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Aug 2019 · 349
Father (verb)
Jonathan Aug 2019
Father (verb)

1) to take care of
Someone who needs you;
To teach someone how
To end up better than
You did

To form a bond that
Starts a cycle of
Collective growth

2) to scorn and intimidate
Through verbal degrading,
Lack of support/love

To force someone to be
Better than you by
Necessity to grow
Aug 2019 · 226
poet (verb)
Jonathan Aug 2019
Poet (verb)

1) to search for words
That don’t exist
To try to describe
the indescribable
To feebly attempt
Making sense out of
the crazy world around you.

2) to never stop
Writing;
To forget how to
Let go of a pen
While simultaneously
Learning how
to let go
Aug 2019 · 249
human (verb)
Jonathan Aug 2019
Human (verb)

1) to utterly ****
something up… and
Then learn from it

2) To fight without
End; to become better

To strive for a better
Tomorrow than today

3) to lose yourself,
And everyone else in
The process, as you
Spiral and deteriorate

4) to **** up
Or
To waste 20 years
learning that it’s
Ok to do so.
Aug 2019 · 276
unapologetically me
Jonathan Aug 2019
I’m not who I wanted to be
I am the sum of my broken parts

This is my acne
These are my scars
These are the creaks and cracks of my joints
This is my unrelenting back pain
This is my hypertension
This is my hypermobility
This is my loud mouth
These are my blind eyes beneath the glasses
This is me

I am not who I wanted to be

This is my living hell
This is my loss of hope
This is my lack of will
This is me giving up

And this is me dragging myself
out of the gutter
with the help of
some words

These are the words
I’m using to breathe
Myself back to life

The words I’m using to breathe
Cause it’s been too long since I have

I’m not who I
Wanted
To be

But I am me.
And me is who I
want to be

And me
Is me
Is me
Is me
And me is ok

This is my face
My acne is allowed

This is arm
My scars were a mistake

These are my joints
They creak and crack
But they try to keep me standing

This is my back
It holds my pain
But still keeps me straight

This is my hypertension
It causes my pain some days
But it reminds me of the work I need to do

This is my hyper-mobility
It causes my joints to do what they do
But it gives me some fun party tricks

This is my loud mouth
You can judge if you want
But it lets me speak my truth

These are my blind eyes
But under the glasses
They’re pale sky blue
Is unbeatable

This is me
And me isn’t perfect
But me tries
Every day
To keep me afloat
In this rocky boat

These parts are broken
But that doesn’t make me broken
I could use some work
And I always need a helping hand (fixer-upper)

I am more than broken parts
My sum is greater than these parts
My flaws don’t define my worth

So here I am

Standing in front of you
I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to stand

But I can still sit in front of you
I can still be in front of you if I can’t stand
And my legs don’t stop me from writing
My back doesn’t stop the power my words hold

I still need to figure out who I am
But whoever that is
I’m proud to know him
I’m proud I’ve made it this far
I’m proud I was able to live and love and laugh
I’m proud to know some of the people I’ve known
I’m proud to be me
And I won’t apologize for that


-unapologetically me
Aug 2019 · 191
2:00 am shadows
Jonathan Aug 2019
2:00 am,
The shadows
Begin to attack
Like clockwork

The shapes in my mind
Project themselves
to nightmares;
Even wide awake

the silhouettes of
the most
terrifying
demons I own

I cast a whimper
Of light from the
Most terrified
Parts of my being

But they are
Drowned out
By his
Memory

Him
The monster
in my systematic
“Fairytale” wreckage

Him
The words I
Dare not say
To stay whole

Him
The actions that
have already split
Me into fractions

When I look at you
All I can see is his
Shadow splayed
Across your face

Across
the walls
The ceiling
The floor

His voice echos
Through
The stairway
The hallway

I’m stuck in
His house
No matter
Where I live


I’m not afraid
Of the dark
Just the absence
Of life
Aug 2019 · 189
knots (massage therapy)
Jonathan Aug 2019
My back
Is tied
in knots

