I stared at
You
Staring at
Paintings
On the walls.

"How marvelous"
You remarked.

"Yes"
You really are.

When I was little
I fell off the monkey bars
and scraped my knee
Instead of running off to the swings
I got back up there
and I held on to each rung
so tightly
I had blisters in my palms
but when I got to the end I felt breathless
and maybe that's where it started.

When I began driving
I would grasp the wheel
so tightly
as if the more pressure I applied,
the better I could steer.
I always got perfect scores
on my driving tests
but my fingers ached
when I finally had it in park.

I've been clinging
to the remnants of a friendship
that I tripped into
and I didn't try to get back up
or strive for perfection
because I liked it the way it was
and I keep smiling while you walk away
but I can't wave
Because you broke my wrist
when you pulled away
but I don't think
that's all that's
Broken.

I came face to face with God
His breath stunk with alcohol
He just kept staring at his hands
And apologizing.
Volcanoes erupted
Every time he cleared his throat.
I didn't ask
Why
I just stared.
He never met my eye
And that's when
I knew
There are
mountains
Even He can't move.

The walls of your childhood home
used to hold their breath when you got upset.
I would pretend I didn't notice the holes
in the closet door and you would pretend
they didn't mirror the holes in your chest.
You never told me about your father, but
when you were drunk you'd mention your old man
and I could see all those
miles of running in your eyes.
I saw a picture in your mom's living room
of a man with the same jawline as you.
Always clenched,
always tense,
always ready to leave at a moments notice.
You said I made you softer.
I didn't know if that was a compliment
with the amount of venom you spat it out with.
You felt you were above vulnerability
but I remember
walking to your house in the rain
to shoo away your insecurites.
The door was unlocked
but you never really let me inside.
You didn't speak to me
for three days after it burned down.
When you finally did show up
at my doorstep you said
you were ready to come home.
I was ready to keep you warm in the winter
but I had forgotten
about your fists in the drywall
and the way you slammed doors
until the front window shattered.

You made me feel like such a **** child and every attempt I made to hold your hand, you shook off and ignored until it was convenient for you.

Everything was so infantile to you. You had already reached goals I set for myself and you were bored. "Small" was synonymous with my dreams in your book.

Maybe I was naive, but you're rigid attitude towards me has taught me how to shed those jejune fantasies and keep everyone I meet at arms length.

I see no point in these frivolous feelings that used to steer me into shipwrecks. I'm too busy drinking bleach to **** these butterflies to answer your calls.

I will not be my parents.


For every negative comment they exchange,
I will have something positive to say.
For every door that slams,
I will hold one open.

I will not let myself bring unhappiness to the table, then wonder why supper is so bitter.

Windows so thin, the ice outside is in your veins. I saw it in the way you wouldn't look at me. I recognized it in the answer you gave when you refused to speak to me. You used to say they can't ignore you if you don't give them anything to ignore.

I am still shaking from the last time I tried to warm you up. I wasn't prepared for your frigid stares, I didn't know I could feel so distant from someone I grew so close to. You felt like home until one day I found all the doors locked and realized I never recieved a key.

Clouds so thick, you forgot the sun could shine. Even if it did you would miss it, still hiding from reality in your bed and in your head. You thought you were just sleeping in on the anxiety but I haven't seen you in weeks. You are a stranger to even yourself these days.

Maybe you were right. Maybe you called it when you said I was scared of moving forward. Maybe that's why I still put off buying that **** car. Because I know if I do, I'll find myself packing a bag and running from all the things that used to hold me to this place. I have no reason to stay put.