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3.1k · Sep 2014
Last Confession
Tracie Bulkley Sep 2014
I'm the next act on stage.
It's about ******* time all that needed to be said
Finds a way to get out.

So here's the thing:
I've made mistakes
I've ****** up a lot, and I'm willing to admit that
Because every ******, I learn from it
Unfortunately sometimes it takes more than once.

So my first big ******:
I made love.
18 years old, questioning everything
ANGRY for the first time in my life
Really truly ANGRY
Like I've never been before.
So angry at a God that presumed
To ask everything of me and give nothing back
Who took and took and took and took
And let others take from me, from others
Especially women, a long long time ago
And maybe they were stupid
And maybe they were awful people
And maybe they deserved it but they were STILL PEOPLE
Still women
Still girls like me
Scared and lonely
Hungry for an outlet for all of the ****** passion
That had built up inside.

So I was mad
And I felt alone
Except for one thing
He who I now look back on and wonder what
My rational brain could have seen
In a hundred thousand eons of pain and suffering and loneliness
What it could have seen in a rat
In a **** like him
But he wasn't that bad
I'm just angry

We made love
We loved each other
And I had anger
So we made love.
As if loving each other made it alright
Because what they never tell you in Sunday school
What they never really get across with all the
"Shou shalt not's" and "Don't touch that's"
About chastity
What they do tell you is don't do it
But they never ******* tell you why
Because it isn't going to last.
It really just isn't
Even though you think it will
Put that stupidity aside and see for JUST A SECOND
It won't.
Just assume it wont.
And you'll be with someone else
And they'll be hurt
They will actually be ******* SHATTERED
That you didn't save anything special for them
That you have nothing to give them that you didn't first give to someone else.

So yeah, I left.
I'm usually the one that leaves.
Out of 10's or 20's of loves
I'm the one that usually loses it first
Except for twice...
Nah... Nah now it's thrice.
And I loved again
And left
And I loved again
And left.
And at one point I felt sorry for what I did
But nah, that was an illusion
Brought on by the tears he wept when I told him
I had nothing left to give only to him.

Then I met another Him
And I told him early because
I was SO SICK AND ******* TIRED
Of having to hide what I had done
Pretending to feel guilty about making love
To a little **** who I loved once
But no, he wasn't that bad
He didn't know any better
I'm the ****. I am.

So I told him
And he got scared
But then he came back...
Oh my god he came back, I thought he would leave.
And he held me tighter
And he loved me more
And he forgave me
He moved on
He trusted me
But back up a little.

And breathe.

His name was Hunter.
And when I met him, I was dating the guy I thought I would change for
And a week later I left.
And I immediately got googly-eyed over Hunter
But also someone else.
His name was Collin.
Collin got to me first, because,
Crazy thing
He seemed more mature
And like he could handle it better if I didn't want to be attached yet
So I told him I didn't want anything serious
And we made out.

And then I started falling more for Hunter
Because Collin was a one-upper.
And Hunter was sweet and interesting
Intelligent in speech
On our first date
We discussed Neitzche in a ****** local burger joint
And he was beautiful
In my life I don't think I will ever find Adonis in the flesh again
And eventually, after trying very hard
I got him to kiss me
God how he kisses is like tasting wine
And has the same affect on my mind
And excites my body beyond what I've felt before
And that lasted the whole time I was with him
It still hasn't gone away
To this day if he kissed me
I think my cells would fly apart with joy

Now here's where my shittiness comes back in
And makes everything confusing
So I was making out with Collin one night
And Hunter the next
And I told them both
I ******* TOLD HIM
"We are not dating."
I said that.
Exactly that.
Meaning there is NO commitment
NO expectations
YOU can do whatever you want with whoever

Eventually Hunter persuaded me to be his girl.
So I basically just started ignoring Collin
Stopped making out
Stopped hanging out
Stopped talking pretty much
So I could be with just the one I had COMMITTED myself to.
And we were happy.
Until I told him.

Then he was hurt.
He felt betrayed
Even though I ******* TOLD HIM
During that time
He felt he had claim on me during that time
Just because he had kissed me
He said "I wish you had told me how little a kiss means to you
I would never have ******* kissed you."
And I got ANGRY
And then you know what?

I said I'm sorry
I said you're right
I said "I put his feelings before yours, that was wrong, and it will never happen again."
I should've never done that.
I didn't do anything wrong.
And I gave him power over me
That no one should ever have.

We spent the last month or two
In despairing bliss
Knowing that at the end of the college semester
Which had been so short
He would go home to Georgia
And I would return to the mountains
And I had played the long-distance game before
And would not do it again

I should have just taken what I could get

So the last day, we helped each other pack
We cried
So much
Into each other's shirts and shoulders
Hearts breaking but hopeful
For a promise
I promised him
That at the end of the summer
We would both be available
So that we could try again

So I cried my way home
And he took his plane
And we Skyped until 2 his time every night
After about another month
The usual sadness and loneliness hit
Being home is bad for me
I lose sense of up and down
As I feel my wheels spinning on the ice
In the freezing summer between springs
I missed him
So much that I felt empty
I ached and hungered and died every day
Though it was nice to see my old friends again
But the worst thing happened
I remembered that I like flirting
And I had already ****** up once

Why not do it again?
Three more times?

For two months I didn't make love
I ******
Cuddled for a bit with a friend
Then he'd admit he liked me
I'd tell him I wasn't going to date this summer
And he'd get hard
And he'd get insistent
"We can just be friends with benefits"
He'd say
He genuinely liked me
They always did
One even said he loved me
I had no such emotion for them
I just wanted to not feel so alone

So we'd cuddle, talk, kiss, ****,
And I'd go home every time still empty
Still cold
Still alone
And sad
And guilty
And for two months I wandered around in that hell
Wondering why it wasn't getting any warmer
Wondering how the **** I was still alone
With all these men that wanted me so bad
And every night as I fell asleep I thought about Hunter
Oh God... I could never tell him
No, he would never understand

And he didn't.
When I finally told him
Not because it was any of his ******* business
We were not dating
There was no commitment
No promises except that I'd be there in the end
We kept admitting love for one another
Which was a mistake in retrospect
But he had no right to feel such claim on me

The worst part was that he had asked me over the summer
And I had lied and justified
And gotten angry
SO ******* ANGRY at him
Every time he got suspicious
And I got angry
Because I was guilty
Especially because it wasn't helping
And all I wanted was him

So I told him
Not because he had a right to know
But because I finally trusted him enough
And wanted no secrets between us
Wanted one SINGLE ******* PERSON
Who I could show my whole self to
Tell everything to
Just one
And I wanted it to be him
And he was angry

