Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
She's remembering the good times//When love was all they ever needed//She's remembering walking away from it all//Saying "I can't stick around to watch it fall down"//I'm just wishing I'd done the same//'Stead of holding on till my hands were bleeding//Today marks the day I let go of the tattered and stained rope//Where I say " I'm sorry for not seeing what was happening to us"//And I am, I promise//I am sorry for what happened//I am grateful for the hard lesson it taught me//Thank you for all you showed me//I will carry it with me as a reminder that I have a second chance for making the right choice when love gets tangled and torn//
the past few days, i've been drowning in my head.
hoping and praying that i'm not burying another family member.
i've been going through the motions, but it's not registering quite yet.
i smile and laugh, but i can't feel any of it yet.
is this what giving up feels like?
people ask me if i'm ok.
i feel like i'm underwater, but unable to try to reach for the shore.
been stumbling over words and forgetting what i'm doing.
grief is complex and i don't know quite what to do.
And I don't talk about you anymore. I stopped hearing you in my head.
And the conversations we used to have, I won't ever forget them. But I don't see you anymore. I think a part of me finally let you go. Swear I could see the light as your job was done and the stars called you back to them. Swear that I could see you in the stage lights as I danced across the stage last night. And I know you'll be with me every step of the way for the rest of my life.
Rest in Peace Myles
All my life I've always thought of happiness as a destination.
Most are familiar with the old adage "oh someday I'll be happy."
I myself have been guilty of saying the same thing when I've been sad.

One thing I've learned about getting over heartache and sad moments is to not dwell on the moment itself and to let yourself be sad and not force yourself to move on right away.

Happiness is not a destination; rather, it's a mood and not exactly a feeling or an emotion.

I encourage all of you to rethink the idea and concept of being happy.

Changing my own mindset around this entire concept shifted my perspective on moving forward after the loss of a loved one or intense heartbreak.
Let me know how you move on in sad time! I'd love to know people's strategies and coping mechanisms
I've never really thought about what it would be like to be apart from someone you loved.

To have the distance between you be like a literal wall separating the both of you.

You kept my demons from tearing me in half, even if it meant staying up late to help calm me down.

It was never about falling out of love; no, falling out of love wasn't the case for us.

We had the love thing down, but in the end, the line got blurred and we couldn't seem to get it right.

And sleeping alone, that will take time on both sides.

And we'll come out on the other side, saying that we got through it just fine.
I still see you everywhere I go. Your voice still sounds in my head. I can't help but make my decisions based on what you might say or think if you were here. Can't help but think that everything I do is because my inspiration was you. I can't help but feel as if who I've become and who I am is from the strength and support and love you've showed and given me.

You know, I never stopped believing in you. I never, for a minute, stopped thinking and believing that you'd be the one who'd make the world a better place.

I've been on my knees, praying that I stumble upon the opportunity to tell you I'm sorry and to say all that I need to say.

Love is complicated and messy. I wish it were simple and you could fall out of love as easily as you fell in love with someone. I wish I could move on and give my all to someone else. I'd be lying if I said I gave my all to the other guy.

God knows I'm still in love with you.

Heaven help me, because I know I'll spend my life in love with the guy who'll never love me again.

Heaven help me because I'm in love with a guy who'll never be mine again.

Heaven help me.
Her
Her
I feel
     like I am floating on sunshine.
Her.
      she's all I think about.
Me.
       holding her hand.
Eyes.
       hazel and full of sparkles and love.
Heart.
        beating fast in my chest.
Butterflies.
         i feel them in my stomach and in my feet.
Is this?
          is love supposed to feel like this?
She.
          is all i ever think about.
Love.
           i wonder if she feels the way i do.
#love #girlfriend #happiness
She lived near her home in the outskirts of the country. Blueberry and apple trees grew in her yard. Every afternoon was spent with just the two of them. Sunshine or rain, they didn't care. And the little girl grew up and she never failed to spend time with her. Her name was Joy and the little girl loved her greatly. Sometimes, life got ahead of the girl and she forgot to tell Joy about her day. But she made up for it on other days.
Little did she know that their days were numbered. Joy was sick, very sick. She told that girl, that young woman, she was dying and her time was almost up. The girl didn't quite understand and started crying. But she kept her head up and smiled anyways.
And one day, as she scanned faces for her, she stumbled upon the news: Joy was gone. Gone were the days of wise words and laughter and smiles and warm hugs. But she tried to keep her head up and did her best to smile despite the tears on her face.

