Syd: Poems

Syd Jul 2014

falling in love was kind of like
trying to explain what colors are
to a blind person
it was when you ran up the basement stairs as a kid
but never quite knew what it was
you were running away from
what it was that you hoped wasn't chasing you up the stairs
but you were always too scared
to turn around and look
or being afraid of the dark
even though you didn't know
what you were really scared of
its like laying in bed at night
in a more or less constant state of paranoia
and hearing a noise come from across the room
but not wanting to turn and see what it could be
see, we've never really known what it is that we're scared of
falling in love is being scared of everything that might happen
its being scared of what's chasing you up the stairs, lingering in the darkness or hiding in your bedroom
its being scared, but not caring
because you fall in love anyway

you know exactly who you are

Syd Apr 2016

you know exactly who you are

I can't believe it's almost
two years to the day
and still to this day
I can't stomach to look
at your face
because looking at your face
means looking at your mouth
and your mouth gives me anxiety
in the worst kind of way

I wonder if they know
your gifriend or your sister
I would say your parents but
we all know that they don't
because they are my parents too
and I've made absolutely sure
to keep this secret safe between
the sheets of my bed and
pieces of paper that always
find their way to the bottom
of my trashcan

your mouth
you smelled like alcohol even though
we both know there was no way
you could have possibly been drunk
you snuck me down into a basement
I will never be able to crawl out of
without turning the lives of everyone
upstairs in our house upside down

so why am I still keeping your secret
don't I deserve that
don't I deserve upside down and
broken glasses and furious parents
don't I deserve answers and closure and
the simple satisfaction in the fact that
everyone would know what you did

but it's almost two years to the day
and as they're lighting the candles
on my birthday cake
the only wish I have left
is that no one
will ever
find out

your hands owe me an apology

Syd May 2014

your hands owe me an apology

growing up my mother always said
that ***** hands and scraped knees
were good for me
my father taught me
how to ride a bike
and drive a car
but you taught me that life was only
worth living if you lived it with
someone you loved

I guess my father loved cigarettes
more than he loved kissing my mother
and I suppose I loved your hands
much more than any other
set of bones on your body because
it was much harder to recover
from nights of an empty bed and
lonely legs than it was for you to say

goodbye
or
why

my mother failed to mention that
broken hearts and open arms spent waiting
in half made beds behind unlocked doors know much more of pain than ****** elbows and yellowed bruises

my hips had hoped to make your hands
their final resting place
and my lips knew no greater taste
than the toxcity of your kisses
and I wonder
if this is
good
for
me

your side of the bed

Syd Jul 2014

your side of the bed

it's almost 3 a.m
and my eyes are begging for sleep
but my fingers are dreaming of your skin
and longing for your touch
and I miss you so much that
I started sleeping on your side of the bed
and I swear I can still feel your lips on my forehead
or the warmth of your voice in my ear whispering goodnight
I love you
you said
it's almost 3 a.m
and one side of the bed
will always be empty
it doesn't matter where I lay
because I swear I feel you everywhere
your name in my throat
and your fingers in my hair
but that doesn't even begin to compare
to the fact that when they asked me for my blood type
I almost choked on your smile
ten thousand miles between our veins and
you still manage to take my breath away
it's almost 3 a.m
and even when my blood turns to whiskey
my mind wanders back to you
in this drunken state of black and blue
I love you
you said
it's 3 a.m
goodnight from your side
of the bed

you were never worth a title

Syd Jul 2014

you were never worth a title

I hope that when you think of me
the teeth of my memory
sink into your skin
stretched tight like snare drums
around your ribs and across your hips
and no matter how many times I heard
my name drip between your lips
it will never feel real
because now my lungs have turned to steel and my heart still beats but hasn't healed
I hope your flesh turns to fire
at the remembrance of my touch
I hope your blood boils in your veins and your brain decides it's too much
I hope that when you think of me
you're six feet below where I plan to be
I hope it burns
I hope your stomach turns and
I hope it kills you to see me
smiling
I hope I cross your mind as many times that exist between never and forever
every second of the day spent wondering and regretting and remembering to forget me
and I'm somewhere between
*******
and thank you
for forgetting me
for destroying me at fourteen
thank you
for the metaphorical skinned knees
and excuses that resembled
it was never meant to be
the holes in my walls say with sincerity
thank you
because they wouldn't be here
had it not been for you
when I was fourteen
I thought that was the right thing to do
when I was fourteen
I didn't know how to think
the pills I never took
the alcohol I didn't drink
the tears I didn't cry
the night I didn't die
the night I realized
I never needed you
because the sun would still rise
and the sky was still blue
the earth would still turn
and I didn't need you

— The End —