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Nov 2018 · 751
if god was a woman
Kelly Weaver Nov 2018
sometimes i think about the way a heavy snowfall mutes all surrounding noise
what beauty is capable of.
though different, this beauty is also in the rain
and the way its droplets tap on our windows.
i wonder if people can communicate in a way so graceful,
perhaps loving stares and skin-on-skin suffice.

i wish people could be beautiful in the way sunsets are.
i wish there was a word for the way sun shimmers against ocean waves
or the feeling that overcomes your body when you know the sea is nearby,
though it hasn't come int view just yet.
i wish the moonlight that dances on my skin had a feeling,
in the same way that sunlight does.

if i could recreate this world, i'd do it differently
i'd give sound to the sizzling of asphalt on a hot summer day
the sun itself may have a soft hum as well.
the twinkling of stars would mimic chimes
the only thing i wouldn't have to change is your smile
that already brings me warmth.
Nov 2018 · 261
lower keys
Kelly Weaver Nov 2018
my story exists in the lower keys
the ones that strike your heartstrings and echo in your empty chest.
it lies in the shadows just outside of the glow that a streetlight provides
on a dark, cold night.
check the bruises on your arms, and the slashes on your legs
it'll be there, too.
it's in the nights spent sitting in the shower with the water running cold
the numbness, that's it.
it's feeling too weak to get out of bed in the morning
and having only the energy to stare at the wall.
the tiny cut on your finger you didn't know was there until you squeezed a lime
it's the stinging.
that's where I exist
in the pain
in the dark
in the lower keys.
Nov 2018 · 210
secondhand anguish
Kelly Weaver Nov 2018
my mom tended to boast of my upbringing in the sense that it was elementary
her definitive point being that I never cried.
legend says I was all beam and no whimper
and I had the most beautiful voice when I sang.
it tends to be a woe-some memory these days.
of late, instances where one could catch a genuine grin belonging to myself are slim to none.
my mom tends to jest on the subject, claiming I must be making up for lost time (and lost tears)
and maybe that's why she's avoided contacting a therapist.
she's yet to witness the worst of it.

crying on a schedule seems a bit insane until you take into account the secondhand anguish.
I'd rather cry alone than force someone else to hear my sobs
I'd rather mourn in isolation than bring similar energies out of others
it just tends to get desolate.
sometimes I slip up and my sorrow surfaces in an undesired way,
forcing others to witness my ugly truth.
these are the instances I dread
for shame and sorrow are lovers,
fingers intertwined, clasped around my throat as you watch me struggle to breathe.

I feel sad for my mom when she boasts of my demeanor as a child
I'm sure she misses seeing me smile instead of frown.
Oct 2018 · 267
sunshowers
Kelly Weaver Oct 2018
i can't recall at what age i no longer feared death.
perhaps it was the day i saw a dead raccoon in the street,
puking its insides outward, like it ate something regrettable.
or maybe it was the day a suicide attempt brought a body to our shore
and though i was told to look away, i could not.
regardless of what brought me to this state, here i remain,
dismantling razors to get to their blades.
my skin has always been dry, like canvas,
so it only makes sense to use it as such,
a storyboard of misery and anguish covered my thighs
because anything was better than feeling numb.
i sometimes fantasize about what it must feel like to die
is it similar to the feeling of a sunshower on your skin,
or perhaps the wind dancing through your hair?
i've been dying to find out.
i'm aware that death is a fad these days
whether overdose or accident, slates are wiped clean
past mistakes erased.
if the promise of a swift and painless demise could be universal,
i'm sure more would feel the same as i.
what's scary is the pain, the unimaginable pain
that accompanies swallowing a fistful of pills or a swig of bleach
it's agony.
i've found myself closer and closer to reaching this point,
this point where i've no reason to be, and god,
it's so hard to backtrack.
in the same way that it's difficult to breathe easy,
the nearly impossible is found when i try not to mourn
what i haven't yet lost.
Oct 2018 · 2.9k
red slushee vape juice
Kelly Weaver Oct 2018
the feeling of unwanted fingertips tends to wash over my skin in the same manner that the cold washed over yours
but heat transfers, or lack-there-of.
it was in this way that i became sick,
or maybe the smoke i've filled my lungs with had finally done me in.
i drank cough syrup either way.
i guess i was unaware at the time, but the smell of cherries was what did me in.
cherries, and i felt your hands once again
cherries, and my breathing nearly stopped all at once
cherries, and my hands began to tremble so violently that i dropped the bottle.
cherries, as i leaned over the toilet throwing up sticky sweet memories
cherries, as i drew further and further into myself and, subsequently, closer into your arms
cherries, as my eyes dried from the excessive tears and i could no longer manage any noise.
cherries, as your cold transferred into me and your hands clenched around my wrists
cherries, as the entire weight of your body was laid on top of mine
cherries, and i couldn't move, i couldn't scream, i couldn't see
cherries, as your voice echoed in my mind, preventing me any relief from this nightmare,
cherries.

no, not even the simplest of coughs could find relief under such strain.
because my cough syrup smelled like your red slushee vape juice,
i froze. and i couldn't pick myself up again
i couldn't front the storm, i couldn't slip you into my pocket
i couldn't put you on the back burner.
i couldn't erase you from my mind no matter how many times i tried i couldn't wipe you off of my skin no matter how hard i scrubbed
i couldn't close my eyes without hearing your voice telling me to stay still i cant stop smelling your ******* red slushee vape juice because the scent accompanies every panic attack and every breakdown.
and i sure as hell couldn't stop the blood from flowing once it had started.
the stress that made it hard to breathe had gotten to you, inside of me
and there was so much blood.
the doctor said it was normal for it to be about the same consistency as cherry cough syrup.

