If I Could Write Anger into Poetry

If I could write anger into poetry I'd write about how five months with someone has led me to almost 6 months of insanity

If I could write anger into poetry I would write about how he said he was depressed his sophomore year but I knew "was" wasn't the right tense of the word and I didn't say anything more

If I could write anger into poetry I would write about how ******* him didn't change the way he treated me (not that I ever imagined we'd be here)

If I could write anger into poetry I would write about all the times he swore he wasn't talking to her

If I could write anger into poetry I would write about how I begged him to stay

If I would write anger into poetry I would write about my headache from screaming so loud the night I found out he was talking to her

If I could write anger into poetry I would write about the time they walked by me in the hallway and all of a sudden it all became too real; I was nothing.

If I could write anger into poetry I would write about the pit in my stomach and the tears in my eyes as I watched them wear matching colors at prom

If I could write anger into poetry I would write about watching the girl who called me " the ****** ex" take a snipe of me and send it to him as if I am blind to other teenage girls

If I could write anger into poetry I would write about how I swear I can still smell his cologne in the passenger seat of my car

If I could write anger into poetry I would write about how he broke up with me when all I wanted was him and he didn't break up with her when she cheated on him and how that makes me feel like every atom of my being is nothing

If I could write anger into poetry I would write about how I dreamt of literally trying to strangle an apology out of him and he kept saying "no, no, no"
If I could write anger into poetry I would write about how that doesn't compare to the dreams where he kisses my neck and tells me he still loves me

If I could write anger into poetry I would write about suddenly waking up at 5:00 am because my blood is boiling about the time almost a year ago we were waiting in line for popcorn and he said that his parents wouldn't care if he died and I didn't say anything more

If I could write anger into poetry I would write about how I watched him laugh with his friends in school about how he ripped me apart vein by vein and months later he tries to tell me he is sorry

If I could write anger into poetry I would write about how socially embarrassing it is to confide in the one person who betrayed you

If I could write anger into poetry I would write about how he's gotten worse and there's nothing I can say, nothing I can do. I am meaningless now.

If I could write anger into poetry, I would.

I have always been a morning person
With the way the sun peeked over storage units
and abandoned cars
"Hello!" It says
"I am here! Do not fear the dark!"
So we make our coffee and the artists think
Certain things
We build words and universes within ourselves
And we never get to a book in time to write it down
To scrawl down the formula
For what might have been
morning always reminds me
Of lazy cats stretching in the sun
And watching the dew solidify
On the grass
Outside the window.

Under my blanket
of darkness,
your whispering voice
reached deep into
this tortured soul.

Your resolve,
holding me in love's embrace,
kept me warm.

That tender caress,
offered unconditionally,
slowly drew back
coverings of self-loathing.

A prayer offered up,
amidst tears of anguish,
answered in a love
only you can provide.

You only offered
encouragement.

That is what I needed.

No judgement or rebuke.
You had no
'easy fixes'.

As I lie
in gloomy shadows,
your soft touch
cooled my burning skin.

I fell from a confident perch,
remaining prostrated
beyond the light.

But you...

you became
my strength
my words
that song which lent power
to my weakened mind.

You are my everything.
You gave the desire to stand
on my own two feet.

Thank you.