Here I am
Looking at the edge
About to loose
The only thing
I have left
But the thought
of you
Makes me stop.

This edge will only
Stop the pain
Temporarily
Loving you
Is most definitely
Infinite

© Regan

I wake up
Just to go back to sleep

I eat
Just to eat again

I cry
Just to cry again

I shower
Just to shower again

These patterns,
Don’t make much sense,
If I’m just going to do it again.
I guess it’s just life,
A whole gigantic pattern,
Only to come to an end.

© Regan

You aren’t special
You won’t ever be someone’s “one”
You’re just as ordinary as everyone else,
Who’s foolish enough to think love is good.
It’s just like falling down the stairs,
Having someone brush you off and help you stand, and then pushing you down another.
You’re a silly girl to think love is good.

You aren’t going to rise above others.
You’re gonna keep standing on your own feet.
Until someone pushes you down
Dreams aren’t a reality anymore, you can’t follow them, take a more “realistic” path.
Grow up you silly girl.

Your mommy and daddy aren’t happy,
Working a 40 hour shift just to come home and deal with your problems.
They don’t see each other much anymore,
Reality hit them faster than imagined.
Don’t think true happiness is real silly girl.

You’ll be happy to hear this from me now
Than to realize it yourself in 20 years,
You silly girl.

© Regan

I thought we had something special the world couldn’t understand
I thought you loved my imperfections.
I thought I loved everything you are.

I guess the universe screws things up
Eventually.
I thought when you said you loved me
You meant it.
I thought a relationship consisted on loving each other.
I guess our relationship was one sided.

I did all I could.
It just couldn’t be saved.
I miss you infinitely,
But I cannot befriend you,
For the pain you’ve caused me.

© Regan

Four letters, many meanings.

What is it? I’m not sure.

Is it pain or something good?

Is it an emotion, action, or both?

How do we really know?

How does it make us feel?

Love, a word with many connotations.

But I don’t really know what it is yet.

I love my possessions, I love my family.

I am not quite sure, what it is exactly.

Maybe I’ll have to receive to understand.

© Regan

I wasn’t done.
I couldn’t fix you.
I wasn’t helping you.
I want you still.
I hate that I let myself keep holding onto you.
I wasn’t obsessed with you
But it hurt.
It hurt as bad as a sharp knife
Into clean skin.
I know better,
Than to be hung up over someone,
Someone who hurt me the way they did.
I was foolish to believe something could last,
And it didn’t.
Not even close.
You are my true heartbreak.

© Regan

it is 2 a.m.
everything is dark.
my room is hot
but i shiver when i’m not surrounded by my comforter.
i don’t know why it’s hard to breathe
or hard to move
or why the tears won’t stop.
why do i feel stuck in my room?
why do i crave it when i leave?
why do i want to leave when i’m here?
i just want some air and some reassurance that i’m not losing it.
i just want my arms to stop shaking while my skin is so warm.
i want my pulse to calm down.
i want my mind to stop thinking.
i just want to sleep.

fragile is what i used to call myself.
i wasn’t to be played rough with.
my feelings and emotions
were too fragile for negativity.
the boys would tackle each other,
and i would watch them, not daring to join.
“Regan, you should play!”
“I’m too fragile to tackle.”

now i’ve noticed how tough i actually am.
my heart has been broken.
i’ve been called terrible things.
sometimes i wish i could punch something.
i’m not fragile, i’m strong.

I...am...NOT...fragile.