i can't drink it anymore.
you don't deserve to know what you did to me.
Oct 2018 · 1.5k
the american reality
Kelly Weaver Oct 2018
i cried over fireflies in front of you on our first date
and you asked for my permission to hold me
because you knew that i was far too familiar
with unwelcome hands
and i have never felt more grateful
for something so rudimentary.
my ****** is walking free as this is written
he woke today feeling safe.
he woke today with his monstrous hands uncuffed flashing fangs in his toxic grin
the same that tore my flesh to ribbons.
I woke today to another ****** assault report
from a girl's seemingly worst nightmare,
(the third in under a month)
as well as a *** offender/supreme court appointee
plastered on every platform,
and, subsequently,
a ****** predator in the highest seat in the country.
monsters like them wake to comfort
while i wake to feeling as though i can't breathe
with the weight equivalent to his five-foot-nine stature bearing down onto my chest.
you hugged me once and i started crying because i couldn't move my arms
and you held me in bed for the following hours as my whole body trembled.
i didn't mind thanking you when you asked if you could hold me
but i wish i wasn't accustomed to doing so.
Oct 2018 · 283
october fourth
Kelly Weaver Oct 2018
today was the day she was supposed to **** herself.

---

she woke to singing birds in the same bed where she googled how many sleeping pills she had to take for it to be lethal.
what can be done of a girl breathing so heavy she throws up her tears and screams so quietly she couldn't even hear herself suffering until it was too late?
she's a lost cause.
an afterthought, the newspaper you used to line your dog's crate.
she's the candy wrapper that missed the trash can and flew with the wind, only to get caught in the storm drain with the next torrential downpour.
she's been singing alone for weeks now.
today was the day she was supposed to **** herself.
today was the day she was supposed to swallow as many pills as she could fit down her throat
and subsequently lay in bed until they burnt holes through her body
she was supposed to bleed through her sheets, alone and suffering silently.
she was supposed to drown in her tears and scream until water filled her lungs
she was to go silently into the day with only her body to remain.
she was supposed to **** herself today.
this was her chance
and she ******* blew it.

---

she couldn't make it through the letters.
she had them all addressed, scratched in her messy handwriting
which was only worsened by her shaking hands.
she couldn't write them
she didn't make it past him
she could feel tears welling in her already so very tired eyes as she thought of how to tell her best friend and first true love that she couldn't hold on anymore
that she couldn't stand singing alone anymore.
she couldn't do it.
she couldn't make it through the letters.

---

i had to wait over an hour to be connected to someone from the suicide prevention hotline.
thinking back on it now, it's quite a flawed system.
someone might not have had so long to wait.
i know now that i never could have actually done it
i never could have said goodbye to the morning sun or the falling leaves
i would've missed the sea far too much.
i would've missed the feeling of knowing the ocean is nearby without actually having it in my line of sight
that's one of the best feelings in the world, i promise you.
i would've missed your hand in mine, and i would've missed our long drives.
i wouldn't trade those for the world.

---

today was the day i was supposed to **** myself.
but i didn't,
and i won't,
so long as the tides keep changing,
and the earth keeps spinning,
and the birds keep chirping.
Sep 2018 · 278
///////////////
Kelly Weaver Sep 2018
there's a song in my playlist that makes me feel like i can't breathe
it pulls at my skin like the tightening of a drum
except the drumsticks are razor blades and the song is a ******* requiem
the choir is sobbing but smiling all he while
and every guest has their fingers crossed.
it's an open-casket affair, but it's filled with ****** water
the guest of honor is hiding in plain sight, or so i've heard.
Sep 2018 · 198
I wish you were still here
Kelly Weaver Sep 2018
I wish you were still here.
I wish you still sang your heart out
And I wish you still smiled when you heard a song you liked
I miss when you'd dangle your feet off the edges of cliffs
Because you wanted to feel how it felt pre-free fall
I miss when you'd dance alone in your room
And dance in that same manner with an audience.
I miss your beautiful, kind soul
And I wish you still danced in the rain.
I wish I wasn't crying while I was writing this
And I wish you weren't in so much pain.
I wish you were still sweet like sugar
And I wish your eyes still shimmered like stars.
I wish your hands didn't shake like leaves
I wish your chest didn't feel so heavy
And I wish the same for your eyes
I wish you were still here to brighten the bad days
And I wish you weren't a victim of time.
A note to who I was before the depression
Sep 2018 · 161
raindrop memories
Kelly Weaver Sep 2018
the vivid pictures of raindrops tapping on windshields
have always been something to stay with me.
my raindrop memories of you were my most special
but as of late they've brought me nothing but sorrow.
the way your windows cried as we sat in our own euphoria,
shielded from the evils which plagued us
reminds me now of the way i had thunderstorms in my eyes
when you left.
i have an entire playlist of songs that i can't bring myself to listen to anymore
because every note reminds me of my fingers locked with yours
and every strum tugs at my heartstrings so hard they ache
there's no amount of pills in the world that could help me forget what your touch felt like
there's nothing on this earth that could soothe the ache in my stomach that arises when I hear your name
i thought of putting my pretty neck through a ******* noose once or twice since then
because i feel like i'm drowning and nobody knows how to swim
i can never be sure of how it feels to be shrouded in genuine happiness
because all this time i thought you were the source of mine
but how could something so perfect be so corrupt?
how could you take your once gentle hands and wrap them around my neck?
squeezing the life from my lungs while hot tears dance on my cheeks just like the raindrops on your windshield.
i know this wasn't too hard for you, but it's still killing me.
Sep 2018 · 141
all but forgotten
Kelly Weaver Sep 2018
There seemed to be stars above your bed but they were just ******* string lights
Five dollars from your pocket so I’d happily close my eyes and spread my legs
Because you knew I was afraid of the dark and took it to heart
One-hundred twinkling lights shining upon my freckled skin made you seem less of a monster.