Months go by and soon she found it was easier to laugh and smile. And she knew then that she was going to be okay.
True story. It's been almost a year since she passed away due to cancer.
fingertips stumbling over worn pages.

i love you's lost in the wind.

just wait for the sun.

she'll come warm you up love
Because two years ago, we were in love with each other and the idea of love. Because it was forever and always. Because it was a promise we made to the other. Because we thought it would be unbreakable. Because two years ago, I knew it was real. And now, I wish I could do it all over because I miss all of that. Here we are, different places and different people. Because we walked away from the other. Because it wasn't what we thought it would be. Because I miss you. Because I wish I could take back all the stupid things I said. Because I don't even know how to say hello to you anymore. Because the silence and distance is tearing me apart. Because I wish you'd say hello back to me. Because my world is shattering. Because..I can't do this anymore. Because my heart won't let go of you. Because I need you to tell me that it's going to be okay. Because I'm tired of holding onto my end of the rope. Because I'm just another face to you.
Fast heartbeat and red stained cheeks.
Butterflies twisting and pooling in the stomach.
The wanting and the need to have just one more.
One more kiss;one more hug; one more feeling of his skin on mine.
He turns my blood to fire and renders me speechless.
I can't get enough of him, and it drives me crazy.
He's on my mind all the time, even when I'm laying in bed.
What is this feeling?
It's foreign to me, yet familiar at the same time.
It's alluring to me, leaves me gasping for air at times.
But I got the guy and I ain't letting him go.
spent my life in a small oregon town.
21 years here and a change is gonna be made.
packing up the home I’ve made here.
memories put in boxes and suitcases.
guess you and I weren’t made for each other.
and this child of mine will never know you.
and I’ll be in Indiana in a handful of weeks.
saying goodbye ain’t easy, but hey you’ll be fine without me.
I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t miss you.
but it’s a lie if I said I wasn’t ready to move.
all I’ve ever wanted was to get out of here.
make something of myself somewhere else.
She'll go back to the trees.
Back to where she felt the safest.
She'll give everything to keep living .
But this time, she's not giving anything because she's not getting what she deserves.
And with that, she smashed through the wall that she put up to protect her from something that she didn't need protection from: herself.
I heard you took her to our favorite spot for your first date.
Heard that you told her that she was the prettiest girl in town.
But doesn't she know that he's already given those words to me?
I know that you're in deep and you can't turn back now.
Know that we can't do anything about what's already happening way too fast.
I mean, I went looking for a distraction and faster than I could blink, my hearts lying to me saying it's love.
And you, she looks so good with you.
And we, we shouldn't, we can't, we could never be those two.
Those inseparable beings, crazy in love with each other.
But everybody knows we'll end up with each other in the end.
I know. We ain’t that close anymore and I shouldn’t feel this way. But **** if old feelings arise at the thought that other people get to have your time and attention and I ain't part of that crowd. And **** if I don’t feel envious of who wakes up in bed with you. I know. There’s always gonna be someone else in the place of me. You’ve replaced me with someone else, and I don’t get to react the way I want to. Jealousy. Yeah. Ya heard me right. I’m **** jealous that I don’t get to lie next to you and feel at home. But I don’t get to be jealous. You ain’t my guy anymore and I’m not your girl. You and I are two separate pieces of a puzzle that I hope one day fits together again. But it's no surprise that the green eyed monster wakes again inside of me and messes with me and my heart a little.
I wish I could say that I'm overjoyed that you talked to me again, but I know that we can't ever talk again. There's no way that this will ever leave us in one piece. I'm just gonna end up hurting you again. I can't take that chance. It's better this way, I promise. You're better off with me not in your life. So please take care of yourself. I wish you all the best.
You've been gone for three weeks. Not that I've been counting or anything. "It's not a big deal", you say. As if me losing sleep over you is practically nothing. And for ***** sake, you can't tell me not to worry. You're too important to me. So don't ******* tell me to not worry. Three weeks? You could've called me. I know you're not doing well. But we tell each other everything. Or at least, we used to. I told you I was about to commit suicide and you helped me come out of the hole I was in. You shut me out. You've never done that before. If that ain't a red flag, then I don't know what is. So please. Don't disappear on me like that again. I can't go through that again. I love you too much to let this eat at you. Let me in. Let me be there for you. It's my turn to help you out of the hole you've been hiding in.
Dear four year old self,

You were just a kid. You were never a lost cause. It wasn’t your job to protect yourself from unkind people. That was your parent’s job, and they did a **** poor job of it. Nobody expected you to take care of yourself when you were left alone for nights on end. You were right in hiding from raised voices and unkind hands. Shame on those who saw what was happening and didn’t step in to lend a helping hand. It is not your fault. It was never your fault.

