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Sarah Writes Feb 2013
I write such pretty words
About the ones I've sort of loved
I used to think I'd be like Joni Mitchell
And love all the beautiful men
With their beautiful voices
And their beautiful souls
I've gotta get me a singer in the park, dancer in the dark
A ***** word thief to mirror my own heart
Funny how life goes exactly how you don't plan it
Or if you were prepared for that
It will go according to plan but taste like splenda
Sticky, fakesweet
Me, I'm riding steady on the latter
Sometimes getting sadder
And barring that time when I was sixteen
All the loving never felt like love
Not all the way
I don't mean to degrade those salty days
I've got a headful of memories that I'd never trade
I don't know what I'm thinking when I say the love I make could be better
Maybe because I've never been made stupid, never really been played
Which is to say that I've never actually gone all the way
Never settled or sacrificed anything I couldn't get back
Most of me is always tucked away
Escaping only in blinding bursts that leave everyone involved a little scared
I don't remember how to temper myself
In relation to anyone else
But I remember every time I've realized that something wasn't what I wanted
I'm **** good at falling out of it
And writing lots of stupid poems about it
I've watched too many people rip each other apart with it
Felt it start to rip at me
Of course I'll never let that happen
I'm the first to advocate divorce
But some days I get really worried that I'm not capable of anything more
It's not that I'm broken
I just have really,
Really
Good boundaries
Maybe I'm lying, scared and selfish
Going against my own mind
I know I've felt bliss
Once I felt infinite
But that was a different me, all soft and made of clay
This me, pushing out these particular words, well
I've never been in love
I'm always a little bit in love
Hey guys, let's all write love poems today! Happy Valentine's.
Sarah Writes Nov 2013
When I was twenty one, I thought I'd probably find The One
I used to have a pretty good look, I walked around on stilts
I walked around like clouds
And saw people as rays of light
And then at twenty two I walked home alone in the dark
And I got lost after the bars
Got lost between the cars
So I just kept trying to leave like in a dream
I kept punching things, but my arms were too weak
To do anything but caress
And it was my funniest joke, the way I hid from the sun
I didn't like the way it let the world see so much
But in the dark things kept on falling apart
I had all sorts of cuts on my hands
And then one night at the bar I was screaming
I'm a ******* unicorn
Because I thought no one was listening
And in the dark, at the bar, in the cold and the smoke
Tainted water
I rested my head on your collarbone
Sarah Writes Feb 2013
The distance between what we say and what we mean
The difference between what I need you to hear
And what you hear when I speak
Between what you need and what you say

That's the place where it hurts
That's the place where love turns into poison
And weapons

It should be so simple because I'm your little girl and you're my Dad
Who took me for walks on railroad tracks
And let me bring home every rock that I thought was special
You filled your pockets with them, you never told me they were just quartz
You read me stories and had a pickup truck named Betsy
Who couldn't drive past an ice cream shop without stopping because she was special too
You took me camping and swimming and hiking
(I canoe, canoe canoe?)
And played the Grateful Dead
You were so good at being a Dad

I remember you sitting me down and telling me that I'd always be your number one
That you would love me no matter what I did
I was just a kid
And I believed

But I grew up
And you got older and scareder and sadder
Things got a lot harder

I stopped being little, stopped being a piece of you
That must have hurt
Because you forgot your promise
You built a world of expectations and as it grew
So did the distance between you, and the good in you
You can be so mean
And the worst part is that I feel guilty for being mad at you
Because I know that you're just scared
Really really scared
I understand
I do

It's terrifying to love things that are not you
What if they leave?
What if they hurt you?
What if they don't love you enough?
Or the way that you want them to?
It's hard to have faith
Especially if you're not used to faith being had in you
But can't you see how much weight your fears put on me?

I wish you had faith in me
I wish you saw my good intentions
And respected me for my strengths
I wish I could be who I am around you
I am smart and opinionated and unafraid
I think critically and see the best in people
But those are the things in me that you seem to hate
I never thought it could hurt so much to feel disliked

It brings out the worst in me

So I hide
Because it is impossible to take care of both of us at the same time
If I take care of myself, it hurts you
If I take care of you, it hurts me

When we talk you ask me about money
And school
And money
And my future plans
And money
Have I called the dentist?
Done my taxes?
Applied for scholarships?