And oh god for days he was angry
And every night he made me cry
Because I told him to let it out
That it might help
So he called me *****
He called me ****
He called me cheater
He told me that nothing meant anything to me
That nothing was special to me
Nothing physical would ever be special or worth anything from me
But... But I still don't understand
That was important to me
That was everything to me
And I had given it to him
I don't understand
Why he walked all over it

That's enough
I can't talk about this anymore right now
Ask me again another day
Just not right now

Alright I guess I should anyway

So the last month of summer
I was with no one
I spent every night Skyping him
Every night either crying in the hurt of his angry words
Or singing my love and praises for him
And when he went on a trip and couldn't call me
I took pictures and screenshots every night
To show him I wasn't out again
I was at home
Waiting for him

A month it went on like that
Until it was finally one week before school
I drove down to the college, picked him up
He greeted me at the door and I lept into his arms
And he held me and we cried
And there was love
And I felt complete
And I could finally breathe again
And the gasps wracked my body with pleasure and pain

I took him and we spent a week of heaven
In my home in the mountain
He met my family
And they all loved him
And we talked
Once in a while there would be a sad moment
But he said he'd try
He said he loved me
And I had hope...

Why didn't he try?
He left me when we got back to school
Why didn't he stay
I don't understand
I've tried so hard
I've mended fences with God
Hoping he can help me
But it's taking time
And it doesn't mean anything to Hunter
I told him all of the truth
All of it
And laid myself at his feet
Just asking that when he was done abusing me
Done being angry
Done with his vengeance
That he would love me
And keep me
And stay
But he left
I don't understand
I tried. So hard.

And I can't let go of him
How can I?
I invested my whole self in the warm and golden dream
Of lying in his arms at night
I changed myself to be what he wanted
I changed my mind to match his
What more could I do?

Don't I deserve forgiveness?
Haven't I earned just one last chance?
2.7k · Nov 2013
Hazel Eyes
Tracie Bulkley Nov 2013
A shadow with darkened eyes.
She's fine. She says she is just fine.
Her lips say everything is right.
Even her eyes have learned to lie.
But the sunlight strikes the lenses,
And just once she lets me see, just once,
The hazel wound behind her veil.
She begs for me to understand,
But fights so hard to blind me.
Just for a little while I see
The quiet acceptance of a dying world,
A growing, inexpressed hatred of mankind.
A terror of inadequacy, never being enough.
A silent resignation of just how much less she is.
Resent for the blame, the debt of an unknown people,
A plea to just forget the shame of her own sullied hands.
She's dying for someone to know,
To have no more to hide,
To abandon logic and composure
And forget what is expected, which she cannot fulfill.
Who says that she is now free?
Who can claim she was ever bound?
But reason makes her stop,
And pretend the world's alive.
To hide her weakness deeper
In order to survive.
To illuse the populace to thinking she rose above.
She steps out of the sunlight.
The glimpse is gone,
Her insecurity erased.
Once again, a paradigm of confidence and self-worth.
The mask is on, the shroud let down.
No one could ever doubt her.
No one will see the child with hazel eyes.
If you asked her, she'd deny it.
Just a child with hazel eyes.
Even in confession, she finds a way to hide.

I have left the mirror.
1.5k · Jan 2014
Empty Walls
Tracie Bulkley Jan 2014
It always seems to go like this

I swear
I swear up and down to God above
Never again let the walls come down
Never again succumb
Never again to trust
Never more

I watch
I watch helpless as a single man
A man who swears to love me
A man who says I am forgiven
A man who wants to heal me
A real man

A single man
A single man who touched the walls
The walls, they shivered
The walls, they crumbled
The walls, they tumbled down
The walls came down again

A paradise
A paradise of calm and peace
Faith in man
Faith in love
Faith in the future
Faith to be

Just words
Just words that ******* me
Not meaning to hurt
Not meaning to scar
Not meaning to break the trust, but...
Not kind either

The walls
There go the walls
Up again, around me
Up again, surrounding
Up again, between us
Those empty walls

I watch
I watch helplessly
You didn't mean to hurt me
But you hurt me nonetheless
Oops, there go the walls
Up and Down
To God above
There goes the walls again
Back up, inside my empty walls again
1.3k · Nov 2013
Blank Page
Tracie Bulkley Nov 2013
There's this blank page in front of me
And I'm supposed to fill it up with words
Thing is, the emptiness of the page doesn't inspire me
It frightens and intimidates me
*******, blank page,
Fill yourself up with angry words
And god-awful sentiments
I don't have time
I got too much of too little inside my gut
To fill you up like an empty ****
Just like me, yeah
Ain't you just like me
Another empty **** on a blank page
Having to apologize and cry your eyes out
For the one and only person who you showed yourself to
One and only who touched you
And held your naked soul against his
The only one who dared to fill you
Like I fill you now
That ******* who had the gall
Yours loved and left you
But I was the leaver
But that ******* had the nerve
To try and ******* me as I left
And I knew I KNEW
Knew it wasn't right
Knew you couldn't be the one to hold me all night
With all of your anger
Your lack of sympathy and empathy
And human compassion
You were sweet just for me
But you'd watch the world burn
Just to satisfy your moral pride
And self-righteous concern
So go on and wonder why I left you
And I'll try to change myself
Yeah, just a couple of *****
Making love on blank pages
There's somebody here worth changing my life for
Worth the infamy and destruction of telling
Telling the world about the **** on blank pages
But words are thick
Melted glass that stumbles and slips and tumbles
Crumbling all over the ground
It echoes the sound of my own voice
Accusing myself for making my own choice
For choosing the wrong
The bitter for sweet
But who are these people to tell me to beat it
Why should you decide my worthiness
Or the sincerity of my penance
****** why do YOU get to send me away
When I've already got Hell to pay
Just to the ******* who I left in Hell
And the angel who's trying so hard to save me from myself
******* bishop, cardinal, preacher, God and law
You're all just a bunch of blank pages
Empty ***** of all ages.
Just let me live
Let me die
On the back of this blank page
Let no one turn over
And no one will be shamed.
1.1k · Jan 2014
No Title Fits
Tracie Bulkley Jan 2014
The first time I sat down and wrote
I was just a little girl
Eleven... Twelve?
What a terrible thing to happen to a child
I read Bridge to Terabithia and wept bitterly
I just couldn't understand why anyone had to die
So I tried to turn it around
Have a story rewrite itself into perfection
But I quickly discovered the ending
That endings are the healing after heartbreak
And without the pain
There is no satisfaction in the ******
No release after the buildup
No rest after release
And it just made me notice
But that's not what I want to talk about just now
That's not the kind of mood I'm in
No, I'm in the kind of thrall that's only present
When you've already lost it all but almost no one knows
When you thought you knew how
And you thought that you could do this
But no one's sure you did it right
And no one really cares anyway
When I'd rather rave and rail
Thrash against the pain
And scream against the chains I know I wear
But cannot see them with my eyes
And who do I believe out there
All they say
The mysterious, murderous, undefined "they"
They say that good is evil, and evil good
And sin is art and art is something you can judge and **** and curse
And no two sides will take my side
Because there is no spectrum
Just a line you cross or do not cross
But I think I must exist somewhere
Lost between the infinitely small sides of the invisible line
And the middle ground is me
But there is no middle ground
Just a little girl who thought
That she could write her misery
Out of existence when she burned the pages
The pages of the Bridge on which she died
1.0k · Nov 2013
The Noble Man
Tracie Bulkley Nov 2013
There goes a noble man.
Stepping down from glorious crests
To rejoin thousands in name.
But only in name.