I encourage you to not dwell on the physical, mental or emotional trauma and scars left in the wakes of your childhood. While it may seem easier and quicker to convince yourself that it was all a bad dream, I promise you that thinking like that will only slow down the healing process. In order to heal, move on and forgive yourself, you have to acknowledge that what happened was real and then you have to let it go.

You will have setbacks. You will fall down and bruise yourself while getting up, but I promise you that you’ll be okay. You will get stronger every day. You will get depressed and you’ll make the several attempts to end your life. You will get your heart broken and you will heal from that. You will find that marijuana does not hold the answers to the questions you’ve been so desperately craving.

love,
S
possible part one of a series of letters i write to myself
The trees miss you, whispered the breeze.

The stars wait for you, promises the moon.

The earth loves you, stated the dirt.

And we'll never stop looking till you are found.
Seems like all we do is fight.
And at night I wonder.
I wonder what love is like.

I guess. This doesn't feel right.
Not for either one of us.
And I wonder sometimes.

If everything is a fight. Then. What the hell are we fighting for. If not love. Then what do you want from me.

I can't be perfect for you.
I'm not someone for you to fix. I am not broken.

I'm tired of crying myself to sleep. Tired of waking in a bed that don't feel the same. And maybe this is all my fault.

Maybe I am to blame.

Blame it on love.
Fingers entwined, yours fit well with mine.
Two bodies in bed, mine fits well with yours.
I could never say that this is a mistake.
But at night while you sleep, I second guess my choices.
And while you sleep with an arm around me, I'm as complete as could be.
Pick it up, pick it all up.
And start again.
You've got a second chance,
you could go home.
Escape it all.
It's just irrelevant.

It's just medicine.
It's just medicine.

You could still be,
what you want to,
What you said you were,
when I met you.

You've got a warm heart,
you've got a beautiful brain.
But it's disintegrating,
from all the medicine.
from all the medicine.
from all the medicine.
Medicine.

You could still be,
what you want to be,
What you said you were,
when you met me.

You could still be,
what you want to.
What you said you were,
when I met you.
when you met me.
when I met you.
"Medicine" by Daughter
It spoke to me and reminded me of myself when I was recovering from a dark time in my life a couple years ago.
There's a boy who lives on the outskirts of the city.
He grew up playing guitar, drums and whatever he could get his hands on.
And all he wants is to be a better version of himself, but he don't know where to start.
What he'd **** to stop leaving a trail of pain behind him.
There's a girl who lives in the heart of the city.
She grew up worshipping Prince and Michael Jackson and rock and roll.
And all she wants is for her heart to stop messing with her mind, trying to make her care for someone who don't want her anymore.
What she'd **** to stop going back again and again for more.
MeToo

If all the people who have been sexually harassed or assaulted wrote "me too" as their status, we might give people a sense of the magnitude of the problem.
i love you. three words that u should. never tell me because i don't want it.
my head. darling my head is chaotic.
are you sure. you want me still?
even though. i can't control emotions?

i've tried to figure it out many times.
wracked my head for a simple answer.

why would. you want this mess?
i'm nothing special honey.

i'm wild and unpredictable. messy.
i can't even get a grip on myself.
but. for so long i've been trying.
fighting. for the chance to love.
to love you the way u deserve it.

please. don't walk away from me now.
please. take my hand. let me in again.

let me. run my hands down your back.
let me. trace patterns on your skin.
goodness knows. i've been trying hard.

let me show you something new.

a new side. of me and you.
She dared to dream; starlight in her eyes.
Moonlight in her hair; freedom on her tongue.
She chose to dance; on the world’s edge.
Against society’s rules; rebel for the cause.