Each nerve-ous
Connection screams
As they unravel

The first time
It’s touched
It sends
Shock-waves
Through me

As if it were
Afraid of
It’s own ability
to unwind

It is pressed
pushed
And pulled

In vain
Attempts
To fix
Me

But it simply
Sends more shocks

With each rotation
You feel the crunch
You feel the crack
Under the pressure

You feel your muscles
Creak
As they stretch

You feel your tendons
Pop
As they bend

The pain screams
No
No
No

But you know
The pain
Is wrong

If you never
Suffer the pain
It takes to fix this
You’ll never know

The relief of
What it feels
Like when the
weight
Is finally gone

When you can
Be touched
Without flinching

When you can be held
And have one less reason
to cry

Sometimes pain is needed
To fix old trauma

And pain is still pain

But as tangled as I am
I would try anything
To unsnarl myself

-knots (massage therapy)
Jul 2019 · 192
dis-functional
Jonathan Jul 2019
Dear Dad,

The next time you call me
An *******
I might become one.
If I do, I will be the epitome of everything I have repulsed
The entity
I would do anything
To be the opposite of:
You.

The next time you step up
Inches away
Grappling my arm
With a dense, puffed up facade of masculinity
I-might-Snap.
Not that violence
Would really make a difference
What-so-ever
But
*******
It
Would
Feel
Good
To
Punch
You

In
The
Face.

I am only capable
Of  t h i s
Because of  y o u
When you taught me how to be a “man”
There was a mistranslation
Somewhere along the line I learned to repeat
“Masculinity” and  “Violence”
On the same line
On the same page
Of a book I would read
Too many
*******
Times
Dear Dad,
Tell me everything is fine
I dare you
Tell me what you want, but
The next time you kick me out;

I
Am
Not

Coming
Back

-dis-functional
Jonathan Jul 2019
After him
Life feels
like a masquerade
Like I have to search
Everyone
To find who they are
without their mask
What scars and hideous features
lie beneath
What they aren’t willing to show

he hid everything
And I didn’t search his face
deep enough
to see the lines
where his mask ended
and his face began

                                        so
                                                                                                                                                                                                i
                                                                            blurred
                                                                                                                                                                                 the
         Lines

Time passed as I started
to wear a mask of my own
I thought I was like you
I thought I had to hide my scars
When I should have asked for help
I thought I had to hide my face
and what calamities lie beneath

But none are quite as ferocious as I believed
the most evil parts of me are born out of old wounds
And dulled by a little bit of love and elbow grease



Dear me,

Honey, come out of the shadows
Take off the mask
Show us all your scars
Let us help you heal
Let us help you
Let us be with you
Let us care
Let us in

And we’ll do great things in you

And most of all

Show us that smile
Cause you’re gonna need to practice
for when it all turns round
Cause I guarantee you
You’re gonna need it

Sincerely,
yourself and your allies (you have more than you know)

-hello gorgeous, you know we love you.
Jul 2019 · 145
devised movement 1
Jonathan Jul 2019
Devised movement
A system of choreography
Follows an idea,


There are three worlds,
Three moments
That exist in
every action

Before the touch

-The tension you feel when you look him in the eyes before you kiss him
When you don’t know what you’re doing
But you want him to be “happy”


During the touch

The instant you kiss him and realize,
You made the wrong decision
The instant
Where movement and regret
Flow seamlessly together
Two words on a page
Like love and loss
Like skin and bone
Like shallow and deep

Like my lips and yours

We were star-crossed
Yet our fates
Were so viciously
Intertwined

Two words on a page
Like yes and no

after the touch

The moment where I chose
the ladder
But you disagreed

You decided
My kiss
Was enough consent
And you didn’t stop
You didn’t slow down

the moment
Where no meant nothing
But nothing was no big deal
And no was nothing
Because no wasn’t enough
And nothing else gave “no” meaning
So no became yes
Even though no was supposed to mean no
And I didn’t know how to fight “yes”
I didn’t know how to stop you