While my head was spinning in the ambulance I thought of you
An IV was in my arm pumping my veins with the familiar feeling of your weight pressed against me
A ***** of my finger and I was gushing your name
Which comes regularly when I’m so very afraid.

I met someone today that shared your name
At its sound my head began swimming
My lungs filled with seawater as the lighthouse blinded me
It was not the white light I had been hoping for.

I wish I could get this song out of my head but it's drilled in
My headaches are getting worse and worse every day and I don't know how to make them stop
I wish sleep could at least lessen the pain you've caused me
But I'm not so fortunate.
Aug 2018 · 183
home
Kelly Weaver Aug 2018
i hate that home smells like cigarettes
and i hate that family comes with screaming and crying
and i hate that we were taught that hate was too strong because if so then maybe my family shouldn't use it to describe how they feel about me
but that's what's normal to me now, i know it's sad
but i would give anything to fade away and not share their name.
i hate that i am always in the way even when i'm really not
i hate that i am responsible for their mistakes because that's what i was
at least, that's what they tell me.
my solace from this hell on our planet earth has eyes like the sea and a charming energy
neither of us can stand the ones we must call our "family".
even if blood is thicker than water mine still manages to boil
but thank god for my love who turns up my heat yet still decreases my temperature
a beautiful distraction from what resides at home
or should i say at my house? because home is where you're loved
and i was once told that i was made to be loved so if this is true
home is not home.
if home is where i'm loved then home is with my friends
home is where i can sing my heart out and receive smiles instead of frowns
home is where i can laugh and cry without fear of judging eyes
home is where i'm kissed on my cheek and i'm kissed on my hand
not where i'm yelled at and subsequently kissed WITH a hand
those kisses leave knots in my stomach and tears in my eyes
that's not home.
i want nothing more than to just go home
i just wish home could be a place
and not a person
though this is better than any home i have ever had
Aug 2018 · 2.1k
the time that you hold
Kelly Weaver Aug 2018
I didn't think anything of the ringing in my ears until you told me that silence shouldn't be so loud
You had that same problem.
Too many concerts that were far too loud
Too many nights driving with the windows down
Blasting our favorite songs and screaming our hearts out
I wouldn't take a single second back given the chance
And I'd hope for the same of you.
I think of you whenever it rains because you loved it so much
As did I.
I think of sitting in your car while the raindrops on the window shone onto my thigh
That's when I learned to find beauty in the smallest of things
Like the way your laugh was rough and sweet
And how your eyes glimmered when they met mine.
The other day there was a firefly outside of my bedroom window
I had been crying over the empty feeling that tends to settle in my chest when I am alone
And when I saw its tiny flickering on my windowsill
I managed a smile.
Because I thought of the day we met
And how the cranberry bog hosted as many as I had ever seen in one place
You walked behind as I chased them in my bright yellow shoes
And you held me as I sobbed over their tiny significance.
When I can feel past unwelcome hands on my skin and in my bones
I think of the night you saw me scared shitless, sobbing next to you in bed
I covered my mouth to muffle the sound of my fear as hot tears fell onto my cheeks.
You held my shaking palm in your own
And then held me in your arms, which I have grown accustomed to call my home.
If I had one wish, it would be to posses the ability to evoke the feeling of your arms around me at will.
When you'd ask if I have ever been in love I'd find myself lost
Because in all of the past relationships I've taken part in
I have never felt nearly as happy and alive as I did when you were by my side.
So I guess, though current,
The answer to your question
Is yes.
i've slept a lot lately because my dreams are the only time i get to see you anymore
Aug 2018 · 169
termites
Kelly Weaver Aug 2018
My birth
Was a natural disaster
With each breath I took in this new world,
A hurricane ravaged cities and left people homeless
Each beat of my heart sent earthquakes that destroyed buildings
And made houses collapse.
I'm sorry if it seems I'm complaining of minor inconveniences
I am not strong in ways where I'm able to handle each swing life takes at me
I will fall to my knees at the faintest gust of wind because with each breath I take
And each day that goes by I grow closer and closer to giving up
Please put me out of my ******* misery so I never have to be pitied again
I can't breathe anymore because someone's sitting on my chest
And their knees are digging into my sternum as I gasp for air
I can't leave my house anymore because once I do
The Earth begins to crack below my feet
I know it must sound as if the world have given me the short straw and
Sometimes I believe it not only feels as such
But is as such.
It is not the I feel just in my contempt
It is simply that it devours my soul until all that is left is deep dread
That sunk its roots into my skin
And polluted my veins.
I can feel nothing but the digging.
Like I am riddled with termites that scream unto me
"You are a waste."
It is merely unfortunate that
I have come to believe them.
Aug 2018 · 174
i'm sorry for yelling
Kelly Weaver Aug 2018
YOU WERE THE ONE THAT SLICED MY VEINS
YOU WERE THE ONE THAT SOILED MY NAME
I'VE LOST SO MANY PEOPLE THAT I ONCE LOVED BECAUSE YOU'VE SPREAD LIES TO TEAR ME DOWN
I SLIPPED FROM OUT OF YOUR GRIP AND AS PUNISHMENT YOU CAME TO MY HOME AND SLEPT IN MY BED
YOU TOOK ME TO SLAUGHTER BECAUSE YOU DIDN'T GET YOUR WAY
YOUR RAN MY HEAD THROUGH THE MUD AND LEFT ME TO SUFFOCATE
******* FOR RIPPING EVERYTHING I LOVED FROM MY FINGERTIPS
I KNOW IT'S NOT FAIR AND I'VE KNOWN THAT FOR SO LONG BUT THAT DOESN'T MEAN IT GETS ANY EASIER TO DEAL WITH
JESUS CHRIST, YOU TOOK EVERY YEAR WE SPENT TOGETHER AND PAWNED THEM FOR POCKET CHANGE
EVEN THOUGH I ASK FOR SO LITTLE I GET ABSOLUTELY NOTHING FROM YOU
NOT THAT I'D EXPECT ANYTHING ELSE.
SO GO AHEAD AND DEMONIZE ME, IT'S WHAT YOU DO BEST.
JUST KNOW THAT ONE DAY SOMEONE WILL SEE THROUGH YOUR SMOKE AND MIRRORS
AND REALIZE YOU WERE THE TRUE VILLAIN
ALL ALONG.
Aug 2018 · 208
mid-october hurricane
Kelly Weaver Aug 2018
I count the stars each night before I lay to rest
I try to connect the dots between the freckles on my skin
I run my fingers over my scars like they’re ink on paper
Unable to be erased, and scribbling them out would only make them appear more obvious
I wish I could forget myself even for a little while
I wish to pluck my heartstrings and release the song I’ve been keeping inside of myself for far too long
The intense pressure that would be lifted from my being would be enough to allow me to fly
If only.
I wish to float in an ocean of dreams without sinking to the bottom
Or becoming seasick.
I wish the sun wouldn’t blister my skin
In the same way that your love does.
I wish the ringing in my ears would cease even just for a second so I could peacefully listen to the song I’ve had drilled into my skull for days now
I just want to get it out.
As fall arrived I remember feeling such a dread deep in my bones as I realized it would not be an easy one
Like a blanket falling over me I was covered in goosebumps with alcohol surging through my veins as my bloodshot eyes opened their gates and the tears started to flow
I just wanted to lay in the grass with crumpled leaves in my hair and count the stars as I took my last breath
I feel like I wasn’t asking for much.
I just wanted the air flowing through my lungs to cease like the aftermath of a mid-october hurricane
And I wanted to feel my heart slow to the point where it emulated the drums of that song I couldn’t get out of my ******* head no matter how much I tried to muffle the sound
But I wasn’t so fortunate.
Jul 2018 · 214
ms. catastrophe
Kelly Weaver Jul 2018
These days I’m finding it harder and harder to believe that everything nasty in the world isn’t all of my own doing
   And it’s been more and more difficult allowing myself to breathe easy because it seems the world is collapsing around me and I’ve caused the crumbling of every last brick
   Though my screams are lessened because I’ve been drowning for days the water doesn’t cancel the sound
   And it’s so deafening that it makes babies cry and tides turn and hurricanes begin to form in my eyes as an earthquake destroys a settlement with each step I take
   I’m afraid of waking up in this cruel world and setting off volcanic eruptions instead of fireworks
   My throat is filled with thorns and they tear my flesh with every breath I take and I’m tired of the blood pooling in my stomach to the point where I can’t think of roses without feeling nauseous
   I’ve tied my stomach into knots that I don’t know how to undo and my hands are shaking too much to even begin to try in the first place
   So I don’t.
Jul 2018 · 158
of relative worth
Kelly Weaver Jul 2018
One becomes acquainted to a certain way of life if lived in long enough
The most tragic of these circumstances being a found comfortableness in misery
When tears become routine and shaky hands are a custom
This is where home resides.
Light and love turn into foreign enemies against our comfort as we push away the people and things that mean to help
Ending in our personal isolated hell.
We find ourselves having rather cried ourselves to sleep than feel an ounce of joy rip through our walls
Happiness is so stiff and awkward it becomes an unwanted dinner guest and we are forced to realize that if we choose to get better we must feel quite a bit worse
And this is far more difficult than finding content in our cold misery.
The sum of the former is surely greater in value
Though it comes at the cost of our comfort.
We must trade goosebumps for smiles and tell ourselves it’s worth it
Even though it very well may not be.
Jul 2018 · 139
pain is love is pain
Kelly Weaver Jul 2018
i was awake at three in the morning with stomach pains that could bring someone to their knees, all because i was thinking of you and your all but kind words