Cold beer
Bonfires
American flags soaring above
Motorcycle gangs racing on a dark highway
Laughing, drinking, but most importantly, living
letting a summer’s breeze fill their lungs
Cigarette and old alcohol reside in the air
Careless 50’s vibe in a modern era
Bandanas hold back unbrushed curls
Living in a blue-jean America

© Regan

In the End—
it might be good.
I’ll know my past was lived.
I might be happy,
but I could be sad.
Who knows?
Do we give up when we reach the end?
What if we never reached the end—
would progress be existent?
We finish a book
or a test,
and we move on,
because we have more to progress
otherwise.
I guess we may never reach an actual end.
But how would we know if it was
The End?

what turned us from strangers
into lovers?
what made you decide
i was the one for you?
how did this
all work out in the end?
what made you
choose me over her?
why do you trust me
enough to love me?
am i the only one
you can love completely?
how did you
accept my flaws?

why did you choose me?

I've lost my feeling
I’ve lost my rhythm
my poetry feels weak.
I cannot get that connection
to what i used to have.
They were filled with passion
and desire.
My poetry had more emotion,
something you could feel.
The words would flow and paint imagery.
The emotion was raw and real.
I’ve tried so hard to get a feel.
now all i feel is numb.
I thought my poetry was alive
but now it all seems dumb.
I want that emotion
I want that spark.
People would connect with what i wrote,
but now i cannot make a mark.
I wish i had more ideas,
to create the inevitable,
something very creditable.
but all i am is numb.
and my work isn’t what is was.
I’ve lost my emotion
I’ve just lost what i had.

that certain type of sadness
that makes you forget yourself.
sadness controls
every move you make
every thought you think
every tear you shed.
the sadness you can
not seem to shake.
the burning in your mind,
wanting so badly
to be happy and normal.
the icy cold tears
that run down your face
when you least expect it.
as soon as you think you’re
in a better place,
sadness reaches down
into the depths of your soul
and casts itself throughout
your entire body.
grasping your head with
fear and agony.
all the screaming that only occurs
in your mind
creates that certain type of sadness.

loving me is Heaven.. and Hell.
my angelic mask
hides
my demons.
stick with me
long enough
and you may meet them,
my angels
and unfortunately,
my demons.

~•~

they hurt me.

I’ve lost control of my own body.
the sadness and despair that has shown up
has decided to stay.
my words don’t feel like my own
the slashes in my wrists
aren’t what I want
the burning in my soul
is flameless and smoky
I didn’t want this,
i want my control
i want MY control!
it’s my body,
but my brain
lost it’s reigns.
i’m scattered and messy
and i can’t do anything about it
the lack of motivation
to the lack of sleep
turned my normal life
into a living hell.
why has my life
become a hassle,
where is my control?

i can’t control
my feelings
because they’re
far too strong.
i can’t control
my fears
because fear
has overcome me.
i can’t control
my dreams
because they
left.

what have i become?

it’s quite funny
nobody else exists when i’m around you
i don’t look around to see who notices me
i don’t try to spot pretty faces in crowds
the prettiest face is always looking right back at me
holding me, loving me, telling me sweet words.
i’ve been an attention ***** from childhood
fatherless and filling that void was my focus
i ate it up, it fueled me, it gave me purpose.
i’ve forgotten it because of you
the only person i want to see me is you.
i’d tear my eyes out if i’d never see you again
i’ll never want anything more from you
but you.
you fill that void, you’re the missing puzzle piece.
i’ve searched for you my entire life
shoving worthless people in to feel complete.
somehow i stumbled upon you accidentally
the pieces merged together and my eyes opened.
you complete me, fill me, shown me what love is;
i’ve lost that filter of being able to hold the tears
they stream out when i remember the abundance
of love you’ve given me when i needed it most.
life without you was nothing special:
eat, sleep, breathe, cry
—quite pathetic and never ending.
how did i manage to find you?
i’ve begged God for you.
i’ve asked what made me unworthy of love.
why i’ve been given dud after dud.
only pain came from my relationships.
every time you tell me how you feel
how you love me
how you crave me
how you’ll **** me
how you’ll hold me
how you’ll comfort me
how you’ll marry me
i yearn to tell my younger self to be patient.
if only i knew you were out there
i’d stop letting my body be used
i’d stop letting them hit me
i’d stop throwing up to be skinny
i’d stop starving myself
i’d stop cutting my wrists
I’ve cried endless tears waiting.
but the only tears i shed for you
are nothing less than formed from our love.
as much as i wish i could tell you this,
i’d never be able to get the words out.
therefore, i’ll write them,
and hope you love them as much as
i love you.

