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liz Sep 2014
17 times I
fell for
that promise.
Oh no,
no not again.

I was so afraid
to say the truth
'cause I know
it would break your heart.
But this is not about you anymore.

I don't know
how to make you realize
that you are alive,
and that you're human too.

Where were you?
When I needed your touch,
or your kisses goodnight?
Oh, I lost you to soon.
liz Sep 2014
5 steps to walk out of the room.
23 steps to make it to the front door.
2 steps to be one with the wind.
1 step to follow a dream.

5 times you fell.
23 times you didn't believe.
2 times you almost did.
1 time you gave up.

5 ways to handle this.
23 ways to make an excuse.
2 times to get rejected.
1 time to put it to sleep

31 roads and excuses to no where
liz Oct 2014
I said, "don't blame yourself." But I was in over my head. Your excuses were painted on the walls, I fell for them again.

I guess I should have seen it coming. Wanting to pack my bags, and walk out the door.

Different cities would be good; different walls to keep us separated.
Maybe we were better off, only seeing each other once in a while.

That's the worst part- that it came to this. Fragmented stares from across the room. You had this war with you inside; so you gave up the fight. As did I.

Different towns would be good, different roofs for us to call a home.
Maybe we were better off only saying I love you once in a while.

But I fought so hard for this, screamed for you to realize that the heart inside of you is pumping blood. That you were living, that you were real.

Then one night the fury came out. I saw your cold bitter stone
of a thing your supposed to call a heart.

Then I realized.
You were dead a long time ago.
liz Nov 2014
I wasn't afraid of you, you know.
You had your team and your burning stares,
but I wasn't afraid.
Little did you know, I had my arrows pointed at you.
We all had the same passion-
In the beginning that is.
We all wanted something out of this experience.
But most importantly,
we all wanted to be on top.
So we started climbing the
cold, ragged, stormy mountain
to see who could make it to the there.
I was behind in the beginning,
invisible from their distance above.
A tiny ant that could be stomped upon,
an inconvenience.
But in the distance below,
through the evergreen trees
and the cold rustling wind,
I had my arrows pointed at you.
I started gaining up seed,
I saw the looks of your faces as I was passing by you.
The defeat.
Looking into the those eyes,
I still had my arrows pointed at you.
And I reached the top.
With callused feet and sore muscles.
With an aching heart and an uneven chest.
I looked down below and then saw your laughs.
Your smiles.
I heard your words.
You had your fingers pointed to me.
They were now my demons,
haunting me in the light.
The were now scars on my heart,
locking myself further and further away.
But in the night and in the light of day,
I had my arrows pointed to you.
I’m dancing on this mountain,
at least for right now.
Because I’m at the top,
so why not enjoy it.
But my arrows are still like a live wire
between my fingers
pointed at you.
I saw you today.
I tried to look away,
to keep you and your heartless soul
in a distant memory stored away
like a forgotten childhood trait.
But you swerved your path and fell right into mine.
You want me to be afraid.
You want me to regret the decisions I made.
You want me to be weak.
But darling,
you've got it all wrong.
Because when success seeps through my veins
and you’ll be forced to hear my name
every day- to you, like nails on a chalkboard-
remember this.
That I was never afraid.
I made the right decisions.
I was never weak.
Because my arrows were always pointed at you.
And now the fingers of life are the ones
that are letting these arrows target straight to your heart.
And like always,
I’ll always be at the top of that mountain with
With callused feet and sore muscles.
With an aching heart and an uneven chest.
But this time you won’t be laughing and smiling
and saying false words about me.
You’ll be afraid
because I’ll have my dignity
and my team of burning stares
with our arrows pointed at you
liz Sep 2014
Breaths apart.
These eyes could work as one.
Tied together.
Chest to chest, we couldn't be any closer.
It dawns on me what you mean to me.
I can't leave.

Your fingers trail down my cheek,
Leaving fire in its track.  
I'm burning for more.
I can't leave.

My future,
Didn't involve this place.
I was meant to be with the changing seasons,
The evergreen trees;
In small towns with infinite possibilities.
But I can't leave.

My heart skips a beat.

Your face contorts,
You know I'm thinking.
You know my mind:
A thousand thoughts per minute.

You lean in,
As if we weren't close enough.
"Tell me," you say.
Your hand trails down my back,
And I'm liquid to the touch.
You pull me closer.

My head is shaking,
Saying no to more.
I'm getting too attached.

"I can't-"
I try to say.
"I won't leave."