A man of many words
And softly spoken treasures
Of piercing eyes, and deep perceptions.
Though not without his humble admirations.

There stands a secret hero.
No one fully knows the good he's done
The power of the words he's said
Or the strength he's lent to one.
The courage that was never mine to use.
Given, nonetheless.

There speaks a patient knight
With sworded words
He kneels behind his shielded faith
And prays beside the armored horse.
He's always safe from coldest fear,
Safe in his suit of armor,
Armor made of softest black and white.
1.0k · Nov 2014
Dear Garet Hawley
Tracie Bulkley Nov 2014
I'm sorry
I'm afraid I read your poems
Every single one.
(Except not, because I only got half way down before I felt like a creep.)
And I liked most of them
And the ones I didn't,
I refused to like (out of fear of being a creep)

I'm very, very sorry.
Each one I read broke my heart.
Here, I've made a mess, let me pick up the pieces
I'll put them away just as soon as I've said what I need to say
And you won't have to see them anymore.

I'm sorry,
I cried too much
Over absolutely nothing at all
I've never met you in my life
But when I read
"Letter to the Setting Sun"
I was hoping the whole time it was secretly about me
Because there are 26 letters all jumbled into different patterns
In that letter
That describe every thrum that has hit my heart since I was 13
And old enough to wish I was in love.

I'm sorry,
I've gone and made a fool of myself
But I thought you should know that your words are capable
Of breaking and mending a heart at will
Be careful with that power, and use it well.
She's a lucky woman who gets to hear the rest.
And no worries.
This is a love song, but not that kind.
But by God one day I'll have a poet like you
Or -- God will it -- one day I'll BE a poet like you.
Sorry... I'm not a creep... But when I read your poems, sometimes it felt like I was talking. Apparently you're capable of saying everything I've ever wanted to say, but ten times better.
774 · Jul 2014
Tracie Bulkley Jul 2014
Dear God,

Why don't you love me?
Everyone tells me you do.
Everyone tells me you will
Everyone tells me you will as long as I'm a good, good girl.
Well I'm not a good girl, and I'm not terribly sorry.
Everyone tells me you love me anyway.
Why do they say it over and over
You never do.
No, you never say "I love you, Tracie."

No, not in my ear
No, not in my holy books
No, not in my heart.
No, no, no.
Not once does it say
John 3:16
"I love you, Tracie."
Not once.

You're supposed to love me.
You're supposed to be my daddy.
I have a daddy, and he's real.
He's here.
He's with me all the time.
He tells me every day
"Tracie, I love you.
You are my cupcake princess."
Daddy says he loves me.
Aren't you supposed to be my daddy too?
Matthew 5:48
Daddy why don't you love me?

Why can't you HEAR me, Daddy?
Can't you hear your aching child?
Can't you hear the cries within me
Of your little one lost in the dark
When the voice of her father has left her
Without compass by which to navigate?
Don't you hear me when I curl up inside
Knocked to the floor on my bed
Holding myself close in my apartment
Screaming in my soul
"Daddy, why won't you protect me from the monsters
From the demons in my head
From the eyes in the dark that come to me at night
When I can't sleep and they tear me apart
Because they're coming from inside of me and
No one else can see them in the dark
Turn on the light!

And the darkness answers nay.

One day it won't hurt.
One day I'll stop caring
One day I'll stop hating you
Because I'll have stopped loving you
One day I won't be afraid.
You don't have to love me, I suppose.
If that's what you want.
And one day I won't hate you for it.
You don't have to love me
Just never ask for me to love you either.
759 · Nov 2014
Get Better
Tracie Bulkley Nov 2014
"Get better" says the roommate, hugging you before bed
"Get better" says the mother to her ailing daughter
"Get better" says the little child to the dying man

"Be better" says the God to his child

I've tried to be better, really I have.
I gave up sins and lies
I'm keeping my body to myself
Keeping my lies inside and letting the truth spill out
Upon all the people I wasn't ready to trust it to
"Get better" says the priest to the sinner

I've tried to make myself better
I gave myself every medicine in the cabinet
No, I promise that's not literal, it's just a metaphor.
I took some truth, to help me sleep at night
I took some blame so he would see me cry
Maybe he'd believe how sorry I am if I cried again
I took some words, and gave some back
Hoping that if I drank enough
Of what he had to say
And puked out all that was inside of me
Maybe there'd be room enough for peace
Or love
Or forgiveness
Or by God, relief
But now I'm just empty
And aching to binge again
"Get better" says the doctor to the bulimic

I've tried everything to make it better
I've wrapped myself in praise
Twisted my mother and father around my fingers
Pulled my friends into my darkness
Because they can't quite pull me out
But there is just two more coverings I need
Or true love
And can't quite reach for either
"Get better" says the passerby to the shivering lost one.

I have cancer
Not really, I promise that's a metaphor too
I'm dying
But seriously, just a metaphor
I'm cold and weak
And puking everything everywhere
All the time
Thinking it'll feel better
But tomorrow there's always just another load
And more poison to fill the space with
"Get better" says the man to his cancerous wife

"Get better" is what you said to me,
Pretending that you still care.

"Please get better"
Says the dying to her life.
749 · Nov 2013
The Perfect Woman
Tracie Bulkley Nov 2013
Her hair is long.
It flows like cascades over cliffs.
It curls lightly,
The softest curves of clouds.

Her skin is pure caramel and cream.
Smooth. Unmarred.
Silk to the touch, but warmer.
Friendlier. Comfortable.

Her nails grow evenly.
Long, and sharp.
They never bend, or break, or tap.
She rounds them perfectly, and they never catch.

But her eyes.
Her eyes are walls.
You only ever see irises.
Irises and calm.