Dancing through the night; moonshine’s all gone.
Freedom’s disappearing; yet she dances on.
Oh, there she goes; spinning through the air.
A whirlwind of night and day; a mirroring of the elements.
I've never felt so much anger before towards anyone.
Have you ever looked someone in the eye and have them tell you that you should've kept the child that was planted in you by a stranger who drugged and ****** you?
Have you wiped the tears of a woman in despair because she was ***** and told she wasn't allowed to get an abortion?
Have you curled up in a ball, trying to figure out who to tell about your personal experience of ****** assault and ****?
Tell me, person who says abortion is a sin and that it is relative to the holocaust, will my ****** support me?
Will my ****** pay for doctors visits?
Will my ****** pay the medicals bills for giving birth?
Will my ****** pay child support?
**** no and don't tell me that I should always save the child.
Excuse me if I don't want to carry my ******'s child inside of me.
My body. My choice.
MY BODY. MY CHOICE.
I set the world on fire, just to watch you put it out.  
You touched my cheek, and said I was so good and worth everything and more in the world.
I burned my bridges, and you crossed them before I burned them all.
You wiped my tears and said you loved me.
But who would love this broken and healing girl?
You didn't care how many demons hid in my closet; you wanted me anyways.
Every wall I put up, you knocked it down without a second thought.
Love. I'm calling this love. My love. I'm calling this love.
My love. I'll call you my love.
My love. My...love.
I'm not sorry that you're not around anymore.
I've stopped apologizing for your decisions.
I've stopped feeling guilty for not calling you back.
Most days, I wonder if you're just calling after finishing the bottle.
Maybe you're trying to make up for lost time.
You didn't lose time-you forfeited time with me due to your drug and alcohol infused lifestyle.
You gave it up after the fourth weekend that you left me in an apartment alone, with nobody to watch over me.
You left your child all alone for three days straight.
Then you came home smelling of alcohol and god knows what else.
So I'm done carrying your mistakes on my shoulders.
I'm tired of people making me out to be " my mother's daughter".
Well maybe I wish that I wasn't your daughter.
Sure ***** sometimes.
And next time, don't call my work when you're trying to get to me. Send me an email and I'll get back to you the next time I check it.
You proved me right once again.
Guess I ain't surprised anymore by your actions.
Then again, you've been in and out, yes and no, for so long.
****, I'd be rich if I had a dollar for every time I swore I was done and a twenty for when I was right about ya after all.
So do what you want. You've always done that anyways.
Yeah, I'd be rich if I had a dime for all the times you made my heart feel cheap, and I'd be sitting on a **** ton of dimes if that were the case.
Sometimes I get an odd feeling, the kind that you're not sure of.
And sometimes, the words you say create that odd feeling inside of me.
I do my best to shove it where the sun don't shine and it comes right back.

*******. There. I said it.

******* for ******* with my heart and my whole **** existence.
I've said a million times that I'm happy you and her are together.
I meant every word every single time and wouldn't take it back.

And maybe you didn't mean to cause me pain, but it still happened.
Maybe you didn't mean for your words to change my life, but they did.
How could you have known? it's not like we ever talked about this.

It was staring us in the face, love, and we were unable to see it clearly.
It's not your fault, and it's not mine either.
We didn't give ourselves the chance or time to sort it all out together.
And that's just okay; I promise you it's all okay.
So much has happened lately yet I've no inspiration whatsoever to write anything about it.
I know y'all were hoping I'd write something worth your time, but y'all outta luck on that front.
So, keep y'all's heads up and keep smiling and laughing.
I'm hoping to come back later with something worth reading.
You burned me; I burned you..yeah it's all true.
I said I didn't love you the same way anymore.
You told me to grow up and act like an adult.
I'm not here to fight with you or drag your rep through the mud.
I'm just here to clear the air once again.

We were falling in love faster than I thought possible.
I was crazy about you and you were crazy about me.
Soon a month passed by, then six and then a year and before we knew it, a year and a half had flown by.

But not everything good lasts forever.

We were just two people who thought we could make it forever.
And oh how I wish that were true.
But you can't make your heart feel something it don't believe.