i can’t do this anymore
i don’t want you in my life

your words were sharp like knives and I was bleeding out through my eyes, clutching my stomach as both my cheeks and my pillow case were wet with your daggers

yousaidyoulovedmeyousaidyoulovedmeyousaidyoulovedmeyousaidyoulo­vedmeyousaidyoulovedmeyousaidyoulovedmeyousaidyoulovedmeyousaidyo­ulovedmeyousaidyoulovedmeyousaidyoulovedmeyousaidyoulovedmeyousai­dyoulovedmeyousaidyoulovedmeyousaidyoulovedmeyousaidyoulovedmeyou­saidyoulovedmeyousaidyoulovedmeyousaidyoulovedmeyousaidyoulovedme­yousaidyoulovedmeyousaidyoulovedmeyousaidyoulovedmeyousaidyoulove­dmeyousaidyoulovedmeyousaidyoulovedmeyousaidyoulovedmeyousaidyoul­ovedmeyousaidyoulovedmeyousaidyoulovedmeyousaidyoulovedme

i felt my internal screams escaping my lungs with each sob and eventually i was unable to breathe as i wept for our secrets shared and dreams made

falling from a cliff would be less painful than this.
Kelly Weaver Jun 2018
I know you told me to call you when I felt I wanted to die
But god, I can't let you see me cry anymore.
Because I know you can't hold my hand
And I know you can't kiss my cheek or wipe my tears
And that kills me.
My hands may be shaking
And my heart may be aching
But I just don't want to be a problem anymore.
I know you said you still loved me
But I know it's not in the way it once was
And that too, kills me.
But I'm trying
God, I'm trying
To not dream of growing old with you
To not wish to be yours
It's the hardest thing I've ever had to do.
God, I feel annoying just writing this
I'm sorry to keep bothering you this way
I'll go.
a message to my best friend because that sounds better than my ex
Kelly Weaver Apr 2018
—————

someone’s hands were on me.