Her eyes are claws.
Raking, tearing daggers.
Piercing points.
Glistening teeth in deep, and gaping maws.

Her eyes are war.
****** battlements.
Arrows, spears, swords and shields.

Her eyes are fierce.
Her eyes are cold.

Isn't that what you wanted from me?
To be the perfect woman.
700 · Feb 2015
Of Air and Earth
Tracie Bulkley Feb 2015
She’s perfect, isn’t she?
That girl in front of you.
Barely finite lines of gold and ochre
Pure as thoughts from her head
Luna-cloaked and markless
Kohl and oak descrying
The haze and high of your waking breaths
Both in substance and in pleasure.
Just what you always wanted.

Not me.
My brief and ebon-neared lines
Murked by impure hazes
Luna-pocked and touched
Kohl and oak, but too-hard trying
A breeze, gentle and cautious to remove the dream
And give truth tangibility.
Much too real for you.

Snow-goddess shoulders covered
Just because you possess them
Luna-soul untouched, unseen,
Just for your security
Empty breathing, nodding crown
Ensynchroned, timed, with yours
Every face, and every line
Unbroken marble replica
Of air

How dare I.
Goddess shoulders bare as when I please
You could not possess them
Luna-soul unsecreted but,
Before you and your battering, unashamed
Swimming, messy, living within my crown,
Out of step and of my mind
Every inch, an inch of mine
How dare I be unbroken art
Unbroken art of Earth

Of air.
Twisting 'round your fingers
Curved into your body and your brain
Bent whichever way you opt to bend her
Over, under, and around.
Into pain and pain-ed pleasure
But always pain in pleasure and pleasure from pain
Both and neither
Either and physical or transcendental
Always and never in your purpose
Rarely and often from your desires.
And she's so willing, the wind.
Servility incarnate
Submissive, crawling, pleasing unto you
Easy girl
But only to your touch
Lest she be a *****.
Formless, unreal shadow,
But somehow air that no one else may breathe.

Of Earth.
I awoke in formless panic in a cold bare room
After heart-pounding, frozen-dreaming
Of how you left me in numberless shades
Of black and blue and gray
I had terrored and cowered
Wondering if my strength would crumble
Ever seeing you on your knees.
Not because I fix on that
Just because I felt afraid.
Because you never laid a finger on me
No, you never had to
The Luna's cloak will mark itself
When the core is hollowed cold.

Yes, so perfect
Is she?
Just the way you like her.
Insubstantial, shapeless
No rigidity or life
Submissive, satisfying
Yes, the daydream on your screen
That you try to say that you don't need
Is everything that your earth desires
For she is air and you are dirt
All that the breeze can give to ground
All that nameless women can give to you.
664 · Nov 2013
Paper Dolls
Tracie Bulkley Nov 2013
This girl named Genie, she's very real
You cut her, she will bleed
She plays with paper dolls all day
If they follow, she will lead

Late at night when no one sees
She'll bring out her paper dolls
She likes to cut them up, you see
And hide their pieces in the walls

But scissors cut her fragile skin
I've seen what they can do
And when she bleeds, the blood is thin
and looks a lot like glue

Genie is a paper doll, I think
Her face is thin and fake
She tells a lot of lies to me
and says it's for my sake

And funny now to think of it
There's not a promise she won't break
And when she needs the money
There's not a cent that she won't take

So tell me now
What to do with paper dolls?
Cut them up, of course!
And hide their pieces in the walls

It's ok to cut up paper dolls
And hide their pieces in the walls

All we are is paper dolls
Hiding in a house of plastic
Putting parchment on the cuts we give ourselves
Living out our lives of lies while guided by our own two hands
The hands of greed and guilt
All we are is the lies we tell ourselves before we sleep at night
630 · Sep 2014
Secrets Told
Tracie Bulkley Sep 2014
I'm empty

Hollowed out inside

All that was inside

I've carved it out

Piece by piece

All bleeding on the floor

Until there's nothing left for me to give you

Until there's nothing I have left to give you

That is special and untouched

I used to be just like you

Kisses were like secrets

Best shared little

And given in the dark

But when I wanted to give my first little secret away

He had already given his

And it angered me

So I drove him away

So far that he was frightened

And we never really spoke again

How could he?

How could he.

But I had learned my first lesson:

That it is better to forgive a secret told,

Than to drive away the teller forever.

And one day I told my secret

And later, wondered why

What had I seen in my confidant?

I should have saved it longer

So I thought I'd do much better next time

So I told it again

And again

And again

And one day I gave up on it being secret anymore.

It wasn't a big deal,

It didn't matter anymore,

Because I and others had treated it that way

And I had never been sure.

Then one day I trusted someone

I wanted to tell him a secret

But the only secret I had left to share

Was one that was very big

And very special

And I should not have given it away.

And in the end

It happened again

My secret told,

I gave up on meaning

And told,

And told again.

And now I have no secrets left

To give to you my dear

I even told you all my lies

And all my truths and fears

And I'm grasping

Reaching for anything

And everything that I might have left

I'll give you all

Again and again

And I'll take it all

All the words

And anger

And fear

I'll lie down and take it all

And while you and I both beat me senseless with our words

My every breath will be

A wish upon the stars in my eyes

That you will one day see

How much I love you

And all you mean to me.
I hope the moral of the story is fairly obvious... Any words of comfort or advice are appreciated.
590 · Dec 2013
The Weakness In Me
Tracie Bulkley Dec 2013
My love is all tangled up in my desire
Twisted up like flaxen rope in barbed wire
When our hands touch, warm and innocently
The spur of desire wants your hands all over me
When I taste your mouth on my lips
That's when the bridle on my passion slips
When my mind takes control and my thoughts run away
I know I'm still in that place with nothing left to say
Does anyone know that the line between right and wrong is so thin
Does anyone know temptation quite like the one who's already given in
571 · Nov 2013
Longing Like a Child
Tracie Bulkley Nov 2013
Tell me about Germany
Is it warm?
Is it beautiful?
Is it far?
What are the people like?
Are they all like you and I?
Do they greet each other in the streets
And smile as they pass each other by

Tell me of the British Isles
Is it clear?
Is it bright?
Is it wide?
How do they tell of your history?
How do they speak of their pride?
What do they say were their greatest falls?
When were the times the children cried?

Tell me more about the Northland
Are there mountains?
Are there plains?
Are there lakes?
Do you love the sky?
Do you cherish the hills?
Do you miss the breezes
The clouds and the chills?

Tell me about your home
You have a mother?
A father?
And siblings?
Are they smart?
Are they caring?
Do they have stories
That are worth sharing?
Do they love you?
Do you love them?