Now, your shaking your head.
You laugh against my neck-
This isn't funny.

You say my name and I'm gone.
*"I go," you say "wherever you go."
liz Sep 2014
There's only so much one can be.
I write, I sing, I play a melody-
I believe.

Trust has fallen to the floor.
Too many hands have come in
to break my heart.

What if I could be a bird?
I would spread my wings and fly,
and be one with the wind.

What if I could be the ocean?
I would be the waves kissing the shore,
'cause I always come back for more.

What if one day they woke up
and believed in me?
Would they ask me to play?
Or hear what I have to say?

Calluses form on my fingers.
From lifting the weight,
to playing these strings-
I'm on my own.

What if I was an arrow?
Would I fight off the enemies?
Or would I lead somebody
back home?

What if I could grant wishes?
Would I grant my own?
Or would I give this world a miracle?

I'm telling you,
I'll play my music.
I'm screaming at you,
please believe in me.

I would give this world wonders
if you would just
believe in me.
A lot of the time, one might find themselves chasing after their dreams... alone. This is dedicated to the ones who dream big and no one seems to notice your color.
Believe in yourself. It would give this world wonders.
liz May 2016
He’s afraid of the ocean
because he doesn’t understand why the shoreline deserves to be kissed
every time they push the waves away.
He thinks we’re all going to die and it’ll be for nothing;
that will live to fill up empty spaces like headless bees
with a desire to sting the very first thing we touch.
He believes that these limitations and politics are pointless
because apparently keeping your hands to yourself was something someone made up
because they were crookedly insecure about themselves.
He looks up at the sky and hates the moon
because it doesn’t burn bright enough to cover up all the secrets that the stars hold.
So he blames the system and closes his eyes and goes to sleep.
He listens to renditions of the same story told in fifteen different ways and is captivated every time because its so simple
and so easy
to have someone teach them for you
instead of sleeping on a bed of blades.
He doesn’t even walk
he saunters
and nods as a hello
and wears baseball caps
because maybe it’ll shadow the lies he wears creased between his eyes.

He isn’t real,
no matter how many times you touch him.

He’ll claim that he is a bearer of the sun and that the light is the ode to freedom
but you’ve never in your life kissed anything so cold.
He’ll whisper to you and you’ll want to whisper back,
but you’ll find yourself driving home
screaming at the top of your lungs
because you left drunk
and he was more worried about his career
than your heart through the windshield
when he could've just drove you home himself.
He’s Pinocchio and you’ll end up wishing he could lie better
So you could feel like a respected lady just once.
But his tone reminds you
that the only kind of love a boy like him is made for
is the kind of love that leaves you bleeding and wet.
He’s an empty auditorium full of reverberating echoes
and you’ll spend your time
when the show will end—
Not even realizing that the jokes on you.
You could’ve drawn the curtains at any point in time
but you didn’t
because he was smiling
And nothing in this world is as lethal as his smile
as he tells you
there’s nothing to be afraid of

Those words are bullets
and you weren’t wearing any armor.
are dangerous
liz Oct 2014
I know your small... It's a really big world out there. Full of devastation and wonders and crimes and love.
But it's okay, because you mean the world to me.

People seem to have these small mouths with certain vindictive words that blow your confidence six feet under.
But it's okay, the future holds beautiful promises for you.

Looking back to the past, seems like looking at a life not of yours.
As if the eyes that once were are not the eyes you bear now.
A kolidescope of difference and confusion.  
But it's okay, because I will make my hands the lenses you need to see clear again.

It gets sad and lonely.
Youll get lost and unsure.
But its okay, I'll be the compass and the light to guide you and keep you warm.

It gets hazy and rainy.
You'll get drowned and need the search for air.
But it's okay, because
Everything will be okay.
liz Jul 2015
It's when the ocean waves stop singing
When she feels like she's drowning.
liz Aug 2014
You said don't leave me tonight
And I did.
Not because it was late and your liver was filled with lust with a gitty mind.
It was because you broke the last string.
The last string that held this harp together so that we can get through these rough times in harmony.
You broke it.
And you broke all the other strings with the countless mistakes you made trying and trying to make me love you the way you love me.
I don't.
Love you that is.
I did in the beginning- it was new.
Like the smell of a new car,
or the feeling of the new jacket you just bought at American Eagle.
But soon the smell and the feeling fades.
It was like stepping into new territory with welcoming arms and walking down that path to a crowd of endless smiles.