So my no stayed to being my no
And my no stayed to being your yes
And we agreed to disagree
And you told me no didn’t matter
after you kept going

The moment,
When my world fell to pieces
When I lost track of what went where
When I fell so deep into my head
That I didn’t know my own name
And I didn’t know your name
Or what you looked like
Or what I looked like
Or what we were wearing

I disappeared from the present
to resist the memory of
You
Staying in the future

It took me 6 months to remember what shirt I wore
It took you showing up in an old message to remember what you looked like
And it took me 8 months to remember
That even if you disagreed
No meant no
And no
meant no
meant no
meant no

And no meant
what you did will stay with me forever
And no meant
what you did to me
Will never be anything other
Than a painful memory

I finally titled you act
Finally titled you

You were no longer a partner
No longer someone I used to know
No longer
Someone who hurt me
Someone who showed up on facebook
You were my ******
You are my ******

And you will live with that title until the day that you die.

-devised movement, I
Jonathan Jul 2019
I’ve found,
as I grow

Or rather
as I degrade
My mental health


Or rather
As I begin to
spoil

Or rather
As I go through
More and more
Abuse

Or rather
As I go through
more and more
Partners

Or rather
As I go through
More and more
And more
And more,

I begin to wear masks
that don’t belong to me

I pick up bits and pieces
Of who I used to be
And try to put it back together
But I can never find
all the pieces

So I add in
Whatever fragments
I can
to fill the voids
And finally make
a semi-cohesive
facade

-more and more as I get older, I like to play pretend.
Jul 2019 · 111
devised movement 2
Jonathan Jul 2019
Devised movement
A system of choreography
Follows an idea,


There are three worlds,
Three moments
That exist in
every action
(to: Ellie)

Before the touch

The moment when I look you in the eyes
With no intentions
And realize
Just how much I love you
And just how little
I need to clarify that that statement
Comes platonically.
The moment we hang out
With your little sister
And I realize how far I have come
In my recovery
And how much I’ve matured into paternity
And personal capacity for love

During the touch

The moment when I hold both of you in my arms
Holding on tight
to one of the closest realities
I have to family
The moment we catch each others glance
For the second time
And both of our eyes scream that
This is meant to be
That I am her brother
And she is my sister
That blood doesn’t matter here
That nothing holds me back from being
the second best little brother she could ask for
And an amazing second big brother this little girl
Nothing stops me from
Setting an example for these strong beautiful women
Who have given me so much inspiration

After the touch

The moment when your mom comes in
Turns on every light in existence
Blinds us
Then offers us snow cones
(she’s definitely mom)

The moment I am
Reassured that I love all of you

                         -side note, to your trans brother (your actual brother)-

Oliver,

Never let anyone tell you you are not a man

Because you are more of a man than I have ever been
And the older you get the more proud of you I am

Good luck
We all love you.

-Devised movement, II
Jul 2019 · 169
4:00 am thoughts
Jonathan Jul 2019
I have dependency issues.
I imagine
to my friends,
This will come as no shock.
But I’ve recently begun to understand
How  I cling to the people in my life desperately
As if they were my only lifeline
And how unhealthy it is
it leads to overstayed welcomes
and long hugs (that they don’t enjoy)
I send late-night texts trying to confirm that they care about me

My mom never really gave a ****
Even the times it seemed like she did were just to bring
down the impact of her manipulative behavior

To normalize my abuse

it worked

She only slapped me twice
But she taught my brother how to hit
so much harder

I never realized there was anything wrong
I thought this was what everyone lived with.
I’m still so used to taking care of myself.
That I have a hard time
Admitting it’s my parent's job

“I’m 14, I can handle myself”

that’s how I tried to convince CPS there was nothing wrong
After I told a teacher that
I should be kept away from high places