Tell me more about you
Where you're from,
What you're like.
There's a whole great world
Just obscured by the boundary of the sky
That I've never been let to see
That I've yearned for
Longing like a child
Wide-eyed and wondered
Reaching for stars out of reach
I want to see them!
To hold them in my hands!
And you are in that great, wide, world
That arms could never cleave
I've always been so close to home
Far too young to let and leave

And sometimes I will be cold
Scared and insecure
I've just never been so far from home
So far from home before
But I am not afraid to see
Not afraid to know
Not so scared to quench the fire
Of my curious, childish soul.
558 · Apr 2014
Little Scrap of Paper
Tracie Bulkley Apr 2014
Her nightmares are rare
But they are fierce when they’re there
When she wakes up in tears, it’s not like nobody cares
But she’s a giving soul who knows inside
That they all need their rest
She won’t call him late at night because
Tomorrow he must be at his best
Still, in desperate need she reaches out
Into the darkest deeps
To her nightstand drawer, where from months before
So tenderly she keeps

A little scrap of paper
Torn around the edge
All marked up and scribbled on
With his handwritten pledge
To love and to hold
Written out in number code
She knows she’ll never be afraid
As long as she can hold it in her hand
The little scrap of paper from her nightstand

Their little fights don’t happen often
But it takes time for her heart to soften
When she goes away in tears, she wonders if he cares
But she’s a loving soul who knows inside
That she just needs a break
She’ll cry until she’s out of breath
And her head will start to ache
Then in desperate need, she will reach out
From the coldest, darkest deeps
To her nightstand drawer, where from years before
She secretly still keeps

A little scrap of paper
Torn around the edge
All marked up and scribbled on
With his untarnished pledge
To love and to hold
Written out in number code
She knows she can’t be angry long
As long as she can hold it in her hand
The little scrap of paper from her nightstand

And the years fly by
And the flowers die
And the winter presses in
Still the snow can’t harm her
He’ll keep her warm with the
Page of his heart that he gave
Yes words last far beyond age’s curse
When written on the note he slipped in her purse

Her nightmares are rare
But they are fierce when they’re there
When she wakes up in tears, and knows he isn’t there
But she’s a patient soul who knows inside
That she’ll see him again
He’s the only reason she still talks to God
Because God will give him her “amen.”
Still, in desperate need she reaches out
From the coldest, darkest deeps
To her nightstand drawer, where from ages before
She still reads, and she still keeps

A little scrap of paper
Frayed around the edge
All stained dark and wrinkled up
Containing his undying pledge
To love and to hold
Written out in number code
She knows she won’t be lonely long
As long as she can hold it in her hand
The little scrap of paper from her nightstand
535 · Nov 2013
Tracie Bulkley Nov 2013

-A banshee scream-

Joyless laughter
The kind that stems
From quiet cruelty
And unnoticed pain

Wretched heat,
Like a wool blanket over your head.
Jammed corridors.
Endlessly, endlessly moving

They won't look in each others' eyes.
They fear the recognition
Someone might know, if they look in their eyes,
The fear
Snakes, all of them,
Every one.
They might strike
Strike at weakness.
But don't let them know.

They fear the intimacy of human contact.
So they pretend.
They don't smile
Or greet
They look at the wall
Down the hall
At anything
Anything that cannot see them
Cannot recognize.
No recognition.

And they go on
Singled and Isolated.
One purpose.
Fearing human love,
Love which is so confused in listlessness.
And we go on
Despising all that we are.
514 · Nov 2014
I'm Not a Projection of You
Tracie Bulkley Nov 2014
You told me I'd be the one to leave when things got hard
Then walked away when I needed you most
I guess you just needed to be the one hurting
So you wouldn't be the one getting hurt

You told me you can't trust me anymore
Then tore my heart up every time I let my guard down
I guess you can't trust me to let you anymore

You told me I'm an angry person
Then couldn't forgive me for something that wasn't wrong
I guess I'm angry that being your ***** wasn't enough.

You told me I didn't really change my heart
Then couldn't even change your mind
I guess you like to project your can's and can't's on me
That's okay
I'm not you
And I'm not who I was
And you think I didn't need you before?
I'm not who I was
And I don't need you anymore
487 · Nov 2013
Can't Do This Today
Tracie Bulkley Nov 2013
Legs, arms, mind, soul.
Everything is sore.
I'm stretched to all my limits,
And still you ask for more.
I'm lacking the ideas,
The energy, the strength
To jump through all your hoops today,
Or go to such great length.

I can't hold up the sky today,
I'm already lifting the land,
And somebody went and put the seas
In my other hand.
Then someone taught me to juggle,
So I added another ball,
But then I tried to ride a unicycle,
And crashed into a wall.

Even if you say "pretty please"
Or put a grade on me,
Try as I might, I simply cannot
Count both the sand and sea.
There's barely time for work,
And just forget about play,
And I simply can't do this today.
487 · Nov 2013
Call to the Hopeless
Tracie Bulkley Nov 2013
I see all this suffering, this pain and guilt
And I just can't stand to see it all, that's just not how I'm built
I'm built to hold, to comfort and fill
The empty spaces, to stop the pain and the ****
The **** of the everyday, the sufferer, alone
If that's who you are, I got one thing to say: that you're not alone.

I've had it so easy, so smooth in my life
My parents are in love, together, my brother's a student, my sister's a wife
And a mother to healthy, living child
I wasn't pregnant in high school, haven't smoked, drank, or ******
'Cause none of that's worth it, I don't need it, never have.
Not much in my life to hide from, to fear.

But I can FEEL the pain of loved ones and strangers, and whoever is near
When they're near to death of body or spirit
I can sense it, it makes me cold
Makes me want to cry
To steal the closest person in an embrace
When was the last time someone held you, and told you the sun would rise again
Or noticed how STRONG you are
You've made it so far
Don't you ever give up
Don't you ever stop trying
Don't you dare
If not for you, then for me, you can't stop me, I'll care
Care for you, even though I don't know you

Doesn't anyone notice
Doesn't anyone feel
All these PEOPLE around them
How afraid they are,
How tired they are every day
Won't somebody STOP it all?
These people are dying
Dying a little more every god ****** day
Isn't there something you can do?
Isn't there anything I can say
To make you believe
To make you understand how much I love you
How badly I want you to live
How I want you to prove to me that this world is still alive, still trying
PROVE to me what I already know

You are strong
You are loved
You are worth every second.
475 · Oct 2014
Tracie Bulkley Oct 2014
I don't understand
You said nothing was special to me
So I gave you everything to make up for it
Then threw it back in my face
And said it wasn't good enough

I don't understand
How you jacking off to pictures
Of women more beautiful than me
While you were still with me
Is not as bad as me
Using dudes for comfort
When you aren't even there

I don't understand
How with one breath you can say
"I love you"
And with the next
"I can't trust you"
And then call me a princess again

I don't understand
Why it's so normal for me
To spend all day being held by you
And cry myself to sleep every night

I don't understand
Why it's harder to like myself in the mirror
After you
Than it was before you

I don't understand
You wanted someone so dependent on you
That if you left their life would fall apart
And then won't believe it
When I am that person

I don't understand
How you don't see that you're using me
The same way I used others
When you were far away
Because I make you feel better
I won't let you keep taking
When you refuse to give any back

God help me
473 · Nov 2013
In Innocence
Tracie Bulkley Nov 2013
When did my walls become my barriers.
My fortifications became my prison.
The comfort of stone shifted into cold iron bars.
Why must the world be just beyond the glass?

