Lauren Prather: Poems

Lauren Prather Feb 2017

2 o'clock is the loneliest time. Looking at the red beaming numbers on the clock, craving the warmth of someone next to you but all you get is the cool cusp of air penetrating your sheets from the window that never fully shut. You opened that window and said you'd always keep me warm, and not to worry when I yelled and yelled at you about how it wouldn't ever shut again.

2 o'clock is the loneliest time. But now it's 2 am and my tears have frozen on my face because you're not here like you promised you would be. The faint silhouette gently graces my mind. I can still feel your heart beating from my ear lying on your v neck covered chest.

2 o'clock is the loneliest time. I should be dreaming. Asleep with your muscular and hairy arms wrapped around my pale skin. But you're not here anymore. So I pull down my covers and glide across to my window. Turning the *** until my fingers indented the pattern. It shut.

2 o'clock is the loneliest time. But I stay asleep dreaming of colors and beautiful beaches with glowing waters and warm sand on my back. I can feel the beauty within my shuttering eyelids.

#feelings #lonely #thoughts #personal #2am

A Familiar 'Friend'

Lauren Prather Apr 2017

A Familiar 'Friend'

Anxiety.
Scaring people away since 1996. If you couldn't tell, I'm pretty good friends with anxiety. We talk every day, we know each other pretty well, that is for the last 21 years. I guess we've had a lot of time to get acquainted. I know when anxiety is about to come over and stay...well anxiety used to leave, sometimes, but nowadays he usually ends up living with me...he's not invited though. Don't get me wrong. He just shows up. I guess I'm too nice of a person to kick him out, instead I let him in, I let him sleep in my bed, I let him crawl deep inside me and stay. I let him eat my food and use my energy. He likes getting strong. But when he's strong he burrows into my veins and organs... He forces my stomach to twirl and squeezes my lungs so I cant breathe... He pumps my heart so its beating faster than a drummer can move...

But that's my friend...

He's just making music right?
He wants my body for a beautiful thing...I should feel lucky right? That such a well known subject chose me, of all people. Anxiety is always there for me right ? He never seems to leave me alone especially when depression comes to visit, what more do you want in a friend ? He's loyal, that's for sure.

But you see anxiety is no friend. Most friends don't try killing the ones they love most.

#anxiety #depression #thoughts #fears #spokenword #slam

"But I love you"

Lauren Prather Aug 2016

"But I love you"

Ropes stretching, squeezing my lungs,
binding flesh in, and expanding pink tissue,
suffocating, coughing, choking up words.
My throat pinched, struggling to say
                           What I Need To Say.

Scars on my heart and on my hand,
reddish bruises covering my pale abdomen,
shrills held in, but do I risk it?
What's one more beautifully purple mixed blue
                           Infraction?

Why do I stay with a creature,
morbid, able to inflict pain on someone,
                            On Me.
Gasping for air, that salty, watery substance
inundating my every crease.

"I love you baby."
But he loves me. I've never been loved.
I can't lose something I have been needing.

Covering up my myriad continual pain,
the marks that I'm constantly reminded of,
turning into a vibrant watercolor painting with each passing day.
I've had enough.
I'm done.
Please Stop!
"but I love you"

By The Sea

Lauren Prather Mar 2017

By The Sea

Isn't the dream to live by the sea shore?
In a small wooden home shutters opening with the wind.
A cool breeze jumping down the spine,
a small layer of sand covering the hallway

Watching the sun set over the calmly rippling water

watching the lightening over the vast darkened blue space

Watching and listening to the seagulls join together for a party

I've always dreamt about the sea.
I've had this image of the utterly perfect house since I was little.

The brown and teal blue home with teal perfectly in line shutters
looking out at the beautifully blue tinted green body of water
I can hear the thrashing of the tides during the storm
I can hear the whisper of the waves before dusk

For now, it's just a dream.

For now I'll triple lock the doors,
never say "hi" to the neighbors, a chaotic group of men who partake in illicit activities
never step outside after dark,
live in a pit of terror every night falling asleep.

But I will have my dream.
I crave the sheer idea of this possibility.
Tonight I lay my head on the beaten up discolored and rectangle block,
once soft and fluffy, full of freshly stuffed cotton and feathers

dreaming of a home, my home
by the sea.

#dreams #hopes #sea

Depression

Lauren Prather Mar 2017

Depression

Depression,

The only way you can feel lonely in a room full of people.

The only way you can sit with a smile on your face, but deep down the monsters are scraping at every part of you

The only way you get up every morning, but wish your body would morph to the bed and rot in one shape.

Depression,

A survival game that forces you to wake up every morning and tell yourself tomorrow will be better.

#sad #depression #lonely #depressed #anxiety #thoughts #2am #saddening

Ill keep you alive

Lauren Prather Mar 2017

Ill keep you alive

Smells,
Association,
Emotions.

You can get one drift of a certain scent and it will leave you thinking for hours.

As a little girl, I remember the sweet and bitter smell of the tangerine trees in my great grandmother's barren backyard. The smell lit up the entire neighborhood.

The smell of my sisters perfume. She used to give me just a squirt every time I saw her because it was so expensive. I was just a child, I didn't understand.

The smell of the ocean my aunt used to live by. The salty sea and sand aroma filled the open windows in her house mixed with the chlorine from her one person sized pool.

The funny thing about scent is it never goes away. I can still smell the tangerine trees, her perfume and the beautiful mixture of the oceans salty breeze and chlorine.

These scents make me believe these three incredible women's souls live on past their time. I can still feel their presence with me with each aroma

#death #family #personal #association #smells #aroma

Why Dear, Everything Has To End

Lauren Prather Aug 2016

Why Dear, Everything Has To End

Reminiscing on that same playground,
that a young girl with blue bows,
pigtails, and Mary-Janes
would play on every day.

Sitting on what was once
a bright yellow tube, now faded to white.
You can almost hear the echo of
laughing and screaming children.

What was once newly stained wood,
now rotted, a vacant nest,
to the myriad families of inhabitants
no longer able to use the decrepit foundation.

Sitting in silence, deathly still,
with one move, dirt plows off the wood,
what was once a beautiful blooming tree,
creaks with old age.

With the honk of a horn
from the newly shined yellow vehicle,
I breathed so deep, my lungs engulfed the decomposing smell,
and jumped off that playground,

one
last
time.

— The End —