It was a joke

When my earth is crumbling I shade my sun with a red and blue moon.
I hope the hues of comedy
will mix to form a perfect periwinkle
But instead the contrasting strands tie me in a
mismatched world of juxtaposed emotions

Ups

And

Downs


Gas-lighting teaches you a binary world
I see no nuances of gray
Sometimes the whites, and bright vivid colors can be alluring
But the pitch-black is inescapable
And every time I see it coming
I cling to any affection I can
The moment someone gives me attention, I fall for them
Just in time for them to lose interest in me
Leaving me perfectly ready
to crumble to a  
m i l l i o n    p i e c e s  
at my next obsession’s feet

-4:00 am Thoughts
Jul 2019 · 120
electricity
Jonathan Jul 2019
Her voice
Is smooth as silk
Soothing as a rainy haze
The stunning force
That collected the stars
in the night sky
before my eyes and ears

Her smile
Bright as the moon
Effervescently flows
through the emptiness
between the stars
Making the sky whole again
Making my  sky
Whole
Again

Her music is a breath of fresh air

I’ve been suffocating so long
I’m finally taking a moment to
Slow things down
Soak in the beauty
she shows me
so effortlessly

Her voice
Is what my words aren’t capable of

Her smile
Is infectious

Her beauty
Is flawless
I would fall for her any day

-electricity
first in the "electricity meet rubber" series.
Jul 2019 · 129
meet rubber
Jonathan Jul 2019
She is a friend
Nothing more
But more importantly
N o t h i n g
Less

A friend

And I’m glad
I still get
to listen
To her voice
And see
Her smile

Because

Even with her
Having a partner
I’m allowed
to smile back

Even without her
Being more than
her
I’m still allowed to enjoy
her presence
And that’s
exactly
what I’m going to do

thank you
\
-meet rubber
second in the electricity meet rubber series
Jonathan Jul 2019
your capacity for compassion
Alludes and astounds me
Every
Day

When I see you
even
If only platonic
My heart
Still
Pounds for you

I could hold you
For hours
With no
ulterior
Motives

I want nothing more
than to care for you
The way you already
have for me

I cannot thank you enough
Thank you for being you
Thank you for being a friend
Thank you for being a beacon of light
Through a long stretch of tunnel
With nowhere
Near
Enough
Daylight

You
And your
beautiful passion
Exceed
And transcend
All preconceived notions
Of the human experience

the way you look at me
after each song we share
The way you let me rest
My weary head
On your shoulder
The way you
press
The dimples on my face
Stretch my lips
and pin my brows
The way you form
The most authentic smile
I’ve had in years

You really are a
work of art.

-I did say your smile was infectious
final in the "electricity meet rubber" series
Jul 2019 · 120
platonic lust
Jonathan Jul 2019
Words cannot
describe
How profoundly
I need a hug

I need an embrace

A warm harmony
A love without ***
A platonic valentine

I want a
Connection
that goes
d
   e
      e
         p
            e
               r
                 Than
                    S k i n

I want a meaningful conversation
over coffee and tea

I want someone to sit down with
In a room full of our favorite music
But no words
A quiet bond
Over the words
we read
The life
We lead
And the air
we breathe

I don’t know who you are
but I love you

And I want you to hold me
Forever

Nothing else

No expectations
No intentions
No lust

I just want you to hold me
until the tears stop

-platonic lust
Jonathan Jul 2019
Dear Sam,

I
am taking back
my tank top
I
Am  wearing it
without
fear
And
I will
continue to wear it
until it
loses your scent

This is how I finally put an end to your memory

These poems, these words are how I finally
end this chapter in my life
And move the **** on
because I have plenty
of pages left in
my
book

-final remarks on the man who ****** me(over)
Jul 2019 · 88
experimental suicide
Jonathan Jul 2019
I want these waves to swallow me whole

building a catalyst from your own cataclysmic life events
Often resolves the ****** of your will to live
Leaving less than there’s ever been
Ergo
I want these waves to consume me

