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Sarah Carbonneau Aug 2015
Come up to me

As I lay face up on the bed

Seeing nothing.

It’s probably just momentary,

The morning light is blinding but I’m

Not going anywhere for a while.

These covers captivate, they capture.

Wake me, break me, I’d rather scream than lay

In silence on minute longer.

I can’t feel anything under all these layers,

These places,

These faces.

I’m lying here, Just lying here-

I’m always lying here,

What am I doing, wasting my life under these sheets, duvets, and quilts?

And what the **** is a duvet anyway?

I’m just under the surface of something.

I can’t place it.

It’d be nice to know what I”m drowning in, but that’s

Just my luck.

Can’t I just get up, instead of

bleeding for one more line?

No I can’t. Ask me why,

Then it will be both of us in silence.

I suppose it’s

the obvious reason.

There’s no motivation out there

In the big world full of bombs and ******* Abercrombie.

What possibly keeps all of these people



Give me one good thing out there,

And a minute to tear it down.

Everything is getting teared down.

So my bed is

The more favorable option.

The fleece smells like fabric softener and

There’s a far greater chance of

Something positive coming from my dreams

Than from the next election,

From Darfur.

To die, to sleep. To sleep- perchance to dream.

As if I would be so lucky.

I see only blackness.
Sarah Carbonneau Aug 2015
I never want to move again. I need to be fixed. I’ve tried long enough myself.  Someone hit me hard. Harder. What does eternity feel like? I bet it resembles the last few minutes before you call, as I watch the leaves rustle back and forth on the tree by my window. I always think they should break off and fly away, but they never do. They stay there, dancing madly about, thrown indiscriminately by the wind. I wonder if someone could ever move me so.
Sarah Carbonneau Aug 2015
It’s 4:12 AM and the grass is damp beneath my feet as I walk aimlessly around this garden, thinking of you. I’ve come to enjoy walking alone without seeing another human. It makes me feel like there are less people between my heart and where you are. I look up at the stars and wonder if you see them too. Where I am presently, they’re exceptionally bright. They illuminate my surroundings. We’re the only two people in the Universe but I love you never felt like a blessing. As I run my fingers along the bushes, I know you feel what I’m feeling. You’re here always, knowing me, and I never want to see you again. I feel incredibly free. This is when I feel most like myself. Why can’t I always be who I am tonight? Sadness and liberation are in the texture of everything. The air is crisp and I breathe in life. Always, always, always keep me here. I am too old for my age and I never want another day to slip through my fingers like smoke, leaving only the scent of what has long since been extinguished. I’d rather have conversations with the trees, they know the important things. I am alone but feel company in myself and in the world around me, devoid of those who have lost themselves. The sun is coming up. I retreat inside to my warm blankets and the breathing of those who love me. “There is no greater ecstasy than to know who you are.”
Sarah Carbonneau Aug 2015
I know that I am young and impatient, and that my desires are fueled by idealized and dramatized stories in pages of books and scenes of movies. I know that it is childish of me to feel as though my continued existence depends on soon finding someone who understands the depths of me. Without someone to ground me to this world, I feel that all that I am comprised of will disappear in a beautiful but brief sunset, and that I will float upwards into darkness. Despite my knowledge that this is all very ridiculous, I feel it everywhere, all the time. I am not looking for companionship to complete me (I am not that person.) but rather someone to help me map out whatever clusterfuck is inside me in order for me to complete myself. This is not for my heart but for my soul, and try as I might, I cannot change the wants and needs of it (despite my best efforts to hide them from others and from myself). So what now? Do I continue to feel this way? As of at any moment I will fade away? My passion, concentration, and direction are gone. What else is contented to leave me, and what will I be left with once they are gone (what will be left of me)?
Sarah Carbonneau Aug 2015
There is nothing healthy about the way i sleep and I sometimes feel as though there is nothing worth the anguish experienced in these moments in the dark. When you walk out of your front door in the winter at night, when the crisp air wraps around your face (that first second) and you take your first breath of fresh-fallen snow– that is what I live for. The ice travels through my nose, licks my brain, and caresses my heart. I feel at home. It is quiet and it is dark and it is cold, but there is a fire in my heart and it is explosive and calming all at once (welcome welcome welcome). I ache for this. For anything that makes me feel alive but this is what comes to mind. Send shivers down my spine and pour burning glass down my throat. Let me feel it. Let me feel it. Taunt me (little breaths on the hair of my back. I love you). The oils of my skin long for you. My eyelashes wait. My kneecaps weep. Whisper. Let me, let me. I’ll take you on a journey of hopelessness and passion wrapped in snow. How I long for the snow. The snow the snow the snow.
Sarah Carbonneau Aug 2015
I feel as though I am being continually touched by something very moving and profound. I know not what this thing might be, only what it has done to me. My life has become a series of paradoxes. I feel extremely heavy and light at the same time, extremely sad and extremely happy within the same moment. My thoughts feel empty and explosive all at once. I cannot grasp onto anything. I am being pushed and pulled by this invisible wind in every direction, like a dead leaf blowing up and down, in circles but never reaching the ground, with no control over its course or destination. Nothing makes sense and yet I yearn to know everything worth knowing. My brain, my reason cannot keep up. I am at the mercy of this beautiful, terrible thing. As much as I believe that knowledge is power, in this case it is quite the opposite. I am incapable of taking control. I no longer have authority over my own existence, knowing not what I want or need, and yet I wish to know where I am headed because it seems too important. This thing has bewitched my heart and my mind along with it. The beauty hurts, the pain is lovely. I am learning that some things are not worth the agony of knowing, but agony brings me joy despite myself because it means that I am living.
Sarah Carbonneau Aug 2015
If the world made sense I would say

That the sky has not stopped crying

For you

Since those doors opened for you yesterday;


Have we.

But the world has no purpose, no plan,

And that chaos is the only reason

You are gone.

And so it is us only

That are weeping.

Now the Earth has been thrown

Over your limp form,

And now I am left wondering

When the rain will stop.
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