But then the storms settled in.
The clouds wiping out the life in our eyes.
The rain poured down on our hearts, melting away all the beautiful memories.
The lightening bruising my tethering muscles.
The thunder rumbled our solid ground and cracks started forming around our feet.
Separating us into different worlds.
To different storms.
To different life.
But you didn't want that.
You fought against fate without a care.
For what the world wanted or worse.
For what I wanted.
You kept leaping over these intended cracks, finding the wrong way back to me.
You let the storm rage on not understanding why it keeps raining.
But you didn't realize that the control was in your hands.

I was the figure in the night that guided you, but only for a little while.
I wasn't meant to stay.
I didn't want to stay.
So you let the control run to your finger tips, letting the lightening be your strike to get me back.
You let the rain settle over me like an endless water fall, drowning me to no end.
You let the clouds linger around me, my greens eyes running paler by the day.
And you asked me
"Why are you so miserable?"
I said I don't know.
*But the truth is my dear, it was you and your endless need to control my movements and be the tar within my lungs drowning me in the storm.
liz Jun 2015
Eight minutes.
Eight minutes, the journey of light from the sun to her windowsill.
It's here she'll sit, waiting in her velvet chair with a patience so still.
Fingers tap against the cold white marble, thinking about jumping.
But she's tried before, and hands grabbed her wings and pulled them back and made her feathers stuffing.
And then the Angel thought about the moon- it was created by imperfections.
The angel took a step back with a hearts new rhythm, already feeling the disconnections.
The light only ever blinded and burned what was beneath the halo of a righteous follower.
She kisses the darkness and the stars weren't hidden, they held her power.

Eight minutes.*
Eight minutes, the journey of light from the sun to her windowsill.
But she isn't home anymore with a chair to fill.
She gathered her folded wings and ran
And learned how to fly without the light, just because she can.
Rebellion doesn't have to me loud.
liz Dec 2014
I used to be able to fly.
It was incredibly simple,
effortlessly easy.

I used to kiss the sky
with my wings by my side-
two loyal companions
in a treacherous war.

The war had four letters-
four letters; all matter.
Four letters, each carrying
a destructible weapon.


They blinded me
and I couldn't tell which one it was,
but one of them had hands.
Merciless hands.
Enemy hands.
Peppered hands.

Ten fingers plucked at my wings-
ripping my feathers out one by one like
plucking eyelashes from a human eye.

I held unlucky pennies.
I breathed the air of space.
I felt the knife of a killer.
I heard nothing-
nothing at all.

But I guess you have to lose your wings in order to understand what it is that truly makes you fly.
i want to be able to fly again
liz Aug 2014
It's all the words that are jumbled in your head.
It's all the emotions burning your veins.
It's the way your mouth dries
And how your throat clams up.
It's when you have so much to say,
But you can't say anything at all.
It's like trying to climb up the ladder,
To the promising light above.
To reach the top, for it to be too blinding
And throws you back down.
Your left to mend the broken pieces
With blood tears and scratching screams because
You were already broken.
You fell off that ladder
Over and over and over again.
The blisters on your hands,
The sweat dripping down your back,
The ache in your legs,
Push you to the the top.
You keep climbing and climbing.
You don't know to what,
But you see the light.
And it settles into your eyes like fresh roses and into your mind like a dream.
It never shuts off.
It never wavers.
It's always on.
So when the shadows from below try to pull you down and succeed,
Or when the tides swallow you whole, the salt burning your cuts,
And when that water enters your mouth, your voice to an inaudible whisper,
Remember that it wasn't the ladder or the water or the shadows or the burning cuts that were supposed to lift you up to the top as a warrior.
It was your blistered hands,
The working sweat seeping down your hallow neck,
And the ache in your legs
That was supposed to follow a dream.
Not a blind hope.
liz Jun 2015
Dear Old Friend,
I thought of you today,
but of course you'd never know.
I have words for you in eraser shavings
in notebooks between pages
I'll never put in an envelope to send to you.
Our promises quickly became
echoes in a ballroom where
we never learned how to dance.
Your voice faded in the way
a flower dies without the sun.
I lost you as you found your way.
I lost myself as you found another heart to hold.
My Old Friend,
that's all you'll ever be.
Dust upon ashes of the burned letters
that were supposed to mean something.
Because time is in numbers,
and you've already passed.
liz Sep 2014
I'll go home if I can.
What I would do to make
these stars seem real again...

I would run for miles and miles and miles.

The leaves outside my window
don't change.
It's like this town is frozen in time.

I want to feel auburn, burning my veins alive.