None of those things have any bearing on me

We haven't talked for months
I'm not going to call you and say that I'm sorry
I'm so sorry, but not for the reasons you think I should be
I'm sorry we can't just talk
I'm sorry it's hard for us to be around each other
I'm sorry we resent each other
I'm sorry that I miss you so much, but am so afraid to talk to you
I don't want to be scared of you
I'm sorry that there is a room in my head that holds memories of you lashing out at me
I just want you to remember that you love me
If you could remember that and let go of everything else
I would call

That's a promise
This is a lot more therapy than poetry. It doesn't feel like a poem to me, just a thing that I needed to put somewhere outside of me for a minute or two.
Sarah Writes Sep 2013
I want to be one of those bright people
Want to sparkle, want to shine
To say some words in the right order
Stir some souls to action
Or to beauty
Or to anything, really
That'll get remembered I'm just
Trying to leave something behind
But I'll never sing a song
Or own a stage
Never quite master a page
I cuss too much
And wasn't born nearly beautiful enough
I might be just ******* average
I might just have to ******* live with that
My culture is a vulture
She never feeds me
She steals all the good poems I try to write, says it's because
She only feeds on scraps
My scar tissue doesn't form any interesting shapes
It just stretches it's way across all the things I want to give my heart to
Shameless and afraid
Trust me, I'm aware of this ego trap, I don't really live here but
I built it myself, and it's a nice little home where I keep all my three-legged pets
They come out when I'm low and scuttle around my head, pointing out all the beautiful people my age
Who have already Done Something
Who have found their voices and changed people's lives
Or shredded their cards and headed out
Who have painted themselves onto canvases of every size
Who right now are probably somewhere that smells really good and has nice lighting, looking intolerably beautiful in the glow of some god ****** sunrise, lost in the mystery of creating things
Not sitting here, thinking like this
Sarah Writes Jan 2015
When I go I will go far
I'll follow the sun from the riverbed of my childhood home
To places where the mountains hold no snow
I will sing my freedom song to the birds along the road
I'll braid sweetgrass through my hair
Cup my hands around the moonbeams
And sleep out in the air
When I go I will be
The stars in my own eyes
Wool blankets, blue crickets, battered books, tall trees
I will be strong legs and bitter tea
The climbing of the mountain for the diving to the spring
I will be art out on a blanket and poetry sold for free
Abandoned cabins and agates on the beach
Cold water in the morning, apples eaten to the core
I will be anywhere I need
I will be everything I see, and then a little bit more
When I go, I will be
The sun in my own eyes, the sand beneath my feet
The ocean in a cup, for it takes salt to make me clean
I'll be the moss on every tree, a moving prayer on folded knees
Whispering bliss, singing praise, thank you for this day
Thank you for the sun, my heart, the sea
When I go, I will go free
Sarah Writes Nov 2013
The first time you told me you loved me, I was drunk,
And I cried.
And then I was having a panic attack,
And my god ****** cigarette wasn't helping
And the air in my lungs was revolting.
The first time you told me that you loved me,
I couldn't say it back.
Not the second, the third, or the fourth.
I didn't say it the night that I told you you bring out the best in me,
Or the day after that, when I told you your dimples
Feel like the parenthesis around my own laugh.
I didn't tell you, even when you pointed up toward the full moon, just like the night we had met,
Or in the morning after that, when I woke up from nightmares about being thrown in jail
And found myself so grateful to have you next to me that when I rolled over to wrap myself around your still sleeping body, I almost whispered the words in your ear, just to give you a sweeter dream than mine.
The first time I thought it was when you first got out your guitar.
In that warmup chord, I saw what my body already knew your fingers could do.
And for some reason, it made me think about how you always put away your leftovers, how you ask me, little darlin, where was I going with that
Every **** time you tell a story, call me your steel trap.
While you played my favorite song without knowing, I thought about
How long we stood in the aisle weighing the pros and cons
Of toothbrushes
And how easily we laugh.
But still I can't say it, not yet, no matter how good you look in the yard, chopping wood.
We need more words for love because
I think maybe we see it differently.
If we were on the same page, you would never put forth something so easily
That could take us so far
And drop us so hard.
Because the love that I want between you and I
Is the kind that takes time
The kind that knows how to see in the dark, that forgives all of the embarrassing things.
Like maybe someday I'll show you my poetry.
I see the kind of love that has learned to navigate the world through four eyes
Like a spiderweb touching
The bark on our adjacent trees.
It requires you to forgive yourself the knowledge of me.
And that is not easy.
You joke, tell me you l-word me
Tell me that someday I'll learn how to love, just a joke, but
I don't know if you know it's not nice.
I do know love,
I know love like the backs of my teeth,
Like the way it ties strings across time and death and seas.
I know love like the way I have so many people in my life who give it to me for free
And I am so god ****** lucky that you feel it for me.
I know love in how much I want you
To be happy.
And yes, I know how to love between lovers,
But most of what I know is about how it goes away.
I remember how to fall out of love, so well,
How to lose myself in the swell
Of a dying tide.
I know
That for you I will dive back into that ocean
And that when I say those words, I will mean them, I will believe them.
And I know that I love myself far too much
To do anything but trust my own tongue because
Sometimes when you smile I feel like I've waited for you my whole life
So, on this, I can be patient.
Sarah Writes Mar 2014
I am sorry
I never got in line with those cars,
couldn't bear to pass you by, my downpour lover,
without a taste of your sharpsweet fruit.

Zenith of my troubles,
you are naught but a blackberry bramble,
the stars were laughing every night I held you,
and I am out of shovels.

— The End —