They’ve already flustered my mind
Shouldn’t they also remove this body

I want to get rid of this tote bag
This rough and tumble canvas bag with defective straps
Woven with a little less love than the rest
It is only home to old words I’ve already read
And old wounds that haven’t healed
This body contains too much yet it is null and void of anything useful

I don’t want these broken pieces

Ergo
I don’t deserve them
They hold no use to me but
Someone else can make better use of them

So cut me up
Into small chunks and pieces
Limb by limb
Take my heart that never properly loved
Take my lungs that struggle to breathe my dense air

Give my heart to someone who will pass on what love it can hold
Give my lungs to someone with thinning air
Give my limbs to someone with working joints
Give this tote to someone else
Let them read the books I already have
Let them fill
this tote
with new stories

give my parts to someone who needs them

I don’t want them anymore

-experimental suicide
Jul 2019 · 95
pouring the gasoline
Jonathan Jul 2019
I still can’t catch a scent of vinegar
Without smelling your house

again

I still can’t walk across a tacky, veneer floor
without being trapped

Again

Like a rat

prying myself out of this glue trap because
I fell for the little chunk of cheese
you dangled in front of me

I still can’t wear that
Tight
Grey
tank top


Without feeling your bare arms
wrapped around mine

Your lips
pressed against mine
I might have kissed you

but
I
D i d
N o t
W a n t

What Came Next

I told you
we should slow down

I told you this was a mistake

You said:

“We’re
teenagers,
We make mistakes
That’s what high school
is for,
We do stupid ****.”


I guess we do

-pouring the gasoline
Jul 2019 · 116
Wrong reasons
Jonathan Jul 2019
The social contract
****** me
Even harder than you

I had time to put clothes on
before the hour I spent
curled up on your couch
Before falling “asleep”
Two feet away from your side
of the two couches
we conjoined
To feel
“Attached”

We got
Too
*******
close

Clothes didn’t matter
Laying on that couch
I felt more naked than
I
ever
had

No matter how many layers I wear
how many blankets I wrap myself in
how many pillows I hug
to clutch anything other
than you
I still feel naked
every day

-wrong reasons
Jonathan Jul 2019
“Don’t say sorry say thank you”
A breakthrough in my recovery

I want to apologize to you
I know I ****** up
And  you didn’t
deserve what that did to you

I know I hurt you
I’m sorry

But I need to stop saying sorry

Framing myself as your abuser
Blaming myself for everything

When we both know
You
were a part of
T h i s
too

When I am the one
who hurt you
I have
to hurt me to make
hurting you
Ok

I wear the crown of the victimizer and victim together.

And at that expense

No

I cannot say sorry
anymore

So allow me to rephrase

Thank you for letting me into your life
Thank you for your affection and love
Even if it went sour
I appreciate you enduring the trials we went through
Even though
we weren’t meant to be
But we had fun

So thank you
Thank you for playing a part in my crazy ****** up journey
To becoming better
I hope you were able to
Enjoy some part of the wild ride too

-I left for the wrong reasons
Jul 2019 · 23.1k
Red Flags
Jonathan Jul 2019
We chased a feeling
not a reality

We both wanted someone
So desperately
that we found each other

Even though no part of
us
worked

Our pieces didn’t fit together
so we pressed and jammed them
until they were stuck
and stayed that way
Until
we broke

-red flags
Jul 2019 · 101
Pyropoet
Jonathan Jul 2019
I’m turning
these old ruins
into ballads

I’m storing away the ache
of these scorch marks
Slathering them with words
And wrapping them tight in allegory

I’m turning my flames into verses
Learning how to heal
Through means of
Vulnerable
exposure
of me