I want to feel
A dark cold December,
I want to remember the way it felt
to be tucked in my sheets
on a cold winters night.
I want to feel it again.

oh, I want to feel it again.

Wondering what it's like
to have a compass that leads you
back to your lost heart.

I want that arrow pointing me homeward on.

The tides out my window
don't change.
But the ones in my dreams
are drowning me alive.

I want to be the one to rise above it all.

I want to feel
A night full of ember,
I want to remover the way
it felt
to dance in the wind on a
chilled summers night.
I want to feel it again.

The way Id look up at the sky
with possibilities,
Instead of obligations.
I want to feel it again.

*I want to feel it again.
liz Feb 2015
She always tied her shoelaces
With a grace
That she will always

But she was sure
To put her socks on
Just the way her mother did:
Neat and tidy.

An unsettling discomfort consumes her,
Knowing the feeling is never the same unless she does it.

So she is left at the bottom of the staircase,
Doing it herself.

She always caught
Opportunity and shoved it
In her pocket.
She was an optimist
And loved it.

But she was sure to
Read the fine print
Just as her father always did:
For errors and loops.

It's either triumph or pure hatred
That consumers her,
Knowing that she has packed her bags
And left that world behind
To create one of her own.

It was too dark over there,
Yet it hadn't always been that way.
She remembered the sunny days,
Those were the most lethal.
Those were the days that would
Haunt her dreams...
Haunt her reality.

The glow of day would be the shadows
That rip her apart.
Because it's only memory that she continues
To live for.

She fell deep into the world
And when it ****** her right out,
She was left grasping for air that
Didn't think the way she did:
Deserving and earned.

It was bliss that consumed her
Once she realized
She didn't have to fight
No more.
liz Nov 2014
A week ago you were here,
and now you're gone.
My mind tries to flimsily grasp
the unfathomable that swirls around
the empty pit you left inside of me
due to your sudden departure.

They said you floated on at impact,
suffering not in the vocabulary.
They said many other things,
but it just lead to claw scratching questions
we will never be able- nor want- to get the answers to.

So we sit here and wait for the grief to cut its path
like a storm waiting to pass.
The ones you left behind,
truly lock eyes for the first time
beginning to understand what the
true meaning of love really is.

So we live here, living for each other...
for you.
We pass hugs and condolences,
tears and admiration.
Cries and laughter.
For you.
For us.
To pass the grief.

You were a warrior,
and silent king.
You were a beautiful light,
a spouting sunflower.
But you left too soon,
gone any trace of you.

So we are left here remembering you,
keeping you alive in memory
and alive at heart.

A week ago you were here,
and now you're not.
But every time my feet touch the water
at the shoreline in the brisk wind,
I'll remember what you always used to say:

*"Float On"
For Sierra.
liz Sep 2014
It's not that I changed,
I just wasn't the same.
liz Dec 2014
Whenever I tried talking to you
you pushed your hair back
to tell me
you've always had it worse.

Maybe silence created you
to rebel against nature,
oh they did well.

I've once seen lifeless eyes speak
a million words
one of them was yours.

Maybe tears created you
because that's all you are
in my arms.

The hands of the clock
don't go back,
but you cling to them
to a time that's long gone.

You are a gone girl.
G  o   n      e     g     i        r       l
liz Oct 2014
I don't seem do this well,
sitting at the table
pretending everything is alright.
I'd rather sit
in the corner of the bedroom
and listen to beautiful nothing
than listen to voices drip blood
on razor blade silence.

Promises have no meaning to them.
Absolutely none.
But I will give you
everything I've got
to have everything make since-
and then suddenly ill disappear.
                                                                                     Gone without a trace.

Life shouldn't be this busy
when I'm sitting on this floor
wondering what to do.
The answer is on my fingers
playing these strings...
                                                                                             *This is the one.
liz Sep 2014
These thoughts will forever be
A silent battle within my mind.
But I shall never let these words
Shoot fire from my lips
To create a war with your oblivious heart.
liz Mar 2015
One more word
& I'm out the door.
You beg and plead:
"You're always mad at me!"
I said:
"Oh, please..."

I watched the
feather fall.
You snickered and laughed
as the world fell
through your lap.

Two times I saw
those lifeless eyes,
but you still had
a beating heart.
So, I spent the night
chasing cars.

I heard the angels sing-
It was through a crack in the door.
I guess they don't take apologies.

The flood is coming in,
you better know how to swim.
The skies are growing dark,
and we've got to travel far.
The walls in my room
have turned to ashes.