When did innocence become a sin?
Why must weightlessness be heavy to bear?
Why must what I need, and what I desire exist
On opposite sides of the mirror.

And I can just see you.
See me. Just out of reach.
Just within the camera lens.
Just within the negatives of film.

But who would I be in black and white?
On the reverse side of the mirror
Where left is right, and right is wrong.
Who am I in the negatives?
I wouldn't be me.
That isn't me.

Too bad, though.
'Cause me just isn't good enough.
465 · Nov 2013
Epic of Amara
Tracie Bulkley Nov 2013
Amara is sleeping.
She's dreaming.
Not dreams of her future,
But of her many pasts.

She's dreaming of a time
Before time mattered so much.
Days before roles.
Before acts.
Before stories.

Vignettes of time before
Captains, kings, or allegiances.
When loyalties owed only to friends
In the shape of paws
And Stars Sent from the stars.

And then from the stars,
A star fell
And a second past emerged from the rubble.
Shea, Lilacs, and Azure Mist.

She dreams of when she ran away.
Away from this past.
The first.
But not the last.

Amara's dreaming of her fresh start.
A third past.
The promises,
The oaths,
The rules that came with,
The mistakes she wouldn't make,
And the slips she would not repeat.

Then allegiance arose.
Fealty to Duty, Honor, and Glory
.But no stranger to human weakness,
It ended in broken promises,
Tarnished honor,
And a second flight.

She fled from pain
But found neither comfor
tNor relief.
And she forgot long ago
Why she ran a second time,
To spend an Era alone.

Then her demons came.
A fourth, and uncertain life.
When the Hero in Black
Cast them out.

But the Hero could not banish them forever.
Too soon to be spared,
The Child of Dark Hair

Amara is dreaming
Of when she swore
Never returning.
Promised herself freedom.
And explored the world of the demons.
Twice she made the promise.
And twice she broke it.

Now she is awake.
The sole survivor of her visions.
She is cold
To know only she is left
To remember the dreams.

She fell from the stars.
She ran from the mist.
She broke the promise.
And in many ways,
She killed the Hero in Black.

Only she remains
To remember the colors
Of her four pasts
Within eleven dreams.
461 · Nov 2013
The House On Morris Street
Tracie Bulkley Nov 2013
The door swings open on creaking hinges,
Reminds me of the flame that singes.
I see the inside
The way it was the first time I was here.
I want to leave, this place is still too near.
Upholstery shredded on the ground,
A missing piece that was never found.
Someone tried to bring the life back in,
But they didn't win.

I left this house for a reason.
I locked the door so I would not return.
I set it fire, because I couldn't bear to watch it burn.
I'm here again.
Broken glass is on the floor,
I've been here before.
Broken glass and one locked door,
I didn't like it here before.
You know I liked it here before,
In this house,
This house on Morris Street.
453 · Nov 2013
Letter to a Father
Tracie Bulkley Nov 2013
Dear Dad,
Can I please come home?
I know I've only just arrived,
But already there's so much that I've survived.
This place is nothing like where I'm from

Hey, dad, people are not kind.
I've had doors slammed in my face,
Used, broken, and I've been replaced.
I've been dropped, I've been forgotten,
and I've been left behind.

Hey, dad, I know I can't remember.
Still I miss you and my mother,
All my friends, and my big brother.
When will I leave this time of endless December?

Hey, dad, I know that I'm not ready.
I haven't learned, I haven't sweat,
I haven't lived enough just yet.
It'll be a little while before I am quite steady.

Love you, dad.
You always make things better.
Tell brother I miss him,
Hug mother, and kiss them.
I always look forward to your next letter.

Love Always,
Your daughter, Tracie.
428 · Nov 2013
Tracie Bulkley Nov 2013
Looking back
The things I regret the most
Involve everything I didn't do
And all I couldn't be.

I wasn't brave enough,
So I never let you know.

I wasn't careful enough,
So I never made it right.

I wasn't smart enough,
So I didn't understand.

I wasn't humble enough,
So I never asked to be taught.

I wasn't good enough,
So I couldn't make you want to stay.

I wasn't strong enough,
So I couldn't hold back the words today.

So what did I do this time?
What have I done now?
I already know that I ******* it all up
All I want to know is how.
When did I misstep?
What was wrong with me?
How could I have done better?
What do you want from me?
What I want is not to want
to be exactly what you want.
420 · Nov 2013
The Killing
Tracie Bulkley Nov 2013
As his life gives way to silence
As you shame him with your eyes
All you think you feel is justice
You believe in your own lies
And when you lie awake in bed
You'll rest easy in the night
Because the record says you're innocent
And that all you did was right.
But have you ever stopped and asked yourself

Wouldn't you have done the same?
Wouldn't you have done the same
Knowing that you could take the credit,
Someone else would take the blame
Knowing all he'd said and done,
Knowing who you'd save
Knowing that you would seem a hero
To put one man in his grave.
How can you rightly blame him?
Knowing you would have done the same.
420 · Nov 2014
Educate Love
Tracie Bulkley Nov 2014
"Clearly you didn't know what love was before you met me."
That's what you said to me.
What a load.
Let me tell you what you taught me about love
And how wrong I know you are.

You taught me
That it's okay to judge everyone
You called them all weak
You called yourself weak, too,
But acted like you were somehow better.
So you didn't do anything to help others
With their weakness
And you never overcame yours.
Well I know I'm weak
But I'm stronger now,
And I'm not done trying.
You made it harder for me to love
All the beautiful people in my life
Because you had me feeling
Like if I didn't agree with you when you said
"Gawd, she's bossy"
Or "She needs to start running"
That you'd judge me too
Call me a *****
Or a feminazi.
Well that's over now.
I know you're a judgmental *****.
And I don't have to smile and nod anymore
Because I already lost you.