Who I am
Not
Who
I wish I was
I’m
        putting
                   Down
                               My
                                         Matchbook
                                                                And
                                                                           Picking                                                                                                                                                
                                                                                          up
                                                                                                   my
                                                                                                             Pen



                                                 (reminder)

I lit the match

But you poured the gasoline


So here’s to recovery

-Pyropoet
the last in the series
Jul 2019 · 106
Pyromaniac
Jonathan Jul 2019
At some point,
even if
you
lit the match
You’ll lose control

I thought I
could handle the flame

But it grew
far too tall
far too fast

it burnt down everything
I wanted to protect


Maniac (noun):
A person characterized
with inordinate or ungovernable
enthusiasm for something

An impeccable analogue
to my apparent
Affinity
For chaotically destroying the things I hold dear

                   (reminder)

I lit the match that set the world ablaze
That set my world ablaze

-Pyromaniac
the second of the pyropoet series
Jul 2019 · 117
Pyrotechnic
Jonathan Jul 2019
The world around me
Is set ablaze
So I learn
To control
the flames
that engulf me


Fire
is only
Scary
When you are not
the one who
lit the match


So I lit the match myself


-Pyrotechnic
the first poem in the pyropoet series.
Jun 2019 · 148
one more step
Jonathan Jun 2019
I  melt quietly
Bracing against the barrier
implanted
on the edge of a pier
The crisp cold chill of the ocean breeze
Slaps the bare skin of my arms
A beautiful night with
A looming threat
You can’t quite put your finger on

Quiet space
No weight
No intentions
no motives
No expectations

Then it jolts

The vacuity
Silent yet so loud
Heavy
Clear intentions
Clear motives with
Clear expectations I will never live up to

How can nothing bruise so deeply
If by definition it is the absence of everything

it lingers above my head
I can’t get the voices out
I’m not good enough
I shouldn’t be here
I don’t deserve this
I could stop it all now


From fifteen feet above

I can feel the rapid waves grasping me
I begin to understand the power that this water holds
Yet instead of wanting to back away from the ledge
I suddenly want to
dwindle into that hole
Let my friend’s pay the toll
I  want to dive
headfirst into the hollow
Find out how fast I can lose tomorrow

To dip your feet into a pool of nothing
And hope to gain  something
Is a  pathetic, analytic seminar on how
  to punish
those you won’t admit love you

-One more step
Jun 2019 · 324
Fine
Jonathan Jun 2019
I‘m  F.I.N.E


               ****** up,

                                         insecure,

    Neurotic,

                                       ­                    and Emotional.
                      
    
But beyond a cheap self-deprecating joke
You and I might have a very different definition of
F i n e

To you,
fine might be scraping the surface
Or untapped potential
Knowing you can do better
  you have just enough money to make it by
You have just enough food on the table to survive
You are certain you can pay your bills this month
You just might pass on  netflix to get by
or you won’t go out with friends because you can’t pick up the tab

You
Are fine

To preface my point
This still isn’t a great place to be
and I’m sorry that you have
to just scrape by every day
Having fun should be a part of life
But at least you are stable
You at least are fine
You at least are

To me,
Fine
is digging deep

To me,
Fine
is a barrage of  pedigree hate

To me,
Fine
is not knowing if I’m gonna spend the night on my friend’s couch
Because   h e   beat me up
Or   s h e   told him to

To you,
Fine
might be safe

To me,
Fine
is whatever I think I can handle before I grab the bottle

To me,
Fine
is a measure of how bad **** can get before I grab the blade

So the next time you ask me if I’m   f i n e
And I say yes

Doubt me

Call me late at night
Don’t let me drink
It’s not the right kind of medicine

Follow me home
Don’t let me touch that knife
again

And if I don’t make it
If I couldn’t make it to “fine”
Even by my own delineation
It isn’t your fault
I just can’t seem to settle on the definition of a word
whose weight
I never quite understood.

-fine
One of my favorite pieces I’ve written. Backwashes feelings from a Time when things were much worse than now.

— The End —