We are living in hallways of ashes.

Three words
& I'm numb.
I don't feel them at all
so don't feel like you need to
make that call.

I felt my armor fall.
One day we're at rest
then the next,
there's an arrow in my chest.

Fourth time around,
I finally figured it out.
I need to let you go;
you're love has got
nothing to show.

I saw the candle dim.
The light inside of you
is black blue,
burning these floors and our walls
into hallways of ashes.
liz Jan 2015
It just needs to rain.
For too long, the sky has shown itself. Naked. Dry. Emotionless.
Not a signal of weakness in the day,
no tears to rid in the night.

I just need to see it again.
To feel it again.
To smell it again.

The clouds need to come in
Not too much; not too dark.
Just enough for the earth to prove that it's human too.
The sun needs to be weak.
Just hanging off the horizon,
not at its brightest
but at its warmest.

And then it just needs to rain-
To cry;
Because I want to feel it too.
I want to be the water that hits the pavement
And I want to be a reflection of the world in that exact moment, joined in a puddle of human emotion.

It needs to rain because the sky is human too.
It needs to rain so I can feel a little blue.

In this moment the rain will wash everything away,
And from this view down where the houses don't change,
It is here that I'll stay.
liz Sep 2014
Home is where
your walls have seen
all the ones you love.

Home is where
you've been hurt,
and the floor was your best friend.

Home is where
cheers of joy filled the halls
on a holiday with champagne.

Home is where
every single square inch of your heart
is mended and safe.

Home is where
I haven't been in quite some time.
How long has it been since home was a constant melody dancing in the air?
liz Nov 2013
Its like a forest,
this life, that is.
It goes on and on.
It all looks the same.
No matter where you go,
you'll be lost
if you don't know exactly where your heading.

Now imagine this.
A forest full of black trees.
A black sky.
Black ground.
But on that very ground is where you stand,
looking before you, the only white tree that seems to exist.

You stand there.
Just looking, afraid to take your eyes off off it.
Hesitant to run away, fearing that when you come back
-of if you can even find your way back-
it will be gone.

Night begins to turn up day
as you continue to linger to this tree.
The sun begins to shine,
giving an enchanting glow
to the beautiful creation in front of your eyes.

You can't help but stay.
And the thought that runs through your mind
is that this tree isn't just a masterpiece of mother nature,
its hope.
liz Sep 2014
How could you love me?
I don't have a favorite color.
I don't have a favorite food.
I don't even like candy.

How could you love me?
I hate the day and loath the night.
I don't prefer death and neither living.
I hate poetry and I write a least one poem a day.

How could you love me?
I hate to love, but need it all the time.
I hate to believe, but every time I close my eyes I'm dreaming.

How could you love me?
liz Sep 2014
Laughs echo down
the halls around you.
Your are seperated from
the happiness.
You have to remind yourself:
I exist.

Everyone around you
is talking.
You are seperated from
their madness.
You have to remind yourself:
I exist.

Lives seem to move on
around you.
You are seperated from
the adventure.
You have to remind yourself:
I exist.

In night and day:
I exist.
In time and history:
I exist.
I have flesh and a heart:
I exist.

As painful as it is to walk, it's the most beautiful thing.
liz Nov 2014
I thought I had you there.
For a fragment of a second I had hope in you.

Yes, the girl who strays in the corner of the room who has trouble believing in the force of God actually put hope in you.
Into something.

I knew dissapointment would be inevitable but it was too soon.

I thought I had you there.
For a sick pathetic moment of my life,
I wasted my time on helping you glue back together the pieces you left broken on the floor.

But I had no idea you would take that glue gun and burn my hands together, locking my fingers in a dismantled mess.

I had no idea you could be this sick.

I had no idea I could fall this quick.
liz Sep 2014
"I miss you though."
Is what you say to me
when I suddenly cross your mind
after all this time.
Time passes without parachutes
guarding these seconds.

Little do they tell you
about this thing called distance,
it's like a game of Telephone.
And I believe
that your last two words got lost in translation.
"I miss you though, not enough."
liz Apr 2016
I found you in the embers
of a burning fire
because I was stupid enough
to follow the trail of smoke
out against a yellow sky,
right into the thunderous wrath of you.

I should've just left you there—
in the trenches of the universe
where nothing is worthy enough of anything;
In the pit of the fallen feathers
picked from a murdered Angel’s gracious wings.

Like the wicked thief you are
you abandoned me
as you tied a splintered rope to my foot,
knotted it into the bottom of the earth,
and flew your way to the top
with the shattered pieces of my heart
that you lost in yours.

