Your world has come crashing down,
The sheep misguided, the flock astray,
The ice chiseled without a sound,
From your heart that is dismay.
You came to me without love,
I've broken your wings, little dove.
-
You asked me to fix you,
Broken, I attempted to fix myself,
I created a most wretched worldview,
Listening to you scream for help.
You came to me without laughter,
And I will make you suffer.
-
Engaging in whispers and deluded heresy,
You, behind my back, defied me,
I watched your passing most timely,
What became of you was revolting.
Alone I stood in what contained,
The abyss inside shall forever remain.
-
Keys to life held within stars,
A daunting vision of fabled death,
I'll destroy this sky of ours,
And become a haunting, ghastly figurehead.
All things for you held promise,
Until I butchered your vague innocence.
-
I know when your tongue lies,
It's all too familiar, my love,
I'll tie it 'round your eyes
And gaze upon it from above.
I once had love for you,
Despite what you put me through.
-
The creature inside me has awakened,
Although it never really could sleep,
You my dear, don't be mistaken,
Are the focus of it's greed.
I am what you cannot ****,
Oh, how I haunt you still.

The calm after the storm
Is an unsettling silence
The quiet that falls into the space
where apologies should be found
But instead we decide
Were both too proud
Too stuck in our ways
To say it out loud
To tell you how I need you
When my eyes meet yours for an instant
Yet I look away
Afraid of the monster im harboring
Trying to keep at bay
The disfigured soul
Behind the mask
Guarded and mutilated
trying to staple shut
Lacerations of yesteryears
That still bleed into today
To steal the feeling of sunshine on my face
Voices that tell me
Its not ok. Look in the mirror. Arent you ashamed? Ashamed of all the things you could never say
In the spaces where your fear
always got in the way of Everything
Always an excuse
Now you get to watch him
Walk away
As you count his strides
Cause you could never just confide
How much you needed his warm embrace
Now its all unfinished business
How his hand once whispered
Across your cheek
Now his footsteps echo into the empty street
Which will slip into the sands of time
Washed away like tears in the rain, dry your eyes
realize
cant relive it, cant rewind, cant take back what was uttered in the spaces where apologies should have resided.
The years go by
And you will still remember
How he didnt even check his shoulder
on the day that his footsteps just kept getting further
& there's no one you can blame
... you let him walk away.

It's all coming
back to me again

(The Sadness)

It hits me in waves
[Like the pain underneath
the bottom of my ribs]

It screams so loud it
blocks all else sounds

Creeping isn't its thing;
Attacking from behind though is

(And I guess this is
all my fault)

It's my fault for ever thinking
That I could be
happy

      normal

                            

                       (I can't get rid of it.
                                     Please help me get rid of it.)

Do you know how many times my mother coughs so hard in an hour that it still surprises me she hasn’t lost a lung?

I wonder if all the money that she spends at the gas station on that tiny cardboard box was saved instead of spent, if she could manage to pay the bills before the late notice arrived in the mail.

How many times do you think she tries to quiet the change being pushed around the tabletop as she counts out the quarters, the dimes, the nickels, the pennies before she has enough to slide the coins across the counter at the station?

How many times is her anger thrown at me because nicotine is absent from the house?

I can only imagine the color inside her chest, protecting her lungs with a black tar after too many years of flicking a flame to a thin white candlestick stuck between her lips.

The house smells of smoke and the yellow filter lines the walls, around the frames that hang themselves by nails.

I clean the mirror and see the paper towel golden from the lingering tobacco.  My clothes reek of a stench so strong no amount of perfume seems to be enough.

I’m paranoid that every time I’m in a room of people and someone mentions that it smells like smoke, if they know I harbor such a scent that I pour it off second handedly as if I inhale the drug too.

I open the mailbox and the temptation to “lose” the coupon booklet addressed to her grows stronger.

The business cards labeled with a barcode on the back subtracting a dollar off when you buy two packs strengthens the urge to scrabble up the silver coins or summons the question, “do you have five dollars? I’ll pay you back when I get paid on Friday.”

Friday never comes.

I often think about how much longer it will be until all the money spent on tiny cardboard boxes will be split between tobacco and medical bills.

How long can you smoke a pack a day and still be cancer-free?

And I wonder how it’s fair to watch your mother gamble with her life each time she places a thin cigarette between her lips.

Russian roulette with cancer is a game she’s become too good at.