I put my feelings in a box
I scatter them across the page

I order them and categorize
Like I used to order stationary
Or split the peas from the carrots
Right before consuming

I try to defrag my brain
Stack the boxes all nice and tidy

But with the filling of each box
Is the finding of more feelings
Littered across the ground
Or, like dust, floating

Hidden cracks and corners:
My mind is a maze
Of feeling, thought, unexplored opinion
Unscrambling is eternal.

I'm going crazy
Because I was thinking
That just maybe
You could change
I been complaining
Contemplating
How I could get away
But
I'm still here like I must stay
You are leeching at my air supply
Tugging at my voice box
And I know it's because of your age
The insecurities won't cease
That was the beginning end of my defeat
And my energy is depleted
So I through my hands up in defeat
Ha ha
You win
Only it isn't funny
When
You have someone who will chastise and never defend
All the while I've been
Bowing down
Excusing myself
Apologizing for stuff
All the way backwards I've bent
Just to see that snide grin
That awful smirk when you're saying I'm sorry
over
and over
and over again
No more excuses
No more I'm sorry
Because apparently we are all sorry and no one has the ***** enough to apologize and follow up with real change
I can't be the twenty something year old mom who looks three times her age
From the stress and the lies and the promises you've made
I need more
I want more
I
Deserve
More
But I am too tired from waiting all these years to continue to hold on
There is not hope here
We are the dry season that bears no new fruit
We are the plague that destroys all things in its path
And I don't want to be a part of the storm that's brewing with you
Just give me a chance to age gracefully
But with someone who won't take all my joy away from me

Slip me in an envelope
seal me in safety
put a stamp on and,
address to anywhere
I don't want to know
And really do not care
as long as no one
Can see the inverted me.

I pack my bag. A girl approaches me.
"I love your jacket! "
/I hate my life./
"Thank you! Me too!"                  
I hurriedly make my way across the side walk.
" I really like your boots."    
/I really don't like being alive./
" Thanks! They were at Target!"
I glance at my tattered agenda.
" I wish I could do make up like you!"
/I wish I would get hit by a car. /
"Aww, thanks! You can always try watching YouTube makeup tutorials for help!"            
/I seriously need help./
I scribble doodles in the margins of my notes.
" I wish I could draw like you!"
/I wish I could have my life together./
" Thanks, but it's  predominantly in practicing. Draw like you, instead!"
I crumple papers with shaking hands.
" I dig your sense of style."                
/ I wish I had my sense of direction./
"Thanks, that makes me feel nice!"
I dig the dirt beneath my jagged nail.
" You always look so cute."
/ I always look for reasons to not **** myself./
"Awh, thanks! I try."
I slouch into a computer chair.
"You look tired."
/I'm tired of  my life./
" I'm actually not. I just have naturally dark circles under my eyes, is all."
I glance up at a familiar face.
"How are you?"
/I'm drowning./
"I'm ...surviving. ."

Intimations of intuition
Liberally surface.
Faith and I
Are on speaking terms.
Ekstasis wraps its arms
Around me and eases
Into my body.

I seem transmuted.

Come Here by Kath Bloom
Is mentally playing;
She sings of love,
And even though I have no lover,
It still soothes me
Like the generous breeze,
And uplifts me
Like Sol's glimmering solace.

(c) 2014 Brandon Antonio Smith

Originally written 1/15/14
Revised in 2014

For not occupying
very much of it
I need space.
Taking more than
I can give.

I don’t have room in here
for all the people I want to be
let alone any spare rooms
for you to crawl into.

To you my skin would be
a snug sleeping bag
but to me it’s being loved
into a corner of myself.
The only way out is to zip
ourselves together and
for me to lose storage space.

There were little clues
like you asking me
if it was okay to get a haircut or
to help you pick out your jeans.
You wanted me to become you,
but I wouldn’t fit your mold
so you’re trying to fit mine.

But did you even consider me
before you moved in?
You may know that I cut
eleven inches of my hair
twenty-two months ago,
but do you care why?

Don’t exhaust me,
and try to find out what I hang
on the walls of myself, or what keeps
my grandfather’s clock ticking or
why there are no windows.

There aren’t many
I would invite in, probably
why my walls were built so small,
but to you they are an expansion project.
You see a house warming party
where I see invasion.
A For Sale sign has never
been more appalling.

Inhaling to expand myself
like a balloon, bigger and bigger
so people will see that just because
it may not look like it,
I take up a lot of space and
I deserve it because I am
denied of it.

You were a hurricane
I was a little cloud
I was very quiet
You were very loud
Invading my mind
You became Calm
I thought I was an ocean
But I am just a lamb.

You are bonfire smoke
Clinging to my favorite clothes
Washed my hair 30 times
Felt your hair in my fingers
Every single time

And when I look in the mirror
I wear your smile
This glow in my eyes
Is reflecting off your skin

If I pricked my finger
It'd be your blood
You're coarsing rapidly
Through my veins
*I need a transfusion to escape