Vicious and ****** you were,
though I was trying to hammer you a shield.
Bruised and battered you left me,
though all I gave you was an outlet to the Epicurean Philosophy.

Rugged claws is all that’s left of me
and a silence so loud in it’s wake
I can’t hear myself think.
I haven’t spoken a real word
since you touched me,
So I listen to the rain pour
down in it’s muttering rhythms
at the bottom of the ocean
while the chest beneath
the heart you split open
caves in.
it's deeper than you think
liz Aug 2014
It's not like there was anything I could do.
Crying at their feet and begging for mercy would've left me more wounded then the days and months that had passed.
It's not like she would ever change.
She threw her life away to the countless days sitting in the bathroom with alcohol electrifying her veins,
turning her into the mother that I never used to know.
It's not like he actually tried anymore or understood.
He had me running in a pool of water expecting me to keep my head above the surface because he was too fed up to help me.
It's not like they even noticed.
That I was still a kid.
That as soon as my siblings beside me grew older and wiser,
I was expected to do just the same.
To maintain their level of intelligence and work.
It's not like it mattered that I was 14 when they got tired of raising me.
Of teaching me the ropes.
It's not like I was tired of holding up the weight on my shoulders,
maintaing my first job at 15.
It's not like I was fed up with their constant bickering and nagging at each other.
It's not like I didn't notice that he started looking at other women because she wasn't good enough.
Its not like she was good at hiding her misery behind those eyes that looked shattered and fragmented like pieces of a broken heart.
It's not like she wasn't a mother anymore.
It's like he wasn't a father anymore.
It's not like that at all.
liz Sep 2014
It wasn't a mistake,
pushing you away.
My hands worked for me
As my eyes watched my fingers
Let go.

It wasn't a mistake,
running away.
My mind continued
to use as much force as I could
into my muscles to distance myself from you.

It wasn't a mistake,
the way I felt.
With a heart of broken fiber
And with hands of pressured veins,
I found the will to push you away.

It wasn't a mistake.
liz Jun 2015
The idea of my capabilities differ from yours
Leading to a list of ***** chores.
I could slam my car door shut with my toes
So extensively it would smash the car windows.
I could dig holes in my back yard with my bare hands
To mine the world just to find where my heart stands.
I could grow my nails out to break through the skin over my chest
Just so I could scratch away this disgust inside to give this heart a rest.
I could keep my eyes wide open while I sleep at night
Because the shadows lurk around my throat, closing it tight.
I could do it. I know I can.
But I'll have to wash my hands after I'm done
and see the mess run down the sink one by one.
liz Feb 2015
She doesn't know if anyone notices
That it shows in her face.
It was different then as it is now;
The damage tucked in the angles of her face-
In the shadows, in the light, beneath her eyes...

She could feel it changing
The way her laugh has suddenly become
A mechanism to not make her happy,
But others happy.
To push away the questions that would
Come crawling from concered hearts
From the thunder storm hanging
Above her head.

They aren't concerned for her being,
They're concerned for their curiosity.

Her smile used to reach her eyes,
Now it doesn't even reach her heart.
The path that connected emotions
To features was destroyed in the storm.
Like nature, it's going to take a while to recover.
And even when it does,
It will never be the same.

Just like her.
She won't ever be the same with every passing storm.
Every smile will be struck with lightening at night.
Every laugh will be drowned with the pouring rain

Just like her,
The storm has become her.
liz Oct 2014
I know once I walk away, I'm going to inevitably turn around and wonder where the time went.
And in that exact moment, I'm going to realize that it has been in front of me this whole entire time.
The sad truth is that once I take the first step forward after that realization, I'm going to break apart. Because I will be walking in the wrong direction- like I always have been.
But this day will be different. Because as soon as I take that step forward, there's no going back.
I'll take my seat, turn off my dreams and be like the rest.
Just somebody.
liz Apr 2014
Just Tell Me-
"I will get away with you. I don't care about the lengths i'll have to run; I will make sure that I am with you."
                Just Tell Me-
                "This world is messed up. Everything in it; everything around it. Then I look at you and it all make sense: None of that matters."
                                  Just Tell Me-
                                 "I know you're afraid. I know you have been alone. Well just look up into my eyes. I promise you all of that will go away.
                                                                                               Just Tell Me-
                                                                                "It will be just you and me."
liz Apr 2016
I've been slipping
into my heart,
using these broken nails
to crawl my way out of this dirt
that I buried myself into.

