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Rachel Nov 2017
i'm sorry love
but I can't get up
to play with you today.
I used to have
all this life in me
but it's up and gone away.

come sit on my bedside,
i'll tell you of the times
we used to have,
yes, I miss the days like that,
but the memories still make me glad.

I wish I had known then
that I was running out of time.
when we ran free never fearing that
soon it would no longer
all be just fine.

but there's nothing that you can do
so, please, there's no need to cry.
I can't play with you today, my love,
but tomorrow I will try.
Rachel Oct 2017
crying on my
bathroom floor:

crying in the
parking lot:

swelling in my
spleen and liver:

8 more weeks
spent in bed:

it seems like He is
picking on me,
"ha ha! look at you!
i'm going to give you
the grandest of dreams but
you'll be gone by 32."

i have no doubts
when they say that in heaven
the weather is always

one day I will
go to meet him.

he will not be there.
Rachel Aug 2017
Being alone is nice sometimes,
but it can be very lonely too.
Seeing all the fun that they can have
doing things you can no longer do.

It feels like God is picking on me,
saying "Haha look at you!
I'm going to give you the grandest dreams
but you'll be gone by 32."

I try to talk to the people around
although it seems that they don't understand.
I can't really do all the things I would like,
but i'm trying the best that I can.

I used to find pleasure in the simple things,
like a beer and a bask in the sun.
The era of joy and stars in my eyes
it seems is finally done.

So please reserve your judgements until you
can feel what I feel inside.
Don't tell me how to spend my time
when it's a pain to be alive.

I've been trying to find a way to live
while also struggling to survive.
So ******* until you've died and come back to life
before you could even drive.

And when I decide it's my time to go,
you can bet I won't be sober.
I bought the ticket, I took the ride,
but now Football Season Is Over.
Rachel Mar 2017
how are you supposed to feel
when they tell you,
hey kid,
i’m sorry,
we found the beginnings to that thing
that almost killed your grandmother
and took the life out of your aunt
and is currently killing your uncle
and will probably **** you.

but she smoked her whole life,
I said.
and so did she.
and so did he.
then I remembered that first
time I picked up a cigarette when
I was just 14.

under the bridge,
with some paints,
and a light in my eyes that I
never knew could go away.

“genetic predisposition” says he,
wise man in a white coat.
but he doesn’t understand how
this is just
another hill on a very
windy road.
the one that
put me in the hospital
during my senior year spring break
and is the reason I have to explain
to a boy what Illness is
before he
takes off my shirt.

i’m in the bed under those
blinding florescent lights,
i’m scared and crying.
and very, very alone.

this is not the first time,
and not the last time,
that i
will be here.
It will happen again
and again
and a young, blonde nurse
with big glasses and a brilliant smile
will look at me with
pitty in her eyes
and tell me everything will
be alright.

but it won’t
and that’s okay.

give me a light,
will ya?
  Jul 2016 Rachel
Lucrezia M N
Something bigger than I am,
those shoulders over mine
and faster than I can be,
cannibalizing time,
it's not sad,
I'm not sad...

Someway it's worth one's while
seizing bubbles from reverie
and in between no crime,
starving now and then
I'm not dying,
it's not dying

What comes by nature grows,
poignant embrace to abide by.
To sharpen up a stem to a lilac rose
leaves bewildered but crucially alive
it's just my thought...
I'm just in a thought

But first I am
real and here
on my own to venture onward.
What goes around, comes around... This time it's Love in all its mutual, strange, controversial, harsh, stupid, free and countless ways... And I'm gratefully blessed, as quick as it's been though, that it came around, for it never leaves without letting you grasp somethings unconditionally good.
Rachel Jul 2016
writing with a
cigarette in hand

writing with a
stain on my shirt

writing with a
bruise on my lip

trying to pretend
that your words
never hurt

sleeping with out

dreaming of good

drinking glasses
of malt whiskey

walking through dark
alleys with you
on my mind

I cannot get
past you

no matter how
hard i try

now every hello
i’ve said since you

tastes of your
eyes in that
moment you said
Rachel Apr 2016
Can’t sleep
           not even a wink
                   you could say I’m restless.
No air in my lungs
                       i’m left here gasping
                                               you could say I’m breathless.

The water in my eyes
                               done dried up
                                                     no more time for tears.
After a while I was numb to it all
                                                      so I got no
                                                                ­     hopes or fears.

My heart tore from my hollow chest
                                                       so I ain’t got none
                                                                ­               left for giving.
The good part is that
                                   you can’t die
                                                 if you were never really living.
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