It's time for me to love again
Exactly the way I knew how
Before you ******* me up.

You taught me
That the worth
Of love and affection
Is based only on it's rarity.
You taught me that withholding love
Makes it "special"
And "meaningful"
And that is contrary
To the very nature of love.
Love, the boundaries of which
Are expanded only upon
Its giving, freely
And liberally.
I could have loved you
So much more
If you hadn't tried to shrink
The boundaries.
You made it harder
For me to love.

That't not right.
And I am going to love
Exactly how I knew
Before you.
My ex got jealous every time I showed affection to anyone other than him, and said that because I hugged a lot of people, my hugs "didn't mean anything to me." And that's wrong. The person they really didn't mean anything to was him. So **** that guy.
405 · Feb 2014
Tracie Bulkley Feb 2014
I'm so ******* confused
By you
All you people
You stupid
******* judgmental people

You sir!
You're first
Step right up
And sit your *** down
Because I've got something
To say to you
All your dark and brooding
You never smile
And hell, you never even
And barely acknowledge
My existence
You said you wanted me
Well shut the **** up
And come get me
I'm finally free now
And you didn't even
Speak up
Now you're ******
You have no right to
Hate me
You wonder why I
Let someone else
Chase me
And you act like you have
Some sort of God-given right
To be the only one to
Well too late
Little boy
You couldn't get off of
Home plate
Shy guy
So while nobody else is
Getting home
They've made steps toward
First base
And you're still sitting
Grumbling on the bench

You're next
See here's the thing
When I'm taken
You all are like
"Be free, break up,
No way you
Are ready for this"
So I listen
So now I'm free
I'm free and flirting
And flying and
Having shitloads of fun
And now I'm
"Leading them on"
"Playing with hearts"
What is the ******* point
Of being "free"
If I have to restrict
Who I flirt with
And who can flirt with me
Maybe I want to
Make out with all these guys
Maybe I don't believe
I owe anything
To anyone
Least of all to you
You ****** don't even care
If their hearts are broken or not
You just hate
That I can keep them all
Here's something you ought to know:
I give a **** if their hearts break
And that's more than I can say for you
This isn't a game I'm gonna play anymore
New rule:
I'll give a **** about who I want
Now on
And I'm all out of
***** to give tonight.
346 · Nov 2013
Still Me
Tracie Bulkley Nov 2013
I'm still me,
I'm still me,
Added on to.
Just... Added on to.
An aspect of me that once was strong, then buried has been revived.
But I'm still me.

I've always been me.
The same twisted, sickly me.
Just... covered up now.
The arsenic filling, coated in chocolate, sprinkled with sugar.
But I've always been me.

I have regrets,
A few strong regrets.
Hidden well.
I just... Hide them so well.
Maybe if I try so hard, I'll find strength to reject the poison.
But I too, have regrets.

Your words made me doubt.
A twinge of fear.
Just... A hint of despair.
Wrestling, clawing, tearing, banish my disbelief, before it devours my faith.
But your words made me doubt.

You could just do it.
You COULD do it.
One fell swoop.
A word could end it, my heart and soul are weak.
You could do it.
But could you, should you,
But you wouldn't...
Would you?
346 · Mar 2014
Broken Ken Dolls
Tracie Bulkley Mar 2014
------------------------------------------------------> I felt his perfect, plastic hands
               |                                                              As they touched my bleeding lips,
               |                                                                                           My broken arms
               |                                                                                    My blood-eagled ribs
               |                                                                                  He put me in the chest
               |                                                                               Buried me six feet under
               |                                                                        And never dug me up again
               |      Each pair of hands has its own set of Barbies or Kens
               |                               Just to play with every day
I found this room once                                                             |
In my secret home of dreams                                                  |
The room looked like my childhood                                       |
Just like it                                                                                   |
And these dolls                                                                          |
They lined the walls                                                                  |
Ken dolls                                                                                    |
Dozens upon dozens                                                                 |
Of my pretty little Ken dolls                                                     |
My dears                                                                                    |
Beautiful, each one                                                                    |
Blondes, brunettes, even one or two redheads                         |
Some brand new                                                                       |
And some showed little signs of wear                                      |
Little signs of having been loved by me                                 |
Tiny marks of minor hurt                                                        |
Some with little scratches on their arms                                 |
One with wing-shaped claw marks on his back                    |
Many with bleeding lips                                                          |
In the middle of the room                                                        |
There was a dirt hole in the floor                                            |
A chest,                                                                                     |
And a pile of broken dolls                                                       |
Oh, these were once my lovelies too                                      |
Four little beautiful Ken dolls                                                 |
Bleeding lips, open chests, and broken arms                        |
One by one                                                                              |
I placed them, gently as I could                                              |
In their tiny coffin                                                                    |
And buried them deep in the senseless earth                         |
Beneath my feet                                                                       |
Standing, wiping dirt from my hands                                  |
Hoping I could never have cause                                           |
To dig them up again                                                              |
But I glanced around the room                                          &nbsp
I genuinely want to know, can you guys basically tell what this is about?
332 · May 2014
Almost Drowned
Tracie Bulkley May 2014
You don't get it... Do you.
You don't understand what this means.
The fact that you won't even look for help
Won't even try
Thinking you can muscle through it on your own
Like you did last time
Well this isn't last time.
It went away last time.
What if it takes longer this time
What if it takes just a little longer than you can stand
Just a little longer than you can bear
What if it doesn't -go- away this time

You don't understand
Why I'm so scared for you
Why the thought of you trying to do this without help
Without any of your friends around
Without me there
Without a single pillar of support
How the **** are you going to manage that huh?
I'm not saying you're not strong, but Jesus, Hunter, can you even remember what it was like?
I do.
And I wasn't even there.

I remember
Because I was there for you before
You... But a different you.
A different you, in a different town with a different name
But I was there

You don't understand why the thought of you going through this knocks me to my knees at your feet
Begging, pleading,
Praying in earnest for the first time in years
That you won't be so ******* proud...
That you'll put down your defiance and accept help,
That you'll ask for what you need rather than allowing yourself to sit in the dark and suffer an ignominious death of self in the oppressive silence of solitude...
That you won't be alone...
That you won't do it.
That when the silence has totally deafened you to my words of affection and reassurance, that when the winter of solitude has numbed you beyond the point of feeling pain, or passion, guilt or redemption, or the will to live, that when the sun has burned out, and falls to the ground at your feet, never again to shed warmth in your world or mine,
That you won't kick it aside...
That you won't do it.
That you won't pull that trigger, nor take the longest one - step walk you've ever seen.