This is the last time I tell this story.
The last time I think about all that happened; the good, bad and the crazy.
I'm leaving it here, on the threshold of no man's land.
Yeah this is the last time that I write about how I wish it would've lasted.
I lay awake for yet another night;
your tiny feet kicking around, looking for more room.
it’s not uncommon for me to wonder how we got here; two pink lines and a heartbeat.
as I still my hand over my ever growing belly, you eagerly meet mine with your steady growing ones.
and despite the aches and pains of contractions, I lightly push against you, anxious to feel you kick me in return.
and even though some days I can’t move through the pain, I love you more each day.
you’ll never know how excited I am to see you.
sweet girl, oh you are something else; someone bound to move mountains and change the world.
For you, my sweet child, are made for something far bigger and better than I ever was.
I guess today I'm feeling a little nostalgic.
I can't help but think that it would be better if you were here right now with me.
I mean, I probably ruined any hope and chance of being next to you in the same room.
But. I'd take anything to calm my racing heart and steady my breathing.
Hell, it wouldn't take much for anyone to see that my heart is torn between two people.
Guess you could say that I'm only into one person and in love with the other.
Only difference is one will never love me back.
And nothing ever happens if you stay in your room
Nothing ever happens if you leave the party too soon
Never be a winner if you're not in the game
And nothing ever happens if you always play it safe
Make a little space and get out of your own

Oh, get out of your own way
Get out of your own way
Oh, get out of your own way
Get out of your own way
Quoted from one of my favorite music artists
running a finger down the spine of an old book
worn pages filled with stories and adventures
certain parts bookmarked with dog eared pages

a letter written with love
a postcard from a relative
keepsakes tucked in the back of the book

lines and paragraphs illustrated in detail
cathedrals created by phrases and carefully crafted words
life brought to reality with commas, periods and question marks

love once made this tome come alive
imagination kept it breathing and evolving
carelessness and ignorance cut off its airways and organisms

dust coats the brittle spine
mould suffocates its body and soul
Last we talked, you got in my face saying I was the reason we didn't work out.
That was three years ago, or have you since forgotten?

I had almost forgot you still existed in this world.
And hey, why do you care so much all of a sudden?

What do you care if he and I start something between us?
You're just mad that I wouldn't have *** with you.

Since when is it your place to tell him to "tread lightly" with me?
When did you decide that it was your place to say anything about this?

It's not.
It's not your place to get in my business, our business.

So stay out of it.
Be an adult.

Leave your problems with ME out of our private relationship.
If you have such a big issue with me, take it up privately with ME.
I've never really given much thought to how one would process a close one's death, and really, there's no specific way to.
There's no "Processing Death: 101" book that you can order on Amazon.
And there's no way to stop your tears from falling.
People tell you to do your best to not dwell on it, but at the same time, you should not pretend you're not sad.
Oh how I wish I could just find the fastest way to acceptance, cause this numb style of grief ain't my thing.
Give me a magic wand to speed up the healing.
Hell, give me a ******* spell, potion, anything to get her back.
I'd give anything to see her smile, her her laugh and see her once more.
Please. I'll do anything. Just bring my friend back to the land of the living.
But there ain't no wand to bring back the dead.
And here I am once again, pouring the tangled and flawed mess I am onto your shoulders.

Take my tears, I don't want them anymore.

Take my scattered thoughts and make something beautiful out of them.

Take my tired eyes, please make them shine again.

I can't stand, can I lean on you?
Clench and unclench my hands.

Breath in and out. In and out.

Loosen the tension in my shoulders.

Push back against the raw emotions threatening to burst from my chest.

Wipe the tears from my eyes and slowly exhale.

Not today. Not today. Not today.

Repeat over and over again.
Everybody wants a voice so they can be heard.
Out in the crowd, there's a kid who just wants their parents to listen.
Everybody wants to be known as their own individual being.
Out in the crowd, there's a kid who wants to be validated by their family.
Everybody wants to be told that they matter to someone.
Out in the crowd, there's a kid who just wants someone to love them.
Everybody wants someone to tell them that they are worth living for.
Out in the crowd, there's a kid who just wants to be why someone's alive.
Everybody wants someone to not forget them after they die.
Out in the crowd, there's a kid who just wants to be remembered and not forgotten or left behind.
And I can't stay here anymore.
I can't hold your hand; it's already slipped out of mine.
Heaven knows I tried to make it work.
But I can't make my heart say something it don't believe.
I wish I was who you wanted.
But the truth ain't something you can just erase.
Hello, hello
Anybody out there? Cause I don't hear a sound
Alone, alone
I don't really know where the world is but I miss it now

I'm out on the edge and I'm screaming my name
Like a fool at the top of my lungs
Sometimes when I close my eyes I pretend I'm alright
But it's never enough

Cause my echo, echo
Is the only voice coming back
Shadow, shadow
Is the only friend that I have

Listen, listen
I would take a whisper if that's all you had to give
You could come and save me and
try to chase the crazy right out of my head

I'm out on the edge and I'm screaming my name
Like a fool at the top of my lungs
Sometimes when I close my eyes I pretend I'm alright
But it's never enough

Cause my echo, echo
Is the only voice coming back
Shadow, shadow
Is the only friend that I have

I don't wanna be an island
I just wanna feel alive and
Get to see your face again

I don't wanna be an island
I just wanna feel alive and
i don’t wanna be an island
i just wanna feel alive and
get to see your face again.