I could feel one rip through my chest
It grabbed hold of my heart and started twisting
I felt a scream escape from my lungs
But didn’t hear a ******* sound.

I can still hear him growling.

My hands have been shaking for days now
My bones so jittery I’m surprised they’re not clacking together
Shattering to pieces and piercing my skin
That would be nothing compared to this pain.

he was stronger than he looked.

It surprised me regardless when he weighed me down
Drugs on his breath and then on my skin
Leaving purple marks that screamed anything but consent
To remind me of what happened.

he didn’t ask.

He didn’t speak kindly to me in the way that one should
He was forceful and rough and tore through my flesh
Blistered my skin and rusted my bones
And I can’t get rid of him anymore.

so here he remains.
Mar 2018 · 5.7k
collapse
Kelly Weaver Mar 2018
Our home has an uneven foundation
The walls are crumbling and the support beams are rotting
And tonight, the roof finally caved in.
As my lungs filled with sawdust I covered my ears
I covered my eyes and hid from my fears
I didn’t wanna hear the screams or the tears,
I couldn’t bare to hear promises of suicide
And claims of pure hatred with a dash of cyanide
I couldn’t bare to see my home topple over
And I couldn’t bring myself to look at their hands bunched up into fists
They screamed until they couldn’t make a sound and I couldn’t deal
I couldn’t witness such a catastrophe without being scarred so I ran and I hid
I hid from their words and I hid from their lies
I hid until the worst of it was over
And then all was quiet.


When I opened my eyes, the walls were intact
The beams were solid, the floor was leveled
And everyone was smiling.
Their teeth were black with ash and soot
But they smiled wide, grinning ear to ear
And their voices were calm, the yelling had ceased
I uncovered my ears.
And though their mouths told one story
Their eyes told another
They were red and puffy, and I could see the pain that the damage caused
But they smiled on anyway
As did I.
the draft, however, remained.
Mar 2018 · 310
put me out of my misery
Kelly Weaver Mar 2018
The sky has turned a dark shade of gray
Not even the brightest rays can break through
And my Earth is freezing
As a consequence of my thoughts and feelings.
My hands shake like the leaves on a tree
During a hurricane in mid-september
With winds so strong and so fast
That even my loudest screams are muted.
My hottest tears fall like rain
As thunder booms in my head
And with each crack of lightning I fall deeper into myself
Until I'm convinced the skies will never be clear again.
The flames in my lungs only grow larger
As I cough smoke and throw up lava
My teeth turn black as ash
And I run a lovely fever.
I can see your lips moving
But can only hear static
And when you try to touch any part of me
You feel nothing but empty space.
I've stitched my mouth closed
With copper wire
And though the pain is almost unbearable
I cannot help but smile.
I'll drop to my knees and fall to the ground
Just waiting for a kind soul
To bury me alive and end this frigid weather
With which I've plagued the Earth.
I only wish to free you of myself, the world is better when I'm not here
Kelly Weaver Feb 2018
Your seething tides churn in my mind
As my shaky hands subside
And though love can be caustic,
You are sweet-tempered.
Your voice could calm even the roughest storms.
I wish I had enough time in the day to tell you of how many times you've kept my heart beating
Or of all of the times you've interrupted the steady streams of woe escaping my bloodshot eyes
All without even trying.
I wish I could thank you for holding my hand while I puked up roses, and drying my eyes when I choked on the thorns.
for my darling boyfriend, who I love so very much
Jan 2018 · 427
a yearning heart
Kelly Weaver Jan 2018
Silky sheets as soft as kisses, cool to the touch like a winter pine
I am so in love.
Goosebumps of a different kind form on my skin and in my mind as I feel your flesh on mine
Static.
Like cool mountain air that fills my lungs you envelope every fiber of me
Like a bubbly foam I’m wrapped in your love as it sprinkles upon my skin
I could never ask for anything more.
And while you are gone I am the utmost content as awaiting your return makes it all the more sweeter
Love had grabbed me by my throat
and I hope it never lets go
I hope it leaves marks on my neck and chills up my spine

I want it to own me as I’ve always wished to own myself.
Jan 2018 · 232
Love sure is Lovely
Kelly Weaver Jan 2018
Who knew love had such soft hands,
And the gentlest of eyes that could soothe any ache and calm any storm
Who knew love was so warm,
That even the sun would envy in its rays
And who knew it’s smile could brighten even the darkest of days?
I had no idea.
But god, do I know now.
Sometimes I forget I’m actually grounded
Because love is making me feel lighter than air
Love is taking its warm arms and wrapping me in its embrace
And I never want love to let me go
And I hope it never does
I hope love kisses my forehead every night before bed and kissing my hand every morning when I wake
Love makes me blush so deeply and lust so intensely
And I’m never be able to get enough.
I’ll never stop loving being in love
Jan 2018 · 326
Assholes with Pretty Eyes
Kelly Weaver Jan 2018
Beware of ******* with pretty eyes
Dark hair and a crooked smile
Their hands are only loving at first
But they’ll soon begin to break your bones
And with each snap you’ll only fall deeper
Getting lost in the crystal blue of their iris
And you’ll open your mind, body and soul
So they’ll take you in their arms and eat you whole
They’ll dismantle your temple brick by brick
But you’ll still smile and thank them
Because their eyes put their victims in a trance
And you’ll be blind to see their true evil
Until it’s too late.
Dec 2017 · 514
Goosebumps
Kelly Weaver Dec 2017
Goosebumps
On goosebumps,
On goosebumps.
The air had grown cold by then,
My blue blood clouded my thoughts and the bathwater
My fingers dried up like a heart left in the sun for a bit too long
I was immobile.
My soapy eyes turned bright red The only heat supplied by my body was through my salty tears
I had managed to think of everything and nothing all at once
And it was a lot to process.

