.
he's not harsh or rough like summer
who forces me to tango
nor cold or distant like spring
who doesn't dance at all.
i trust him to keep me safe
i'm bruised and aged from summer
he knows this, i believe
he only stays a short while
but i know i'll see him again

i love and i miss it
the feeling so intense that i feel it in all areas
whether it be anger, sadness or lust
starting from the bottom working its way up
clouding my vision and making my head spin
it's been an awfully long time since this organic experience

that's a part of the grey cloud they neglect to tell you
to a point where it remains hard to notice unless you look
you laugh, you cry and you listen
but it's all artificial
something you trained your body to excel in
after years of seeing it in media
i wonder, when was the last time i was truly sad?
or irrationally angry?
or so happy that it's hard to breathe?