But 'til then
Just my echo, my shadow
You're my only friend and I'm...i’m, oh i’m

I'm out on the edge and I'm screaming my name
Like a fool at the top of my lungs
Sometimes when I close my eyes I pretend I'm alright
But it's never enough.
hello, hello? Is anyone out there? ‘cos i don’t hear a sound…

I'm out on the edge and I'm screaming my name
Like a fool at the top of my lungs
Sometimes when I close my eyes I pretend I'm alright
But it's never enough.
hello, hello? Is anyone out there? ‘cos i don’t hear a sound…
and here we are, pushing each other once more.
words spilling out, I told you to change your tune. swore a promise to myself, I’d leave the next time you hurt me. and you, telling me you’ll never do it again. careless with my heart, what was I supposed to do next? you stood on my heart, telling me I should put my faith in you, not him. honey, I’m not the girl of your dreams. the minute I told you I was leaving, you said you’d marry me if I’d just put my bags down and stay with you. told you a hundred times that I’m not gonna be a stay at home gal. and my bags are packed and I leave in august. Bout five states away and a three hour time difference. not sure I care what you think anymore since you’ve been talking to three different girls this whole time. so forgive me if the taste of you makes me sick. forgive me if this time, I’m done.
it’s a year of firsts without you here. thanksgiving is coming up and you’re. not here.
fall and winter don’t feel. good to enjoy without you. and there’s a hole. deep inside that I’ve tried and tried to fill. but there’s nothing in this world. to fill the hole you left. stared the bottle down. cursed this life a hundred times. I’m quick to anger. quick to run when things get hard. **** good at hiding my pain under something else. christmas isn’t gonna be the same. you should be here. hold a spot at the table just. for you and your kindness. don’t want to. start a new year without you. don’t want to start. a new year without you. all the way across. the country far away. from you and the place I called home. grief is. complicated and messy and circular. I wish. I had gone to your funeral. If not to be. with family. but to say goodbye to you. goodbye to you. words I’ll never be ready to say. you were mine. my world. my north star. the flame that kept my life candle burning. love you more. love you most. miss you till. I see you again.
it's a relief to be with you.
it's just like breathing in and out.
so natural that i don't have to think twice.
I'd choose you over everything else.

the last time i did this, i was trapped.
i couldn't breathe, couldn't think.
i drank and swallowed pills instead.
i thought dying was the only way i could free myself.