So I emerged and grabbed my towel from its hanger
I took my stance in front of the mirror and peered
I looked deep into my being to find what was keeping me here
And came up empty.
So I wrapped my arm,
I brushed my hair,
And I stepped back into reality.
Kelly Weaver Sep 2017
Step 1) panic
Step 2) board up your doors and your widows
Step 3) dispose of your
rations, your water, your supplies. you won’t need them anymore.
Step 4) take a deep breath. breathe in, and breathe out
Step 5) now, take in a deep breath, and hold it until his name isn’t dancing on top of your tongue, and his face isn’t printed into your mind.
Step 6) keep holding.
Step 7) ...
Step 8) ..
Step 9) .
Step 10)
Aug 2017 · 1.1k
our first house
Kelly Weaver Aug 2017
We were young when we built our first house
Each brick was a dream of ours
And though the house was supported
We built it too big.
Too many empty halls,
Too many empty rooms,
So secrets began to check into them.
And when these house guests gathered for breakfast
Their welcome was outgrown.
So our big house emptied, one by one
And it seemed to be the end.

But of course, we could always downsize.

So we were still young when we built our second house
This time, being much smaller
But, unsurprisingly,
This home didn't last long either.
A huge storm arrived,
And tore the boards apart
Yet each gust was oh so tender,
It was as if they came from your hands.

And though I loved to be right,
I hated being right about this.
Jun 2017 · 531
The Worst Day of your Life
Kelly Weaver Jun 2017
The worst day of your life could be spent in one of two ways:
1) with loved ones
2) alone.
However neither is as clear as it ought to be
You could walk home in the pouring rain
Or someone could lend you an umbrella,
But what the can't do is follow you home and make sure you don't drown in something else.
You could sit on the edge of a cliff and have your picture taken
But the photographer is simply being paid for the photos
Not to make sure you don't push yourself off of the edge.
Some people have a difficult time with differentiating between monsters under your bed and monsters in your head
So you're left with an exterior warmth but an interior frost.
And unfortunately, along with the death of the brain comes the death of the soul
So all that can remain is a memory of what you once were
Which can be shaped into different forms based on the people you've touched
There are no second chances.

So the next time you have the worst day of your life, choose to spend it with loved ones,
Even if you'd rather be alone.
Kelly Weaver Jun 2017
As newly-orange leaves trickle down from painted trees
I can smell the season.
And while not even my flannel could prevent goosebumps from forming on my pasty skin,
I feel a pair of arms wrap around the small of my waist
And I'm content.
Coffee brewing from a *** far too old,
I take a warm cup and a blanket
Accompanied by my favorite book
And my favorite guy
To sit out on the porch.
And while the crisp autumn air chilled my spine
I felt warm.
And though it's been years,
Every touch makes me nervous,
And places butterflies in my stomach.
And as a soft rain trickles down from the dark clouds above,
I'm sheltered.
I'm warm.
I am content.
May 2017 · 3.5k
Dear Diary,
Kelly Weaver May 2017
Dear Diary, today is a new day
I waited for all the rain clouds to go away
Things may be looking up from here
I hope I'm not being too hopeful
Dear Diary, I didn't eat today
Not because of self image but rather my stomach's in frayed
Knots and I can't seem to keep anything down
Except the kind words of those who are around
Dear Diary, I couldn't sleep last night though I felt so tired
And that made it so hard to get up in the morning it felt like my
Shoulders were being held down by rain clouds
I wish I could fight this feeling somehow
Dear Diary, people keep asking if I'm okay which I
Don't understand but either way I say
Yes I'm okay, just a little blue
But at night it feels like my mind's split I two
Dear Diary, I cried ten times today
But my parents aren't asking me if I'm okay
I come home each afternoon and lay in my bed until my brain sings a different tune,
Dear Diary, I saw my doctor today
She FINALLY asked me if I was okay and I didn't
Know how to respond because honestly I didn't know on my own,
Dear Diary, I didn't wanna get up today
So I stayed in bed and it was there that I laid
And doodled on my arm with a razor blade until
Every foul thought slowly faded away,
Dear Diary, my parents have noticed my arms
But they didn't seem even remotely alarmed as I
Stayed in bed once more then I added on another four,
Dear Diary, I often wish I was dead because there
Are thoughts screaming at me in my head and I'm
Trapped in this cold body I'm in while I
Waste away as the walls slowly spin
DEAR DIARY, THEY PUMPED MY STOMACH TODAY
AND AFTER HOURS OF AGONY I WISH I HAD STAYED
HOME ONE MORE DAY SO ID HAVE MORE TIME
SO WHEN MY PARENTS CAME HOME THEY'D HAVE ONLY MY BODY TO FIND,
DEAR DIARY, I CAN'T GO ON THIS WAY,
EVERY DAY AFTER DAY IS FILLED WITH PAIN AND I'M
TRAPPED WITH THORNS AROUND MY THROAT BUT
I CANT BRING MYSELF TO BRING THEM UP CLOSE,
Dear Diary, today is a new day
I waited for all the rain clouds to go away
Things may be looking up from here
I hope I'm not being too hopeful.
Apr 2017 · 362
to love a friend
Kelly Weaver Apr 2017
Loving a friend can be as painful as rejection of any sort
Because one slip of the hand and things become awkward
You won't see them as much as you did
And when you do, there's tension
Like walking a romantic tightrope with a gust of wind pushing you from either side, a friendship keeps you stable
But bring love into the equation and it's one sided
You feel the wind working against you and though you may try, you cannot remain stable
You fall, farther than you ever thought you would
Or could
And what's at the bottom
Is even worse.
Apr 2017 · 643
just thinking out loud
Kelly Weaver Apr 2017
My skin is steaming, bubbles forming like scales
As I waste away on my own watch
And there's a churning sensation inside of me
The tides are turning again and again and again
Like in a washing machine.
And I could panic or scream for a bit
Though I'd never be heard
Because help is for the weak, dear
Help is for the weak.
I could wish for calming waters
Or I could make things worse
Like always.
But, truth be told,
I'm a fraud.
My skin is but leather and I'm stuffed
Though I may be alive you'd not know upon first glance
Because I repeat, and repeat like a machine
Without faltering.
All that can be done is dream
For a new path, or a turn for the better
But it's impossible when only in one direction.
Mar 2017 · 439
The Elephant in the Room
Kelly Weaver Mar 2017
The elephant in the room was staring me right in the face.