"No," I've promised myself.
"This world-- it's hypnotizing.
It'll **** the soul right out of you.
The hungry skies will feed off of your light
to make the stars shine.
The world might be flat in the way it feels when you hit the floor,
but it will still fold into you
like a lock twists into a cage.

Don't ever forget
to keep dreaming
keep thinking
keep breathing,
for the world will take it from you
and you'll never be able to live again.

If you don't swim you'll drown.
If you close your heart in the way you close your eyes,
you'll never wake up.
The heart never sleeps,
and the longer you keep yourself in the dark,
you'll close your eyes.

*And never wake up.
because the eyes can close so easily
liz Nov 2014
What little they mean when your hands are around me, chocking me.

No stars align
The moon isn't fine
When you say they're beautiful.
liz Oct 2014
Only so little answers
To the millions of questions
That we have running through our minds

I have all the time in the world
But no time to accomplish much of anything

I find that I'm running in circles and I always find myself back to the beginning
liz Sep 2014
Little hands explore the world with fresh eyes.
They don't know language or how to count, but these hands are utterly fascinated.

Little hands are wrapped around her fathers pinky,
being directed around the world.
They don't know what pain or suffering is, but these hands want to feel everything.

Little hands trace the path of a raindrop down the car window.
Webs of the tears from above cry against her absentminded fingers.
They don't know a broken heart or the meaning of forever, but these hands are determined to believe.

Little hands are now veined and strong.
Little hands have been through hell and back.
Little hands pushed the monsters away.

Little hands have a mind of its own.

These little hands aren't so little anymore.
Want to be little again?
liz Feb 2015
When I'm upset,
the world turns gray.
It's this natural force
that I consume
and it's a curse.
This sort of power
ruins things.

But the only comfort
these type people ever need
is a simple acknowledgement of affection.

Put the paper down and
look at me.
Throw that god ****** bottle away and
look at me.
Put the money on the other side of the room, sit up, and
look at me.
Before it's too late.

they would say the wrong things.
Do the wrong things.
Try the wrong things.
It's sad really,
because what all that I need is written in my eyes
and I'm an open book if you just simply ask.

But no one does.

Do put it down, throw it away, sit up, and
Look at me
Before I walk out the back door.

See me for who I am;
all the greatness I've done.
For my accomplishments;
for the pain that I endure
and all I do to push through.

All I need is for you to look at me.

Do put it down, throw it away, sit up, and
Look at me

But it's too late.
Time ticked and went boom.
Night turned to day and I realized
I was wasting my time
trying to make you
Look at me.

But now you can't because...

*...I'm already gone.
liz Jan 2015
It's 12:23 am and my sister comes knocking on my door.
At first I couldn't hear a thing
The fear through her eyes was so loud, it muted the world.
Logic sinked into my brain to listen
And I wish I hadn't.
"Mom's not waking up!" She cries.
And over
And over.

My feet are on the floor, pushing me out of the room.
I'm blinded by the lights-
The sudden wake.
I'm deafened by my fathers shouts,
"Gabe, wake up!"

Within seconds I'm beside him.

Speech has been slipped from me, but he looks into my eyes.
"She's not waking up."

No matter how many times I'm going to hear it tonight
I won't believe it.
"Help me," he says.
And I push him aside.

He shouldn't be here.
He shouldn't see this.

I kneel down to the bed
Her eyes closed
Mouth agape.

She looks dead.
I was convinced she was dead.

Now I'm angry.
Who does she think she is?
I told her to stop,
"Mom, stop. This drinking problem you have needs to stop."
It never did.
She never listened.
Now look what she has done.

I slap her.
Right across the face.
I shout for mom, searching for it in her face.
Looking for the qualities
That make her the one who conceived me.
I find nothing.

And I slap her again.

My sister is in the corner of the room
With my brother,
All older than me.
All crying.
My father is beside me trying to keep his rock but
Even the most innocent plates inevitably reach an earthquake.

My other brother comes running upstairs
Dauntless as he thinks he is.
The ambulance is on its way.

She's leaving.

I slap her again.

Seconds later I'm pushed aside.
Help is here.
Then their in the room-
Touching her
Inserting her with unfathomable things.

Then one man lifts her hand
Right over her face,
As if it were a feather and he lets go.
But feathers are graceful and beautiful
My mothers hand
The one that now has lost the touch to ever gain back comfort on me again, drops like a brick.
A brick full of all her lies and all her pathetic ruthlessness, falls on her face.