you lead in this dance, but i trust you to catch me if i fall.
i'm not scared of you.
i'll give you all i have and more.
I: Introduction—A History Lesson
The word ******* was derived from the Sanskrit
svastika,
meaning good fortune,
or well being.
The shape is a monogram,
the interlacing of two Brahmi words,
a hooked cross which, over 5,000 years ago,
represented the rays of the sun,
the four directions of our natural compass,
and the four elements of our world.
Earth, wind, fire and water,
the symbol was balanced,
sitting firmly on its base
like a poised animal
on its haunches.
In other interpretations,
the symbol was a sacred text
explaining, “here is how the sun moves across the sky.”
A map of the heavens,
a lesson in astronomy.
The *******, when standing on its base,
is still sacred today
in many religions.
It is
the Buddha’s footsteps,
the seventh saint in Jainism,
and the four possible places of rebirth
in animal and plant world,
hell, earth and the spirit world.
In the 1870s the ******* was changed forever.
An archaeologist engrossed in discoveries
from ancient Troy and Mycenae,
Heinrich Schliemann,
found the symbol likeable
and claimed it,
because as a man he had the power to define.
He designated it
the symbol of his people—the Aryans—
and soon this is what it became.
By 1907 the ******* was turned at an angle
physically
becoming a hooked cross precariously balancing
on its side.
Its meaning, however, was turned upside down.
The cult of Aryan supremacy
claimed it,
and finally ****** adopted the
bedraggled image
as the symbol of the **** party
marking the beginning of its legacy
as an image of hate,
a harbinger of genocide,
and unthinkable atrocity.
In the course of twenty five years,
under the direction of ****** and Himmler
and Heydrich and Daluege
and Jeckeln and Prutzmann
and Eichmann and Mengele
and countless other men with vacant expressions
and the ability to spell death with pointed fingers
the ******* came to mean loss
of integrity, of citizenship, of basic rights,
of personal safety, of property,
of an untarnished image of humanity
of hope.
Under the *******
unraveled a calm, coordinated,
and systematic extermination
of 6 million Jews
200,000 gypsies
70,000 handicaps
and unknown numbers
of people of color,
political prisoners,
homosexuals
and deportees.
Under the *******,
there were gas chambers
and the burning of children’s bodies.
There were prison-like ghettos,
and there was no humanity.
Part II: A lesson in Linguistics
First, language is meaningful only
because of shared understanding.
Words mean nothing,
symbols are vacuous
unless we share recognition
of the things that they signify.
All language is arbitrary
if we cannot agree on what object,
or emotion or event in history
are called forth by the words that we say.
Second, to be able to change meaning, you must have power
and you must have time.
Trust me,
if I could rewrite the meaning of every blood-soaked word
I would.
I would scrub them clean of their histories.
I’d redefine them,
make them useful,
maybe even kind.
But I can’t, and neither can you.
At least not alone
and not on command.
Because I’m sorry to say
that that’s not how language works.
I’m sorry to say
that a symbol made synonymous with hate
cannot be used innocently,
cannot only mean what it meant before ******
and Himmler
and Heydrich and Daluege
and Jeckeln and Prutzmann
and Eichmann and Mengele.
Even if you claim to redefine it,
even if you claim to only use it for what it once was
even if once it was beautiful,
like the stalwart path of the sun,
the ******* has innocent blood on its hooks
and it eyes us sideways like a crooked lamppost
burdened with memories we cannot dismiss.
We remember.
As a society, we remember,
because pain is a finicky creature
that will not be reasoned with,
or re-defined out of existence.
We cannot use the ******* without remembering the pain
how it was ironed onto the starched coats
and painted on the national flags
of those who murdered
6 Millions Jewish men, women and children,
200,000 gypsies
70,000 handicaps
and unknown numbers
of people of color,
political prisoners,
homosexuals
and deportees.
Even if you say so.
Even if you claim to only use it for good.
We remember,
we remember.
Part Three: A Story
In elementary school my Hebrew teacher was Mrs. Wygodski.
When I was ten she seemed ancient.
I remember her shaky hands, but the steadiness of her voice.
Most of all I remember the numbers on her forearm
from when the Nazis decided she was no longer a girl,
but a numerical value.
I remember her telling us about the concentration camps
when they shaved her tiny girlish head
and gave her *****, ill-fitting clothes,
when they took her arm and erased her
like a message in the sand,
and she became a number.
In elementary school someone wanted to play a joke
so they scrawled a *******
on its side
in large black ink on the white board of class.
The symbol was the first thing you saw
when you entered the room.
I remember
when she came in she was smiling
as usual
her grey hair down, her kind, open face,
a miracle of a woman,
to withstand the darkest night and still smile.
I remember that Mrs. Wygodski said it is important to forgive
but I could never understand how she forgave the Nazis.
She would look at us and say
“hate is the darkest tunnel,
and harder to climb out of
than forgiveness is to bestow.”
The day she walked into the room with the *******
looming large on the white board
I will never forget the look on her face.
As the symbol spoke to her directly
it unearthed everything she spent years flattening down,
memories she sifted through for decades with trembling fingers,
images she shelved in the recesses of her mind
to make room for the possibility of tomorrow, and the warmth of smiling children.
For a moment
that symbol broke her,
and in that moment, the ******* once again stole her humanity,