You don't understand why I'm afraid
I was there before.
When you were a sweet and happy child
Knowing no pain that could not be fixed by wrapping it in band-aids but,
Suffering the awkward throes of early youth, you found the darkness of every man inside yourself, and before you could look away
It had embraced you.
Then I saw
For the first time I understood
What the books meant when they described someone as having "empty eyes"
As being "gaunt", or having features that are "sunken and cold."
I saw you struggle
And I saw when you gave up
I watched you, Hunter.
I watched you drown.
Slowly, I saw your eyes lose the light of life and warmth
Felt your hands turn stiff with blood turned cold
I watched someone I loved die.
He's alive today.
But he died.
I saw it.

You don't understand.
I drowned a little every day
Every day I tried so hard to keep your ******* head above water, but you had stopped fighting
Stopped thrashing against the icy waters
You GAVE UP, ******...
And I almost did too.

Have I ever told you I'm afraid of drowning?
And here you are again
Stepping into the same water.
I can't keep your head above the waves.
I can't do it, not on my own
But you won't ask for help.
Why don't you cry for help, why don't you TRY?!
And all I can do is be here treading water, watching,
Floundering helplessly,
Once again watching you drown...

Do you understand? Do you know why I'm afraid?
329 · Aug 2015
Dear Ex I
Tracie Bulkley Aug 2015
Dear Ex, The First,

I haven't spoken to you since the day I cut you off from me
Occasionally I have wanted to, but to do so would only dredge up darkness.
So all I wish to say will be here, in case you ever find it.

I'm sorry it's been years.
I wanted to say you were right.
Right about a lot of things.
You once told me I'd grow up to be ***-crazed and wild.
Well I was, for a while,
But not for the reasons you thought.
Once for love,
Thrice just to not be alone.
You said you never forget your first love.
Well I haven't forgotten.
I've ignored, and I know I don't love you like I did,
But I've never forgotten.
You said I would stop believing in God.
I did for a while,
But not the way you expected.
I believed He existed,
But, for a while,
Did not believe in Mercy or Justice.
I found them again
Turns out they were just lost, not dead.
You said that you and Jacqueline were together
And that she didn't like me talking to you
That's part of why I never spoke to you years later.
I sometimes wonder if you got married.
I sometimes wonder if you still remember me
Or think of me.
Remember that poem I wrote the day I went away?
The House on Morris Street?
I think you misunderstood what it meant.
You were angry and hurt.
I don't think you understood
I burned down the House on Morris Street
Because I couldn't bear to watch it rot away
As you and I both knew it would one day.
I still look you up sometimes
Just to make sure you're still OK.
If you wanted to say something to me
I wouldn't ignore you
But if you didn't
I wouldn't blame you.
Just please be alive
And please be happy
I recall much more happiness you gave me
Despite the sadness in your soul.

The Little Paladin
323 · Nov 2013
In the Heart of Drowning
Tracie Bulkley Nov 2013
I have to hold them up.
I will NOT let them down.
It will **** me.
I know.
I've accepted it.
I will not allow them to follow.

The water is cold in my lungs.
It stings, like shards of ice.
All i want to do is scream,
But water doesn't make a sound.
It's heavy, and quiet, like snow.
Like curtains.
Like fur.
Like the silence that comes after the splashing,
When the water wins.
It always wins.

I can't see the light overhead.
I'm so far down.
They're gone.
I know they're gone.
They stopped fighting.
What am I for?
I still won't let them down.
There's still a chance.
But I know there isn't.

I've lasted longer than I thought I could.
It took longer for me than them.
Even when I held them on my shoulders.

I can't breathe.
My god, I need air.
Let me out.
Let me out.
I cannot breathe.
It hurts.
I didn't think it would hurt.

It wasn't the water.
It was never the water.
It was the heaviness.
It suffocated me.
It got them too.
What am I for?
What was I ever for?
321 · Apr 2015
Tracie Bulkley Apr 2015
I'm a horror fanatic
Because if I can outrun the shadows of dusk
Maybe I can run away from the possibilities
That tear at my slowly dying dreams.

I'm a gamer
Because if I can save the world
Maybe I can save myself

I'm a reader
Because powerful emotion
Is a drug that heightens
Rather than dulls the taste of life

I'm a writer
Because it's the one dealer
That feels good about what he's selling

I'm a fantastic lover
Because someone once told me I was worthy of hate
And it's the one way I know
To make him a liar

I'm a great make-lover
Because the height of satisfaction
Lies in another's perfect joy

I'm a healer
Because I've been a hurter

I'm a fighter
Because a healer has to be.
308 · Feb 2014
Anxious to Fly
Tracie Bulkley Feb 2014
I was warm in my illusion
Gentle in my aching
A layer of clay kept the words at bay
A cover of glass across my eyes
Now the wind blows all my warmth away
And my hair leaves stripes of blood on my face
As it whips and tears at the clay-made skin
That I wake up every day
To wash and to put back in place

I didn't know, I wasn't ready
And though it would still be
Many months or years away
I can't put myself on this path
When I know I'm not sure
That I'm walking the whole way there
I'm too young, too cold
Too timid and too bold
Too sick with the need to fly

I can't go with you just yet
I'm not ready to place this bet
I can't settle down when I just came around
And I'm still just trying to be me
I haven't figured it out just yet
And while I'm so glad that we met
Please don't cry because I need to be free
I'm not ready to say "marry me"
274 · Aug 2014
A Death Died Many Times
Tracie Bulkley Aug 2014
There is no pain quite so keen
As the sound of the word "friend."
For all our souls know
The distinct, and destructive cadence
Of the letters "e-n-d"
Which are both inherent
And necessary
To a good friendship.
271 · Mar 2014
Tracie Bulkley Mar 2014
I don't think you even see
The way I see

I know you see the guys who hang around
You don't see them as I do: Flies around decay
I am the broken blocks and toys strewn across the floor
They are the children who throw the pieces at each other

I know you can't see the twitching, broken fingers
The starving eyes and crazed mind of the addict
Somehow you don't see the way I limp away
Trying to escape the craving for my fix

You contradict constantly
You cannot see the weak, willess side of me
Until another man is mentioned
Then suddenly I am craven and hungry
Unable to resist my urges

What am I, babe?
Am I strong or weak?
And stop changing your mind
Either trust me
Or don't! And let me be.
What do you want to see in me?
244 · Mar 2014
Tracie Bulkley Mar 2014
Don't scream
Or cry
Don't rage
Don't be angry
Leave no place for hate
Because no matter who you are
Where you've been
Or what you've done
To try an assuage the pounding
Bleeding aches of heart and soul
We all have ghosts that haunt us in the night.

— The End —