i am fine.
another lie!
you ask me how i’m doing,
but fine is all i say.
i don’t realize my struggle
i don’t realize my pain
i let these words bury
i let these feelings hide away.
i’ve never been “fine”
my emotions have been stronger.
i’ve cried and felt depressed,
i’ve laughed until i couldn’t breathe,
i’ve fell in love and out of it too.
it’s mysterious how i can brush it off
tell a lie to hide it more,
nobody realizes, nobody notices,
except me.
i can not recognize this pain
until it’s too late.
lying does me no good,
when all i am doing,
is lying to myself.

she’s a dancer
he’s a poet
she’s a lover
he’s a taker
she’s a professional
he’s a beginner
she’s passionate.
he fell in love
with money love.

she brings in thousands
he takes home a few dollars.
he loves a girl who only cares about love.
he cares about the money.
he’s a money lover.
she’s a real lover.
he’s using her
she’s unaware.

victrola
the needle spins
on my records.
the cleanest sound
produced from it.
the sounds
echo throughout
my room.
my jazz music
ringing in my ears.
my tears fall with the beat
it spins
and spins
and spins the sounds.
the music chimes
not even a scratch on the records,
but it plays as if it was the first time.
i love the sounds on my
victrola.

The end goal seems too far,
Without results.
The life you started is too far,
From what you want it to be.
The pain you have is too far,
To be fixed.
The broken heart is too far,
From being loved.
The aloneness is too far,
From losing the feeling.
The tears are too far,
From drying up.
The life you have is too far,
From being meaningful.

who’d lend me their shoulder?
who’d listen to my thoughts?
who’d wipe my tears?
if you weren’t around.
my mind would wander back
into its darkest places.
my wrists would bleed
more than before.
my already-shivering arms
would be colder.
my youth would lose its youth
and i would be older.
my sadness would creep back
until i forget happiness again.
without you, i couldn’t be me,
i’d be back to where i don’t want to be.
the stinging tears
and harmful thoughts
that only exist in my mind,
would become actions and consequences.
i’m glad i have you,
because i wouldn’t just be lonesome,
without you.

Early morning
when I first adjust my eyes
10:00 am on a weekend
feeling fresh and rejuvenated
The crisp morning air,
filtrates through my rough lungs.

Feeling alive as ever
but still tempted to go back to sleep.
My blue curtains
making my whole room feel bright,
as the sun seeps through them.
These Mornings
just make me feel good.

© Regan

I’m sitting in my room.
Art supplies and paper scattered around.
I’m sitting next to my bed on the floor.
I’m writing this poem.
I’m crying.
I have pain that isn’t physical.
I have pain that hurts my brain and head.
At the end of the day, at currently 12:27,
I sit here, completely drained of energy.
My tears are too heavy to help me up,
My floor catches my tears as they fall,
My walls watching me.
My knees are up against my chest,
My arms rapped around myself.
My body is cold,
And I’m shivering.
I’m having a panic attack.
What do I do now?
I don’t want to move.
I can’t force myself up.
I’m stuck,
Weighed down by these extremely heavy tears.

© Regan

I have been through tragic amounts of trauma,
but I still want to protect you from what's happened to me.
I don't talk about it because I know you already know.
I want you to see the joyful parts of me.
How far I've come as a person, rather than a victim.
I know my scars are deep, but you kiss every inch anyways.
You hold my body and touch me without worrying about hurting me
because you know you never could.
I know you will always be there if it started getting the best of me.
The last thing I want for you
is to think I'm any less than I am
And the last thing I want for me
is to think you couldn't understand.