Your love is an ocean
and I am drowning.
Saltwater stings my eyes
and burns my throat
as I desperately cry my S.O.S.
You pull me down in waves,
my lungs aching for air.
Who knew it would be you
who has me struggling to breathe?
The water somehow calms me
with its silence.
I find solace in your murky depts.
An introverts daydream
all alone in 145 million square miles
of torrential rain
only to share my final moments with the sea.
I stop fighting
and let go.
For a moment
I may not be breathing.
The pressure against my chest is undeniable.
I open my mouth to breathe
but I only chock on saltwater.
My lungs fill with tears.
I swear I hear a voice,
be it my oxygen suffocated mind
whispering to me.
You break the ominous silence
with seven simple words;
"Some love is to strong to fight"
and with that
I close my eyes
Your love is suicide.
You left me a bruise
the kind you don't realize you have until long after the incident.
A purple tinged skin of a mistake
from pushing too hard and too far
searching for love,
love that would never come.
I cried and begged you for you to want me,
you said you did,
but I saw those messages to her,
and the other girls.
You never wanted me.
You only wanted ***
when I wouldn't give it to you
Left me hanging
from a noose
choking for life.
I screamed for you to come back
I would have given you my all
I was too late.
I realized it
and so did my wrists
as a blade met them
blood ran down my hands
as I left blood soaked fingerprints
you would never see.
I've shredded those letters now
its been over two years
since I promised I would **** myself if you didn't love me.
I took the crumped notebook and rusty razor blades
out to the trash and threw them away
without a second thought
like you threw away my heart.
The bruise has faded now,
the bruise you left me
the purple has faded to a yellow
you may not notice it at first glance
but when I push on it just right
the same deep-throbbing pain
as when I first received it
shoots through my body
I bite my teeth and curse your name
If it wasn't for your big brown eyes
I would have never gotten myself into that mess.
Do you have any idea the pain you caused me?
or were you too blinded by your own scars to see mine?
Sometimes, I believe, pain blinds us all to the point that we don't even realize when we're hurting others the way someone else hurt us.
where I am
you hold my hand
look to the sky
and reveal the secrets of the blue
with bright eyes of
a jubilant smile
like a child
we explore the clouds
floating far above land
or maybe just unaware
of the world below us
but when we're here
nothing else really matters
Tomorrow I will see you
for the first time since you graduated.
Time doesn't feel the same when I'm away from you.
I want our time together to be perfect.
I'm afraid that I will say something ludicrous.
I spend all this time imagining how I will respond to you,
but I seize up when I see you.
If only I had the courage to confess how I feel.
If I wasn't so terrified of my heart.
I could tell you the poems I write,
I could reveal all the things I love about you
however, you may be alarmed
Its unusual to hear someone use their words,
to express affection.
Would I scare you with my passion?
With how many words I can use to describe your eyes;
But I could never tell you I spend my free time
searching the dictionary for words
that remind me of you.
Is it ridiculous that I sit here
imagining what your lips taste like?
I'm sure they taste like a secret I want to hear.
I would love to lean in close
and mold my smile into yours.
Shape, fire and glaze our lips together like modern art.
But my strength is worn thin,
So I will wait for you
to make the first move.
Unless you're just as unnerved as me.
You're a blood stain on a wedding dress and through countless bottles of bleach you still refuse to fade.
I scrub my teeth until my gums bleed, but I can't get rid on the feeling of your tongue in my mouth.
I'm scratching at my arms because I promised I'd never use a razor blade again but your hands were daggers that cut out my arteries and left me bleeding out while I begged you to stich me up.
Your drunken eyes were bloodshot the night you drank so much you vomited blood, I took you to the emergency room, and in your hallucinogenic state you muttered her name, not mine, and I swore I would die that night.
My parents prayed and prayed to a god who turned the Nile into a river of blood that I would leave you, but I always had a hard time leaving a problem unsolved, and the blood that gathered at the surface of my skin in the form of bruises was my problem to solve, not yours.
The broken glass of your whiskey bottle left cuts on the bottom of my feet as I snuck out that December night, and left blood stains in the snow for you to find on Christmas morning.
As I clutch the photo of us all these years later it is my tears which splatter over our faces, not my blood.
My scars are innumerous, and so are the stars, and I would have given both for you to love me.
No amount of blood transfusions could replace what you took from me.
My A negative blood will never work for everyone but it is enough to save the lives of those bleeding out on operating tables with families begging for another day like I begged for you when you would have let me die.
I read in the newspaper today that you were found dead on the scene of some a drunk driving accident, drowning in a pool of your own blood, and I nearly laughed because finally the bloodshed you caused was over.
What could I possibly write
that could describe you fully?
What words could bring justice to the light of your eyes?
You're so complicated
in your thoughts and feelings,
so deep I will never understand
as I peel off
I am shocked to discover
just how human you are
harmonize beautifully together
to create you.
As long as I sit here,
shaping you with my pitiful words
I discover how
incredibly impossible it is.
What words would ever represent you
as well as you do?
You are you,
and I'd love to unveil that.
Around this time of year
when the sun and shorts come out
I remember the past.
Others are looking forward
while I'm looking behind.
in sun soaked classrooms
I look down
at my ankles and wrists
and I awkwardly shuffle to cover the past.
I remember two years ago,
and the depression I never quite recovered from.
I tug on my sleeves to cover the marks
least anyone notice the fading white scars.
I remember the razor blades
and blood soaked sheets
as I pour out my feelings
and body on to the pages.
I remember the tears and anger,
why would a sweet girl from a good family
and nice neighborhood
ever do this to herself?
I remember wanting to tell someone
but never feeling like I could ever trust anyone again.
I remember my hopelessness.
I run my fingers over the crosshatching,
for the vagueness of my memories,
the scars feel so real.
And the past comes alive to me
in these afternoons
when I remember
exactly two years ago.
as a similar situation arises
and for the first time
is a long time
I longed for that ache.
But instead of stiffing through the archives
to find the rusty razor blades,
I close my eyes
and whisper to myself
"You are strong.
And you will wear these scars as a reminder of how strong you are,
and how you survived."
And the past remains the past.