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Lost 18h
Am I really so empty?
Dried corn husk
Brittle leaves curved
Around negative space

The fruits of the earth
Long plucked away
Leaving nothing
But open air

But where did it all go?
Rows of pearly yellow
Crowded parts
Bursting and vibrant life

Gone is not the right word
Consumed is not either
Departed comes to mind
But it doesn’t fit right

Maybe the change is not a death
Maybe it is a birth instead

A husk is not the same
Without it’s core
But it is
It is

Born again I am new
This skin walks hollow
This skin walks full
I am not empty
I am the sum of my parts
Wholeness is perceived
And pieced together

I am the sum of my parts
Past and present
Intertwined so tight
The seams meld into one

Clay raked from wet ground
With my clawed hands
The weight feels the same
Balanced in my palms

Interlocking fingers
Press one heap of clay
To the other
Ooze leaks from gaps

Husk or whole
Both are parts
When clay palms collide
It’s impossible to just see
One or the other

A story is not the same
When you remove history
I cannot be a husk
Unless there was
Lost May 15
The same Bright Eyes album
With the same feeling
In the same bed
Looking at a different ceiling

Some things stay the same
And some things will change
But it all feels old
Musty, dusty,
Stained with mold

Water damage on the walls of my room in the double wide
Are like the new stretch marks on my stomach
My plaster skin, my sheetrock hide

If I pick
The paint
Comes off
Rubbery in slippery fingers
Little round fingertip
Jagged cuticle I bit

I can’t remember much
But nothing feels new
My optic nerves receive stimuli
With no brain to register to

I am not blind
I think I might just choose
To leave my mind places
I won’t go back to
I already have a poem titled “VACANT” but tbh after writing over 100 poems it’s getting quite difficult to come up with new titles each time lol.

I hope you’re all doing alright during these uncertain times. Much love to all of you wonderful members of this community :)
Lost Mar 9
When will I ever feel
Like I am enough?

I don’t want you to
To look at me

I don’t want you
To know
Who I am
Because it’s rotten
It’s spoiled
It’s festering
I’m a person
Who’s just gone bad
Long ago
And will never have
A resurrection
A chance to
This downhill direction
I’ve been diving in
Some days
I tread water
But my arms
They get tired
And time and time again
I drown
I don’t want
To take you down
To the depths
Of my despair
I don’t want
You to care
It would be better if
I could disappear
Lost Mar 2
Crossing paths
Is just that
A blip in my timeline
Aligns with yours

A year or two or three
You’ll spend with me
But we’re just crossing paths
Nothing more than that

My heart aches for the day
One of us walks away
Gone, but with a trace
With memories
Of your face
In my head
In my mind
What lies ahead
I dread
That I’ll find
All these paths
Are crossing at times
But always split
Sooner or later
Lost Feb 7
Picked up
Off the ground

Teenage hands
Meet this paper tube
Teenage hands
Smell of lighter fluid

This tobacco cylinder
Plucked from the concrete
Once kissed by fire
Again meets

Inhaled deep
Then exhaled soft
Teenager sees
Pluming smoke

Cigarette ****
Smoked down
Tobacco flakes
Snow onto the ground

Bottom of boot
Smears it away
Ash blends into
Wet tar and grey
Lost Feb 7
My car is
A home
I trash it
I think it
The person that
I am
***** messy
****** terrible
I trash my car
As I trash myself
Cramming garbage
Into every corner
Never thinking
To stop and wonder
What my life
Would be like
If I were cleaner
Not having to worry
Every time
Someone new
Sees the trash I hide
In my car
It smells of cigarettes
In my car
Is a sea of garbage
In my car
I drown in debris
Knowing I’m the only one
Who has done this to me
The last line of my senior quote was, “I bet my car is still a mess” or something along those lines. I was right. I am habitually and perpetually the owner of the dirtiest car I know.
Lost Jan 30

It’s been a while, friend.
Since I’ve seen your face,
Heard your voice,
The sound of your laugh
Seen you play with your messy hair.

I think of you a lot.
I think of you when I hear
The songs we listened to
I can’t listen to
A lot of songs
I used to love
Because of you,
But that’s okay.

I find new songs,
And I think of you too.
I think of you first,
Because you’re
The only person
I would have showed them to.
It’s mostly sad songs
That remind me of you
Because you
Are sadness
To me.

Sadness personified.

I miss you so much
My throat feels tight
Writing this.
I miss you so much
That it’s been
Over a year
And hearing your name
Still makes my stomach

And the worst part is
I know,
God do I know,
That I could have
Made things different.

But no.
I didn’t.

But I also know
You could have too.

The blame isn’t mine
To totally own.
Though I think I
Feel it so heavy
On my shoulders
Some days
That I think
I might
Break under
The weight.

I wonder
Do you feel the same?

Does your stomach drop
When you hear my name?
Do you cry sometimes
Just thinking
About how
It could
Be different?

I thought I saw
Your car today.
My heart leapt
And then immediately
Not because
It wasn’t you—
Because if it were
I don’t know what I’d do.
I thought about it
And realized
The right thing
Would be to do
To pretend
I saw

I think I might
Be the only one
Left to still
Miss our friendship.

I think you’ve
Moved on better
Than I have.

And I’m glad.

But, *******,
Do I wish
You might
Text me back.
This poem is not a good poem, but I’m not posting it for anybody on here anyway. I’m posting it for me. Like all of my poems, this is not for any audience. This is for my sanity.

Thank you for reading regardless. I feel less alone when you guys relate.
Lost Jan 28
I can’t do much these days
When I wanted to fill quiet space
I used to listen to sad songs
Because I loved them
And related to them
But I don’t do that much anymore
To save my heart
The suffering

I can’t do much these days
When I didn’t want to go to bed
I used to smoke cigarettes at night
Because I loved nicotine
And they calmed me
But I don’t do that much anymore
To save my lungs
From blackening

I can’t do much these days
When I was small
I used to steal food from the kitchen
Because I loved eating until I felt sick
And I liked the taste
But I don’t to that much anymore
To save my heart
From disease

I can’t do much these days
When I was in high school
I used to try to starve myself until I would faint
Because I loved being skinny
And I hated my body
But I don’t do that much anymore
To save my stomach
From aching

I can’t do much these days
When I was eleven or twelve
I used to open and hurt my skin
Because I loved pain
And I felt like I was bursting anyway
But I don’t do that much anymore
To save my tissue
From scarring

I can’t do much these days
When I was a teenager
I used to pop 100mg Adderall during the day
Because I loved medicating
And my doctor told me it was okay
But I don’t do that much anymore
To save mind
From tweaking

I can’t do much these days
When I wanted to die
I used to destroy myself
Because I loved to hurt
And I felt I deserved it
But I don’t do that much anymore
To save my mom
The grief

To save myself
Lost Jan 27
I want
To make

When I go to sleep at night
I remember
And I don’t like it

I want
To make

Of good days that I can say I really liked
That I didn’t just exist in
But was a part of
Lost Jan 25
I have so much pain
Stuffed away inside me
I don’t feel it all that often anymore
But I know it’s still there

I’d like to purge it
To flush it out
This emotional abscess
Rotting me

I’d like to cut it out
And walk around
With a big hole
Straight through me

I’d like to hook a finger
Down my throat
And scoop and dig it
Out of me

I’d like to find it
Peeking out of a pore
And I’d like to
Squeeze it away

But instead I cry
Because crying is
The closest thing
I’ve got
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