They take her out of the room, still unconscious.
That was the last time I ever saw my mother,
Even though she's still alive and with me today.
liz Nov 2013
It's been a long time, hasn't it?
Since you actually let the past
actually sink in on you.
Since you let it come down
to salt streaks down your cheeks.
All you want to do is go back;
back in time.
To when you felt like,

You want to roam the halls of the past.
To see what was left behind.
To see all the broken pieces.
The broken pieces of what could of been.
The broken pieces of your heart.

The doors of reliving barred you in.
You fight and fight,
but it's never good enough.
Because your young and a fool.
The present is all you have,
so make the most if it.

Memory Lane,
is nothing but an old ragged road.
It leads to nowhere but the past.
Don't be the coward that goes back.
You'll find nothing but simply,
liz Sep 2014
It's 12 a.m. and you can't fight it anymore.
The tension that builds up
between your shoulders.
Where your dreams, wants and needs
try to come crawling it's way out of you.
You can feel their nails
tearing at your skin...
Scars and bruises only your eyes can see.
It's a ball of fury waiting to ignite.
Fire shoots up to your head.
Headaches that don't seem to go to sleep.
So your awake in the night,
with your anxieties pounding at the
walls of your skull begging for mercy.
And here you are,
wanting to do so much about it
Yet, you've done so little to even begin to fix it.
liz Sep 2014
I lost my mother a long time ago.
But you see, she is still breathing.
Still here.
But is she alive?

Bottles of wine stack up,
one by one,
on top of broken promises.

Pills are disappearing
but we all know
where they go.

"You call yourself a poet? A writer?" You said to me,
last night after I told you
how I feel.

So the poems I left for you,
I took away.
The book I've been working on,
I took away.

You said it four times.
The first time, I didn't actually believe you did.
The second time, my eyes ran cold.
The third time, I walked out the door.

The forth time, I realized you weren't
my mother.
liz Jan 2015
You wont be able to sleep
Because of me.

It's because of you
Why I haven't been able
To dream.
liz Apr 2017
“It was a struggle of fighting to be who you wanted me to be, and who I actually was. I knew what I wanted, but it wasn’t in the same way that you did. I couldn’t hide my heart, I couldn’t put it away for you. And don’t you dare tell me that you don’t have one, because I’ve seen it. Even if it was just for a flicker of a second— it was there. I won’t accept your initial word, because what you said didn’t add up to what you did to me. You told me you didn’t want anything, but you called me. You told me you didn’t want anything, but you touched me. You told me this and you told me that, but you kissed me and did everything with me and you mean to tell me it was only ever because you were bored?
The next time you invite someone in, as she sleeps beside your tired body, don’t pull her close and tell her to “come here”. Don’t kiss her on the neck as you reach for her hand and have your breath softly hum on her bare shoulder like a sweet wind. Don’t pull the sheets up and dream so peacefully beside her.
Don’t do anything, because she’ll never forget the sounds. The train crosses through the empty town around 2 a.m. every morning, and she will wake up every time. She will see you there and her heart will sink because you sleep so peacefully. Her heart will sink because you say things, but then you do things. And she will become whatever is you want her to be, just so she can be here in this moment again. She will do absolutely whatever it is to breathe you in just one more time.
Even if that means she becomes somebody else completely.
She will do it, and you won’t even notice.”*
liz Sep 2014
This is a message to all the ones
who find themselves alone in
their rooms on a Friday night.

I know downstairs is not the same-
different rooms, different pains.
Believers saying this is a good life.
A good good good good life.

Sister is telling you you're
too young to understand-
that you don't know what you're saying.

Mommy and Daddy are separated
into different rooms and they're telling you:
"Baby, nothing is broken. Wipe away those tears."
Wipe it away. Fade away. Forget it.

They are Oblivion.
From the bottom to the roof,
brick by brick living in
Don't be afraid of the truth. Let the truth be afraid of you.
liz Sep 2014
A million times to say
goodbye in this life,
over and over again.

Empty rooms,
windowless pains
oh, I'm going insane.

I've lost the patience
to believe
when everything
crumbles at my feet.

Even in the night,
there's no end to the fight.
From a song I wrote.
liz Sep 2014
A million pieces
On the floor.
Of you,
Painted in black.

Dark souls.
Colorless eyes.
We are drawn in
In gray
In disguise.

We lost the will
To believe.
When we are
Our own crumbles
At our feet.

Even in the night it's a fight,
This fire is burning me alive
In the streets.
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