i feel like i am being held by the throat
and my eyes drip with tears
and my chest feels heavy
and i don't know what to do
because all i want is to be where you are

these moments always stick out,
like the branches that would get caught
in the creek where i'm sure i smoked a joint with you,
but the truth is you remember more of me

i'm sure that this sensation is falling, but i can't recall
what it feels like to have it happen because
your soul reflects someone else's -
maybe i've never known that kind of love

you whispered to me about a party at joe's,
how it was your first time coming round and
i introduced myself, about a kiss i stole in a
dive bar, about sleeping with me in my tiny bed

i wish i could remember, but whiskey stole
those memories away when i was just a little
girl with no real understanding of what it meant
to hold a man and know i might hold him forever

when i lay my insecurities in the mossy beds of
the forests that make up our existence here, i find
you looking at me in a way that leaves me without
fear, and instead a peace that's bigger than all of this

the universe whispers to me while i sleep - sweet
sounds of a greater good, a love that lives within and
without us, an interconnected force that feeds the soul -
i find you amidst it all, your only wish, to hold me

See that bed?
That's where he had his heart attack
When my dad was alive.

See that hospital?
That's where he was
When my dad was alive.

See those chairs?
We sat there waiting
When my dad was alive.

See those double doors?
I walked through those
When my dad was alive.

See that fountain?
I used to see it everyday
When my dad was alive.

See that cafeteria booth?
That's where me and my family ate
When my dad was alive.

See that nurse?
I think she might recognize me from
When my dad was alive.

See that couch?
That's where I sat
When I learned
That my dad had died.

your spirit wrapped it's hands around me,
cold fingers with chewed on nails brushing over my collarbones
"you are certainly worth getting to know better."
"you make me realize what I am worthy of becoming."
"you see the good beneath my bloodshot eyes."
demons do not scream
they do not possess children
they do not leave trails of black on your grandmother's white carpet
they kiss you
they lean in to your ear and tell you all the ways you two could be one day
"I want a house, and three girls,"
he would say, his hot breath filling my eardrums
"I'll be a pediatrician, so I can save lives,"
he would tell you, his hand on your thigh
"I'd never leave you,"
he would yell, in between thrusts between your red and gray sheets
lies
it was all a trick
demons climb under your skin and lodge themselves beneath your bones
they seep their ethereal words into your bloodstream so that it can flow straight to you heart,
so that it'll be the first sound in the air when you take out your blades yet again, to release your demons into the atmosphere
they leave the taste of their secrets in your mouth so that they come to mind every time you speak
they break your heart and pour bleach into your eye sockets because if they don't want you then no one else should.
I remember how it felt
to sit on your bedroom floor
I see it in black and white blurs
there used to be color there
but it left with you
"you're the most intriguing girl I've seen in a long time,"
says the boy at the business conference,
he's trying to get you back to his hotel room
"you deserve so much more than this,"
whispers the baseball player,
he's trying to be polite
"I wrote you a song, since you remind me of music notes,"
tongues the musician,
he's trying to stop drinking
they're all trying
trying to be
nice
better
different
so many demons without souls
one put his hat in my locker last fall,
he wanted me to wear it,
I didn't.
one put his arm around me last spring,
he wanted me to taste his lips,
I didn't.
one put his sketchbook in my hands last winter,
he wanted me to realize I was art,
I didn't.
but sometimes you miss demons
one left me because
I wasn't loving enough
one left me because
I wasn't slutty enough
one left me because
I wasn't confident enough
I was
closed off
with closed legs
and closed lips
I missed his smile
but he missed my body
I missed his hands
and he missed where his hands went
I missed his eyes
and he missed my bed

Too long I've rested upon my throne.
Ordained as ruler,
I wield a sceptre
imbued with old indoctrinated notions.
Bound in aged, tired traditions.
Obstinacy clasped tight within my fingers.

Living by the
foundations laid,
imposed by predecessors before.
I realise that I am but caged
within my self enforced confines.

I want what lays beyond...
But I am afraid...
And more...

I must embrace the unknown.
Be fearless...
And take to the darkness.

Because...

One can only fly free into greatness
if one is unafraid to take the leap
into changing winds.

If you break a poets heart
You will live on forever
Everything they say will be infused with aftermath of you
The emotions
Loneliness you left with them
Will fill all thier writing
Inspired them to write more
You will be a co-author in millions of poems
The inspiration to thousands works of art
And you won't even know it
You wont even know in a hundered years you will still live on
You dont know about your newly found
*Immortality

And my thoughts tend to be enclosed to myself
     For only my head to place them upon a shelf
To think as I please
     And develop an idea that may or may not appease,
These people do understand how this process works
     Policies created and all that lurks
Before you and I, in a different place
     Subject to locking lips and showing face --
When it came to thinking what you believe
     You were forced to leave
'Welcome home' they would say
     'This could never feel like home' considering all the games
      they play--
Off the shelf my thoughts will roll
     My words spoken, content, without paying a toll

knowing you seemed to **** some life out of me
my efforts were a collection of habits that you superimposed to my mind
anything i knew was based around you
the coffee in the morning i thought woke me up,
was really only thrilling because you were the one serving it
drinking it black-
since it seemed to be a reflection of your heart