His piercing eyes tried with all their might to rip me apart, bit by bit
And I'd let them, too
If I had not known what they did when my back was turned.
Breaking off pieces of myself until I'm a shard of glass
A shard of what I once was.
I can't seem to find the right words to say when I'm faced with everything I've ever feared and loved all at once.

But I start with "*******".

"******* for taking my heart and doing everything humanly possible to tear it apart
Ripping up the stitches and watching me wince in pain
My blood dripping onto the floor and all you can do is laugh
You laugh at my pain as if you love it, as if you LIVE for it
But I get no second thoughts from everyone else, this is NORMAL for them
Because I should've known you were bad news, I should've known you would do something like this
But I didn't.
You took my vulnerability and swallowed it whole
You took my shaking hands and broke them into pieces and laughed all the while
You snapped my bones and cracked my skull and this was fun for you, this is fun for you,
And STILL you rip me apart with your eyes, as if I don't know,
As if I don't know that you tore my name to shreds long before I came to know of it,
And that's pretty ****** of you."
Kelly Weaver Mar 2017
I'm still. I watch,
The hustling of the outside world
The ups and downs, twists and turns
Yet I'm immobile.
And I couldn't say how I became this way
I'm still waiting for the answer myself.
But though stagnant,
I can feel myself shutting down.
As my ribs cave in
And my lungs collapse
My hands grow cold and my skin, stone.
And so I wait, alone
On these busy streets
For a change of scenery.
And though I yearn for the outside world,
*I know I can never leave.
Mar 2017 · 401
a loss for words
Kelly Weaver Mar 2017
"What's wrong with you?"
I'm asked once more
As I stare into my hands.
I'm never sure how I should reply
Because they're not happy with "everything".
I can't tell them that my toes are cold
Or that I feel sick when I see him
Or even that I'm just upset
Because those aren't good enough reasons.
I can't say that I'm overwhelmed
Or that I can't get out of bed
And I can't say that my heart is well
When all I feel is dread.
I'm afraid of everything all at once
And I don't know how to say
That I can't believe people when they say
"The future will see better days".
Mar 2017 · 315
advice from a broken heart
Kelly Weaver Mar 2017
**** love, and all that comes with it
**** the ones you fall for though you CLEARLY shouldn't
**** the guys that let you cry yourself to sleep at night without a shred of guilt on the conscience
**** loving someone only to have your happiness shattered into sharp little pieces
And **** trying to pick them all up.

You'll cut your hands on their words, their promises, their smile
They aren't worth the time
The tears
The blood
The emotion the raw emotion that's eating away at your heart while you try to find the courage to stumble out of bed in the morning
**** love and it's empty promises.
All love does is tear people down and rip them apart
You don't deserve this pain
Nobody does but we keep falling in love and keep getting hurt and it's such a vicious cycle so
**** LOVE.
Feb 2017 · 1.4k
saint valentine
Kelly Weaver Feb 2017
Oh, sacred Cupid
Stick me with your arrow and bring me to my feet
My knees have gotten so very weak and tired
Turn my sobs to kisses then back to sobs once more
And allow myself to forget my troubles even for a moment.
Allow love to take its fingers and lock them into mine
Only to break each and every finger just one more time
Touch my skin and allow it to erode and decay
Either finish me off entirely or take your love away

*I'd rather die than live another day
Jan 2017 · 440
agony
Kelly Weaver Jan 2017
It's agony, hearing her name on your tongue
Like ripping my soul out and taking a bite, only to spit it out
And I can't bear seeing a smile she's caused
But all I want is your happiness.
So I'll gladly sit back
And watch you love her, though she's undeserving
And I won't be able to understand what you see in her
But I'll be happy for you
Because you'll be happy.
But just know
That it's agony, hearing her name on your tongue.
Jan 2017 · 372
names
Kelly Weaver Jan 2017
Lust has a name
The same name I whisper in my dreams
Lust has hands as soft as silk and eyes that shine like the stars
Touch like lightening and a laugh like thunder
A smile that could blind.

And Heartbreak shares this name
Heartbreak has a voice that could tear down walls
A grip that could crush the pyramids and words that could turn tides
It has the power to make you wish for the impossible and ache at the sight of a face
I should know.

Lust and Heartbreak have a name.

*You know it like it's your own.
Jan 2017 · 509
a message to depression
Kelly Weaver Jan 2017
*******
*******, YOUR HANDS AROUND MY THROAT
TRYING TO GET ME TO CHOKE ON THE WORDS YOU WROTE
WHILE I STRUGGLE AGAINST YOUR TOUCH AND YOU GRIN KNOWING ALL I WANTED WAS FOR YOU TO LET ME IN
AND I KNOW YOUR SMILE IS FILLED WITH HATE AS YOUR ROTTEN BREATH SEEPS THROUGH YOUR TEETH
AND ALL MY FRIENDS JUST WATCH IN DISBELIEF BUT NOT IN DISBELIEF THAT YOU'RE HURTING ME
THEY JUST STARE AND WONDER WHAT I DID TO **** YOU OFF, WHY I HAD THIS COMING
I CAN FEEL MY BREATH GETTING WEAKER AND MY HEARTBEAT GETTING SLOWER AS I LOOK DEEP INTO YOUR COLD EYES IN SEARCH OF RELIEF BUT FINDING NONE
INSTEAD I'M MET BY YOUR GAZE OF STONE
AND DO YOU KNOW WHAT MY LAST WORDS WILL BE?

