I cannot explain all the pathetic measures my eyes will take to avoid your gaze, all the paths my legs will journey to avoid bumping into you on my way home. All the ways I knead my hands to the bone and all the toothpick excuses skewering my tongue. And I cannot explain the way your presence deflates something inside my chest. I don't know what to do with all that empty space. It echoes. I fill it with the thimble's worth of pride that I scrape together, every meager flake of validation I pick from the floor. I shovel slopping handfuls of sawdust to try and soak up some of the shadows but everything dissolves in that oily void, green and hideous. God, it echoes, and everyone hears it. I muffle it with my radio silence. I look at you and I see everything I hate about myself under a microscope. Every blemish, every scar, every gaping hole that you lack. Stop, look. Here. Wrong. Hear? I blind myself with radio silence. I don’t know how to live with an eternal reminder that I am incomplete. You, and the place you hollowed without even knowing it. Green and monstrous. It echoes and everyone hears it. I love you, but I cannot explain my radio silence.
handcrafted product of Insomnia™ let's hope i don't hate it in the morning
It's 11:05pm I'm just leaving your new home Driving 57 miles back to mine And the dark blue sky Reminds me of that chilling water And the bright clouds reflecting the city lights Reminds of those waves I was running towards them as fast as I could To feel like the wind was taking me with it To break the heavy chains of our pain We had lost touch with being alive We were zombies holding eachother's rotting minds But in this moment, You were taking pictures of me Emotions filling my face with color again And I was free, euphoric Escaping my mind to feel the ocean Did you feel that too?
Do you remember what it was like To feel love Be loved To know our love? Even if it only lasted for a short time I would do anything to feel that again It's unlike any I've felt before And still have yet to find again I thought I found it once But then manipulation carved my heart out And I remembered you: How good you were How sweet How humble How delicate you were with me
You were so vulnerable So new to the world And when we got together You didn't get somebody Who had a fresh start like you I had been broken Again and again There was so much scar tissue That I didn't believe I could be wounded But I was wrong And when I started to bleed You watched it drain out of me Become infected And you couldn't stop any of it But I knew you still loved me.
How did it get so bad? My emotions were screaming How long did this go on? I couldn't see what was happening to you Until you reached that breaking point With me in my bedroom When did it start? Was it gradual? Did it sneak up quietly? So you couldn't see it coming? You couldn't love anything anymore You became numb for months You were losing pieces of yourself As I was building my puzzle again You fell further away from reality As I sought connection and found it You lost touch with yourself What you wanted What you needed in life I think that destroyed you And your innocence And your ability to love How did I not see the magnitude of your pain?
When I texted you You said you were good But when I saw you You couldn't lie to my face I wondered Who had checked in with you last To see how you were doing Now, the scar tissue has formed once more After all the hard work I did I had hoped so much That you were doing okay too When I told you how well I was doing You started crying I wasn't sure if that was because You were happy for me Or you realized how broken you still were
Hug me again like you did in the shed I haven't felt that since I saw you last And I know if you said that It wouldn't mean the same thing Because I'm the only one You've ever really touched And to think you spent your entire childhood Never being touched I used to get so frustrated Because you wanted my touch all the time But it never was enough or what you wanted And later I realized How could you have enjoyed it? You were numb entirely
Driving back home is torture It feels like Olympia all over again All I want is to be in your arms Snuggle me tightly in bed Be my home again This long dark road Is lightened by stars And I still remember My fingers tracing your warm skin The constellation of freckles on your arm The intensity of your hugs I never wanted you to let go So I let go instead 8 months ago And how I wish you were still my home
Know not what you know, it's true Though thoughts are yours Are concepts such? Is learning found? Be it breathed inward by yourself Or with locking lips No such life and thought Must first be instilled by this teaching within you Ew
Decorate yourself with glitter Pretend you're not a throat slitter Put on some fancy clothes Stuff up your rotting nose Remove the dirt from your oozing toes Cover up the cuts with pantyhose Bin the decomposing embryo's Do what you want, But what I sup pose Is that it always shows.
why am i to spend 12 years of my life learning the same history 12 ways each year getting more into depth about how straight, white, and cis, "all" of history just happens to be when in reality anything that was ever deemed abnormal or harmful to america's image just doesn't get taught.
all these years of being sheltered from the truth about america the great has left me with questions i'm scared will go unanswered and so
I'd like to know which group of old white men decided erasing history was a good idea If i'm stuck learning about these so called achievements and revolutions which only came from the self proclaimed superiors i'd like to know whose idea it was to forget about The whips cracked in to bleeding black skin Making it known that my ancestors were no more than a tool No more than what white men, white masters made them in to No more than a slave until 1865
I want to know who made it possible for my history teacher to ask me what my opinion on slavery is since i’m the only black kid in sight When will they teach me why it’s okay for the 20 white kids in my class To call me their ***** but it’s not okay for me to get mad about it
Please tell me how these people figured out who all they should kindly choose to silence? maybe they thought it's too much to cover in class Since we have to have time to be taught about manifest destiny And how Americans had every right to take land and lives Because white men deserve to take what doesn’t belong to them or maybe it's been deemed inappropriate because they're too scared to admit That America would rather hose down black kids waiting for our skin to become clear and praying for our melanin to wash off just so they would stop having to look at the skin they deemed sinful than admit that America loves to make black people fearful.
When are we taught about who chose to write about all of america's triumphs and good times but somehow seemed to forget about the scars passed on to me from over 100 years ago But didn’t know i had until i was ten years old. And honestly that no longer surprises me i mean America only speaks of cishet white guys. and I bet you didn't know about very first gay pride. It was a series of riots started because America decided Loving who you want makes you unequal And the only way to fix that is using force that’s lethal Force that would leave lovers lives laying in the street like the never even lived Force that led to June 28th through July 1st becoming riots that didn’t need to happen but the police couldn’t keep their privileged fingers off of gay people But it’s fine because ignoring that part of history has become an American steeple.
At this point I know all the answers to every test asking about the history you feed us In attempts to hide the truths of this country that wishes it never freed us so stop teaching me the same cis, straight, white history I've already been taught 10 going on 11 years of my life because i don't care about the men who wanted to keep my ancestors bound Or the country that keeps trying to tell me that my love isn’t allowed i care about the history they'll continue to ignore and erase. i care about the history America begs me to forget.