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trashcanpoetry Dec 2017
dear me in the 8th grade-

you haven’t even realized you like like boys yet.
you haven’t realized that all of those gay jokes are about you
so they don’t hurt your feelings, yet.
you haven’t seen what it’s like to be labeled as something, and also that the same label happens to be what everyone will know you as.
you didn’t realize that accepting yourself a lot sooner would’ve saved you a lot of memories you’d prefer to forget.

dear me in the 11th grade-

you’ve realized that after dating so many girls,
something just wasn’t really right.
you couldn’t pin-point it so you just ignored it.
maybe you thought love just wasn’t for you.
it wasn’t until that car ride with dad that you understood why everything was so confusing.
“be honest with me kid, are you gay?”
“oh ****...”
it was something that hadn’t even crossed my mind.

dear me in my 3rd year of college-

you’re definitely gay.
you’re challenged by the fact that you can’t hold your boyfriends hand in public the same way that your sisters and their boyfriends can.
you hate that dating through apps like
grindr and tinder seem to be the
best way to find “love”.
however, you love the fact that you now know exactly who you are, and you are unapologetic.
trashcanpoetry Jan 2018
I forgot to latch
the door closed when I realized
you were actually gone for good,
only to let all the demons inside.
I should’ve known better-
it wasn’t my first time making that mistake.
trashcanpoetry Jun 2017
BANG; another kid, another life

another dark toned baby
taken away for no real
reason
another mother mourns
over her proudest accomplishment
gone
another brother cries when he
passes that street corner
another sister says nothing...
she is desensitized from
last week's loss

BANG; a different kid, a different life
for a movement that goes unnoticed far too often

Im new to this- please leave me feedback
trashcanpoetry Sep 2017
as far as she knew,
nobody had cared.
x-y-z... straight to the very end.
internal self-doubt
exemplies itself in her head.
traces down her spine,
yells until she just can’t take it.

(now read straight down the far left column)
trashcanpoetry Sep 2017
maybe she didn't
appreciate her own
not-so appreciative friend,
insanity, showing up and
causing chaos
-
doubtful at best,
even on the "good" days.
prescription flavored ******* flowing through her head
repeatedly,
endlessly,
soundly.
so she did what she does best.
incarcerates her own free mind, still
very likely to let to it go in a heartbeat.
endings are too bad, after all.

(now read straight down the left row)
trashcanpoetry Jun 2017
we still meet where the sidewalk ends
my breath still falls flat when I see you
on the other side

the animal in my head
tells me to avoid you
the one in my heart says
go ahead

we both knew that one day our
paths would cross once more
but until then,
we will meet where the sidewalk ends
i'll miss you

this poem has remained unread and untouched for years and I still love it the most.
I'm new to this- please leave me feedback <3
trashcanpoetry Dec 2020
i can still hear you whispering in my ear-
raspy and deep because you smoke two packs of marlboros
every day.

when i come to visit home,
you still look at me like you're scared.
i think it's because you know the power that i hold.

you know that i have had every chance
to tell these people what you did to me-
and i chose not to

not for you
for me.
trashcanpoetry Sep 2017
i hit the blunt again
after it was passed to me
for the fourth time
i said yes to it three
times before
because with
every inhale i felt
more and more numb
i felt my fingers start to tingle
and my chest got heavy
and i was smiling
and my face was warm
and i could feel my
heart beating so intensely
i said yes because
for the first time in
a long time i
was interacting with a
group of people
yes;
because if i had said no,
i wouldnt be high
trashcanpoetry Jun 2017
that was a hard goodbye...
you grabbed my hand so tight
exactly like the first time
i cried about your cancer

cancer is a bad word
revolving around a cynical industry
& plagued with fear and loss
.. i hate that word

you made that word beautiful somehow
you made that word whimper
with the light from your
nicotine stained smile
you made cancer your *****

you told me not be dismal because
"I"ll be here tomorrow"
you told me not to cry because
"We have things to get done"

i still have things to get done
and so do you
i loathe that you aren't here to do them
for my momma, a beautiful soul.
trashcanpoetry Oct 2017
this time last week,
i was curled up in a ball on my bed
trying to get through my latest
mental breakdown.
i did get through it, just like ones before last week.
i'm in a spot in my life where
stepping outside onto the deck feels...
fresh and awakening, rather than debilitating.
going to my class felt new and inspiring,
rather than repetitive.
seeing you after waiting all week felt
euphoric & satisfying.
i'm at a point in my life where
i can start to pinpoint where things started going wrong.
so now, i'm making them right.
i'm thankful for it.
i'm thankful for everyone who helped
me realize that there are
things to be thankful for.
trashcanpoetry Sep 2017
eenie, meenie, miney...
no -
but do you ever feel like yes?
like it probably wasn't your time
to be with him?
but what if you could
make it your time?
like if somehow we could go back
to the very moment you ruined
everything that you had good
going for you
like maybe if that guy would just
hear you out one last time
as if you havent been
begging for my forgiveness
for months
i can pinpoint the exact time
when my world went topsy turvy
and all you forced to do is
live with the consequences of stupid decisions
you made that one night...

the one night that
put out the glow
that beamed from your
soil-colored eyes

that night that deemed your once
textured locks of curled hair into
a mess of your own tangled regret
that took control over my anxiety

that night i "over reacted"
i remember that night so well; better than i care to admit.
i remember crying into the shoulder of the university
t-shirt i gave you,
and knowing that was the last time i would ever
      be
         close
             enough
                  to
                     smell
                         you
eenie, meenie, miney, mo
you're it
trashcanpoetry Jul 2017
she was screaming
at the top of her lungs
but the door was closed so
when i heard her it was muffled
by the drywall

the anger poured out of the
crack underneath the door
and the windows shook

she didn't care though,
nobody heard her
trashcanpoetry Dec 2017
sometimes i let go.
not in the way you probably think,
and definitley not all at once.
i’m not crazy,
even though the chemical inbalance
in my head says different.
i let go a little bit at a time.
first, i let go of the healthy relationships
i once had
down the garbage disposal just like the ones before.
next i’ll let go of my job
and every opportunity
i have worked so hard to accomplish.
i’ll throw away my belongings
and my photographs
and my memories.
i’ll purge my life of every good thing
that reminds me of how good i used to feel and how bad i feel in the moment.
i’ll make mistakes
that seem more like a decision that
needed       to       be         made...

a week will pass,
or maybe just a day or two...
and then i will realize that i just tossed
my entire existence into the trash.
i’ll make everything to be
as close as it was before,
and ill feel **** good doing it.
and then when **** hits the fan,
i’ll
      let
             go.
it’s what i’m good at.
trashcanpoetry Aug 2017
i fell in love with
the way you put your
pen to paper
so smooth, carelessly
and still so thoughtful

i fell in love with
the way you
looked at me when
you were around
your friends
it’s like im the only person there

i fell in love
when you ran to hug me
when the shooting was mid chaos
i was so afraid
but your arms were
radiating comfort

i fell out of love
when you brought
your girlfriend to the dorm
for the weekend
and she got all of
my attention

i fell out of love
because there was
never any love to give
for my freshman year love.

— The End —