genius comes in fragments poetry comes in slivers of sentences open to all yet mastered by none merely mortals weaving a web a web of words of truths and lies of things made plain and things we hide and as we navigate this artful web we realize just how much we are out of our depth
there are so many twists and turns that I can’t seem to follow and I’m getting frustrated.
where is the start and where is the end? and why is it so confusing?
i can’t sit still—my legs want to get up and go but my brain is too tired for that right now. i stay seated and try to untangle what is the big grey lump in my skull, trying to figure out what it’s trying to say.
but it’s illegible and i can’t, like a foreign language I don’t recognize.
hopefully as i spill out on to what was a blank sheet of paper i can break through those knots and maybe comprehend the load of thoughts running through and around each other in the space of my body that has been assigned to them.
i only wish i knew for certain that there would finally be a break through and that i will know what I should be knowing.
gathering myself might help as I feel as if i’m spread across a massive surface that i can’t seem to find all the pieces of myself on.
but how can I find myself when I barely know myself?
when i find out, i’ll let you know.
This is an edited and shorter version of a very messy poem I wrote in high school. So like 8+ years ago.
i told my therapist about you, while your lips were still slathered alllll over my body. i showed her the places we had been, and all the things we had seen. i told her what lies underneath that pretty pretty skin of yours, and i told her how i knew. i spelt out your name as she scribbled it on her cute little clipboard, i told her about the first night and the second and the fourth and that time in the closet. i told her everything, i really just wanted to get you out of my brain, it didn't matter if saying these things put me in sososo much pain. because you've moved on so why can't i? i told my therapist about you, but i still can't tell you goodbye. i know i'm s t u p i d, for holding on this l o n g, i know it's useless, for wishing you weren't gone. but my words carry on like a heartbeat s l o w steady fast u s e d n t a y i keep keep keep breaking and breaking and breaking and i told my therapist about you.
i think part of the reason why we hold onto something so tight is because we fear something that great will never ever happen twice
i gave my heart away to a traveler in ****** shoes, he had pretty eyes that made up for his pretty lies, and now i don't know what to do. i gave my soul away to a girl that said she worked for god, she had oil in her hair but i didn't really care, but she wasn't at all what i'd thought. i gave my dreams to an artist i met down the street, he knew what buttons to press to make me scream, and now i'm not so sure that was a good thing. i fell for a rose i thought was thriving, but she was wilted, she was dying, and i left quick as lightning. i gave my limbs to a walking light beam, he was made of this steel that tightly wrapped around me, but these indents in my bones are a little too extreme. i gave my poetry to the monster under my bed, she crawled in and promised in the morning we'd be wed, and now there's no rings but a shadow begging me to turn off the sun instead.
i’ve never fallen in love before but i’m telling you if i did, my bones would screech and creak and ***** to build you a home that doesn’t fight back and i would shower you with love until you drowned because i don’t know how to love unless it becomes too much someway or somehow and you would become all that i breathe and need and see and the very sound of your name would be enough to cause another relapse because i’ll get addicted too soon and too fast and you’ll think it’s great at first until i’m publicly on my knees aching for your velvet kisses back and i've never cared for someone this way before but i'm telling you if i did, my lungs would collapse and inflate again and again because you will be the only thing i'll ever breathe in and the people in my life would never amount to you, and maybe that's a little messed up but i wrote it felt it bled it, so it must be true because i don't know how to let someone in unless i push every other person out and you'll love my attention at first until you're throwing glass plates at my following figure until you're yelling regrets and things i should've considered until you hate me because you don't want to be the only one even if i want you to be. i’ve danced with the devil because he has the prettiest eyes i’ve ever seen in my life but i didn’t love him i’ve kissed the hands of god because he smells like my childhood home and i liked that a lot but i didn’t love him i’ve cut open my skin for my first girlfriend because she promised to stay and that drove me insane but i didn’t love her and i’m telling you if i did i would write a poem convincing her that i didn’t because i’ve never loved in a way that doesn’t became some form of a burden. and i don’t love you yet but i am going to scrub my words into your ***** body and i am going to promise that there’s nobody but you and you are going to love every second of it because you’ve given in to destruction and seduction and you already understand everything about pain you already know there’s everything to lose and i’m the only thing you’d gain but that’s okay because you’ve never fallen in love before.
i've been beaten and bruised but nothing hurts more than you