and turned Mrs. Wygodski into the number
they once told her she was.
Part Four: Land of the Free
Today thousands of hate groups continue to use the *******
teetering sideways
the way that ****** intended it.
Once a symbol of good fortune,
it is now the most widely recognized symbol of hate
the world has ever known.
Used in the United States
the ******* has opened its claws
and staked claim to the beating hearts,
and hopeful sovereignty
and promised dreams
of countless African Americans,
who became the targets of the same bottomless hate
that engulfed millions in the holocaust.
Under our star spangled banner
the ******* has overseen
thousands of racially driven lynchings,
ongoing police brutality
the imprisonment of one out of three black men
and the bombing of black children in their Sunday school dresses.
In Oregon,
the ******* celebrates the sealing of borders,
is embraced by the very groups
who once outlawed black existence
in our very own state constitution,
the same groups
who once dictated the state’s refusal
to ratify the 14th amendment
of equal protection,
and the 15th amendment
giving African Americans the right to speak
at the ballot box
and be heard
by their government.
In the land of the free, the *******
is still tattooed on chests
and ironed to coats
and scrawled on the walls of my classroom.
In our communities
there are
the European Kindred,
the Northwest Hammerskins,
Volksfront,
the National Socialist Party,
and the Ku Klux ****.
And they wear the *******
because they recognize its meaning,
the meaning we all know
the meaning imbedded deep
by the pointed guns of the Einsatzgruppen
Today,
here,
they wear the ******* because they want to swallow the world.
Part 5: In Conclusion
To whoever drew the *******
last week,
last year,
in every year before that
in the bathroom, in the hallway, on my classroom wall and desks.
I forgive you.
Not because I want to
but because Mrs Wygodski would.
I will give you the benefit of the doubt.
I will believe you didn’t mean it.
I will believe you didn’t know.
I will still have hope in your humanity
because what choice do I have?
This is my refusal to become what the Nazis wanted,
what hate groups still want.
That is how I resist.
I refuse to hate you,
I refuse
to hate.
However, now that I’m addressing you directly,
I want to take this moment to make clear
that when I see the *******
this is what I see:
I see Mrs Wygodski,
with her kindness that was like a spring
flowing from somewhere dark and unseeable
and I see her face when she walked into a room with that symbol
and I see the colors of her world bleed out.
I see my missing family members,
who I never actually had the chance to really see.
So I imagine them,
my grandfather’s aunts, uncles and cousins
from a shtetle somewhere in Poland,
erased completely from history, from record, from existence
by ******* wearing men
who forgot how to be human.
Finally, I see my students.
The rest of them,
with their still young impressionability
and their beautiful array of skin colors, backgrounds, ethnicities, cultures
and their intact understanding of love.
They are the hope that our grandparents thought was lost,
and this ******* is their antithesis.
It is the undoing of their sanctity,
it is you spitting in the face of everyone who is not you.
And if you do that intentionally,
if you do that knowingly
and with purpose,
well, that
is unforgivable
This was a powerful poem written by my teacher, Sam. I really loved the power of her words and the mental image it left in my head. Enjoy!
last night I saw you in my dreams.
just as crystal clear as the day you told me you were ready to leave.
An old man told me to be careful what I wish for.
pretty sure I saw Jesus, and grandma, how can that be?
I watched my life pass before my eyes last night.
watched him hold me like he used to, watched us dance around the bedroom like before.
they say life is to short to worry about death.
but what if death is merely a telescope to your life that you can peer into and find the joy?
I woke up this morning with tears on my face.
I wanted to fall back asleep, wanted to see you again and get back whatever time we lost.
last night I saw you in my dreams.
last night I touched your hands and I remembered all the ways you made me smile.
last night I saw him in my dreams.
last night I said goodbye to a love i never thought I would ever let go of.
i woke up this morning and felt something shift inside me.
it was like a weight lifted off of my shoulders; it was freeing.
i could breathe easier, think more clearly, and talk coherently.
i didn't check to see if anyone was watching me through the window.

in case you're wondering, i don't think of you much anymore.
my mind doesn't wander to thoughts of you and me and what was us.
my head is less crowded now that i've finally let go of you and me and us.
i sleep through the night, and that had never happened before.

i woke up this morning, and i smiled sincerely for the first time in weeks.
my freckles don't stand so stark against my skin in the mirror.
i'm starting to really love the girl i see in my reflection.
i'm starting to think and to believe that i can and will accomplish my dreams.

in case you're wondering, i'm not the broken girl you used to love.
i don't constantly wonder if i'm enough for anyone anymore.
i don't wonder why you couldn't love me the right way from the start.
and whatever good times we shared, well, i threw them out with last week's trash.
because we never really were in love, were we now?

you didn't make time, you were never really there and i know you never truly cared.
and i was a fool for staying by your side when all you ever did and continued to do was lift me up and then knock me down.
and i'm not a fool for your love anymore.
i moved on to something bigger and better and have no room for you in my life anymore.
Next page