*******.
*******.
Jan 2017 · 9.5k
desamation of character
Kelly Weaver Jan 2017
As your salt stings my chapped lips and my open wounds I come less and less to you

You grit your teeth into dust that carries through your heinous breath that makes my eyes water and my heart ache

And I cannot believe not too long ago I turned to you for care and comfort and compassion but instead I was caught in a tight spot lacking wiggle room

I can feel you burning a hole through my chest as I ***** words and phrases that don't make sense when put together like

"I love when you make me cry"
Jan 2017 · 586
Curse That Nobody
Kelly Weaver Jan 2017
How do I begin to explain that I cry when I hear your name if I never want you to feel sorry?
How do I speak of the horrible things I wish had been done to me back when I was at my worst?
I can remember choking on sobs and bleeding on all my pretty white clothes
But I can never remember the way it feels to be loved.
Maybe I never really was loved, though it seemed that way he left and only memories remain.
And I don't miss him but I ******* miss the warmth and comfort he provided when I was at my breaking point.
I don't know how to not feel guilty about wanting to die and maybe it's a good thing because maybe it'll keep me alive
But I cry myself to sleep some nights and I can't remember a time when I felt alright.
And though I feel numb I'll bite my tongue because I don't want you to feel bad,
You can't control your emotions and it's not your fault that I can't remember being anything but sad.

It's nobody's fault.
curse that nobody
Jan 2017 · 569
Another Heartbreak
Kelly Weaver Jan 2017
Another day gone by with tears in my eyes
Another heartbreak under my belt
And by now I'm used to this feeling
But it still hurts.
Maybe it's me.
Maybe it's the way I dress
Or the way I do my makeup
Or the way I "carry myself".
I don't know.
But I do know
That he's in my dreams and I can't seem to shake the feeling that maybe, deep down, he likes me but is too afraid
Yet I know this is not the case.
So now I'll wake up and rub my tired eyes
And carry on once more
As I always have,
With one more heartbreak under my belt.
Jan 2017 · 368
just thinking out loud
Kelly Weaver Jan 2017
I just wanna SCREAM at the tops of my lungs but I'm worried nobody will hear me or, even worse, that I'd be heard and ignored and I can't remember the last time I was that loud

And I can feel my skin become ice cold no matter how many layers I wear and nobody can help anymore and it has **** near killed me

I don't remember how it feels to be content and I wish I did so I could at least find comfort in the past, but it's all a blur and I'm not sure if there's a cure.
Jan 2017 · 376
You'd Be Surprised
Kelly Weaver Jan 2017
While I can't tell you how I'm feeling,
I can play you a song.
I can string together chords
That tell tales much larger than mine
And that stretch from the mountains to the sea
You'd be surprised.
How a song can bring you to a foggy day
And you can almost smell the rain
And hear every little droplet which remains
You'd be surprised.
How a melody can show you a field
Filled with a fresh snowfall
And how you can feel the cold
On your bare skin
You'd be surprised.
So when I sing to you
The tale of my struggles and confusion
You'll feel what I felt
And you will hug me.
Because you'll feel the pain in my chest
And you'll wonder how I managed to breathe all this time
You'd be surprised.
Dec 2016 · 387
Better Days
Kelly Weaver Dec 2016
I can't seem to find the words to express how badly distressed I become when I think of you
And I can't seem to understand why I'm losing sleep
I feel lost I am lost and I can't find my way out
I'd like to cry and I'd like to scream and I'd like to let it all go
But I'd suddenly recall a time when it all washed away and I'd remember the way my future was clear as day
And I'd miss the feeling of knowing my next steps
Or the answers to the tests
But I never knew.
And I miss love
I miss being loved and I miss loving life
I miss being happy that I was alive
I miss the days when the sun would shine and the grass was green and the world was kind
Some people would argue these days didn't exist
But they did when I was with you.
They did when I was with you.
Nov 2016 · 2.6k
The Naked Truth
Kelly Weaver Nov 2016
If mirrors were made to be looked into
And people deserve to be loved
Why didn't I feel good peering into
The merciless glass?
Why was I told that my body
No matter how wonderful I felt
Was disgusting?
Why did my eyes veer away from the truth
As I stood, body prominently shown
Even when I felt beautiful?
When a society gets to the breaking point
Where a girl can try her absolute best to be healthy
And someone asks "who are you doing this for?"
As if the answer is something other than herself
There is a problem.

Spending most of my life absolutely loathing my reflection was pointless

Those telling me I need to change
Telling me I should be ashamed
Looking me up and down with a disgusting countenance that spewed hatred and the only words they could make out was "how much do you weigh?"

They were wrong.

There's no need to bring the happy down
And baby, I was soaring before you came around
I WILL LOOK TO MY REFLECTION AND ALL BUT FROWN
I WILL EMBRACE MY CURVES AS THE WINDING HILLS THEY ARE
MY BEAUTIFUL STRETCH MARKS MAKES MY BODY MORE INDIVIDUAL THAN ANY IRON-BOARD
I WILL REJOICE FOR RECOGNIZING MYSELF AS THE GODDESS I TRULY AM
STRUCK DOWN FROM HEAVEN ONLY TO RISE AGAIN
MY BODY THE SACRED TEMPLE OF THE GODS
AND WHEN ASKED HOW I BEAT THE ODDS I WILL SAY,

"We have been taught to hate
Those that appear a certain way
By an unqualified teacher.

And one day, alone with my mirror
I peered into it to see my body clearer
And I realized my beauty was there all along

I was just looking through clouded lenses."
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