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  Jul 2015 Mona
there's a place at the bottom
of my swimming pool,
at the edge of my bed,
in the backseat of my car
& in the old church parking lot
that hold all my darkness
but they're just places
and when i leave them,
they don't follow me

i've realized that i don't
have to live inside of them

there is chlorine
that doesn't smell
like the summer we spent
wasted on tile floors
all over portland

there are sheets
that don't feel like
the rough skin on the back
of your hand

there are cars
with leather seats
that i don't feel nauseous
peeling my thighs off of

there are parking lots
that aren't vacant
parking lots lit
by street lamps
where no one can hurt me

there's a universe outside
the pain
where boys
with green eyes
are gentle

a universe
where he touches my
shoulder & i don't flinch,
where he whispers
"i like you"
into the still
scranton air
& i believe it

i lived
with my limbs
all tangled up in your hate
for so many years
but i'd cut off
every last one
before i'd wrap
them around you again
Mona Jul 2015
my head can be filled with red clouds
with electric sparks in every corner of my skull
with words floating about my conscience
and sentences twisting around my brain
it causes ripples in my psyche
other times, my head is empty
my skull is incapable of breaking,
my brain unable to acknowledge pain
and my cloudy mind condenses into rain
that trickles down to my lungs
I feel numb and unemotional
I feel tired and unchallenged
until the clouds form again
and words wrap around my nerves

a few words are pulled together
as if by a magnetic, chemical force
and i wonder:
Is it better to feel everything
or nothing at all?
  Jan 2015 Mona
You want me to let you in?
To call off the guards?
To let down the walls?
So passionately,
want me to
stop fighting

so I will.

I will fall violently,
& freely
in love with you.

Just like you want me to.

And you'll lie in my bed all day,
while I try on eight different
dresses for my cousin's wedding

And when you leave,
I'll watch my skin shrink
as I lie
in my bathtub,
day dreaming
about the two small freckles
under the left corner
of your bottom lip

And the first time we argue
& you spend three whole days
angrily ignoring my calls,
I'll chain smoke
until my throat burns

And when you
finally decide
to show up at my door
with a vanilla latte
and apologetic eyes,
I will melt
into your collarbones
and all down your spine

And then we will sit
Indian style
across from each other
on my kitchen floor
& you'll tell me in
detail all your past lovers'
infidelities and unkindnesses
that led you to fight with me

And that will be it

That will be
the exact moment
when I will know,
without a doubt
that I am
completely & entirely

And I will cry into
your neck,
knowing for sure
that from then on
even the most passive,
mention of your name
will make my stomach float up
into my chest
& jolt back down
into my abdomen
like I'm falling
from the highest point
on a roller coaster

And no amount of
midnight drives,
house shows
or therapy
will make it stop
or even distract
my soul from it for
a ******* split second

once I allow myself
to love,
I love until I break &
then I keep on loving
until I'm nothing

And I just don't know
if your conscience
is strong enough
to carry the weight
of my shattered heart

tell me Hazel Eyes,
just how bad
you actually want me
to pick up that phone
  Jan 2015 Mona
I watched my best friend's eyes well up
with the burning words of his ex girlfriend;
I watched her trickle down his cheek bones
& all over his blue t-shirt;
I tried to wipe her away with my finger tips,
But I was too late.

She had stained him,
From head to toe he was drenched in her
And even if I had caught her
Before she even touched his skin,
I don't think I would've been able to keep him clean
Because my hands were ***** too
With the grotesque words
Of my ex boyfriend

So we'll just sit here,
An other year unchanged
A deck of cards
& a bottle of whiskey
In the space between our knee caps;
Staring into each other's pain,
Strewn recklessly over my bedroom floor

We'll just sit here,
Filthy together for an other year
Of scrubbing the wasted passion from our bones
Mona Jan 2015
A beautifully ordered
sequence of words.
A combination of letters,
stringed together into thoughts,
translated into ideas and emotions,
thrown onto paper. A delicate, fragile,
yet unbreakable truth that enters
your mind, and runs
down to your bones.

Books are characters and themes
and mental experiences offered to you when
you are displeased with Earth.
When you would rather be in
a world secured, confined to
a selection of papers brought to you in one piece.
A beautifully binded collection of thoughts
carefully protected by a hard, colourful cover,
with a simple label: A 'title' and 'author',
so you know where you're going, and
exactly who is taking you there.

Flick through the pages,
embark on your journey.
Here: this front cover is your ticket.
Mona Jan 2015
Your eyes,
blue as the sky,
soft as the clouds.
A palette of shades
layered like spiralled
concentric circles.
They overlap
like waves
softy crashing
within the glittery sea.

They draw me into
the warm, comforting water.
They're fun,
and busy
like summers
and colours
and timeless days
where the present
does not acknowledge
the past or the future.

Your eyes,
fun as the sea,
blue as the clear water,
make me feel comfortable,
safe and secure.
As I soak in their freedom,
I feel the rush
of the sea
spreading through
my body,
my heart,
my soul,
my feelings for you.
Your eyes are as
beautiful as the sea.

But your eyes,
deep as the ocean,
dark and dangerous
as its depth,
they pick me apart
and vandalise me.
They scare me,
hurt me,
confuse me,
and disgust me.
I hate being picked apart
by the whirlpools of your eyes.
Stop them from
spinning my emotions
round, and round
and round.
They throw me into
a wave of evil,
plunging me to
my shipwreck of a heart
and watching me
sink, all the way
to my deepest of fears.

The ocean washes over me
and I float into a beautifully
blue sea.
The change of setting
confuses me, because
your eyes continue
to control me still.

I stare into
your eyes,
diving into
the countless shades
of blue, as I realise:

The ocean is much more powerful
than the sea.

— The End —