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  Sep 2014 Louise
Syd
I guess I was always best at making messes of things like the inside of your chest or the rest of the world. its a lot easier than anyone ever tells you to become addicted to the sick and twisted feeling in your stomach when you hear things like "he lives with his grandparents now" or "she tried to **** herself in ninth grade". cracked ribs and broken hearts are not one in the same. one will always hurt far worse than the other and it's always the one that hospitals can't fix. white washed walls and sterile hallways filled with empty people waiting for their lives to change raspy breath and pale skin I remember going to the hospital as a kid and asking "are there people dying in there?" my mother never did give me an answer. the truth is, there are people dying everywhere. only the lucky ones make it to the hospital. the truth is people die on bathroom floors with a stomach full of pills and a fist full of love letters that will never be sent. people die over the phone choking on a throat full of apologies they'll never spill. people die popping sorrys like pills and swallong broken teeth by eating glass as if it were easier than saying I love you for the last time. we break ribs to make space for people who have no intention of staying and the last time I spoke your name was three days ago in a drunken haze lying on my back and shouting to the moon "I love you more" wishing that it was you I've screamed your name to the raining sky more times that I'd like to say but each day I find myself swallowing your promises and choking on the forevers you ensured me we'd spend together as if you ever even meant it
you didn't
and I can't even ******* breathe because its always been me lying on the bathroom floor with more pills than I should even know exist with a fist full of letters I'll never get to kiss and I still pick up the phone just to hear the busy tone and mumble apologies until I dont know what I'm saying and I'm swallowing ***** bottles and chewing on glass to make saying I love you for the last time feel less like living and more like dying
im dying
im dying
im dying
  Sep 2014 Louise
Syd
yes all women

because people cringe at the word "feminism".
because I am not a feminist, I am a woman.
I am a human being.
because this poem is a one-sided sexist rant.
because I was fifteen years old when my mother first taught me about how to hold car keys as a weapon in case anyone ever attacked me.
because teenage girls are taught to never walk alone in a parking garage.
because in elementary school I was told to switch which side of the street I was walking on while going home if a man was approaching me in the same direction.
because when I was twelve my parents gave me my first cell phone for when I was out riding my bike, or taking a walk.
because I can't wear a spaghetti strap tank top to school, as it will "distract the boys".
because boys are distracted by a bony girl in a spaghetti strap tank top.
because freshmen girls are taught not to date senior boys, instead of senior boys being taught not to go after freshmen girls.
because senior boys go after freshmen girls.
because when I was ten years old I told my dad that my grandfather made me feel uncomfortable, and he got angry at me for making such a blasphemous statement.
because even after I told my mother, and she talked to my father, he ignored it completely.
because my grandfather made me, at ten years old, feel uncomfortable.
because when I was fourteen my boyfriend broke up with me since I "didn't put out".
fourteen.
because by ninth grade I had received my first unwanted and unwelcomed advance.
because I didn't tell anyone.
because school administrators turn the other cheek when a girl is ***** in the stairwell.
because **** charges are being dropped by judges.
because victims are being bullied into silence.
because a hashtag is the most sincere form of activism.
because **** is a crime no matter what color you try to paint the picture.

because I will go to bed tonight, after posting this poem, after telling my story, and I will wake up tomorrow.
and nothing will change.
Louise Sep 2014
instead of doing my work i'm sitting here playing over the way your arms wrapped around me like I was a prize
it's as if you saw my broken pieces and put them back together again all in a few seconds
you smell just like you two years ago when i first fell for you and since then i've had trouble finding myself out of this maze known as your soul
you're my inspiration and the reason im still breathing but
i'm positive that my small hands wrapped around you don't possibly make you feel the way yours make me feel
i thought things had changed since the day we first met but it seems to me that feelings are pouring out of me like the crimson
i watched pour out of my wrist last night
i swore i had let you go but you're like a drug and
im about to relapse
i'm shaking and trembling over the words you used to tell me
every bone in my body aches because i miss you so **** much
the first glance into your eyes was like seeing rain
stream down my window
so mesmerizing and beautiful
you see yourself as a lost boy but
i see you as my directions
because they all seem
to lead me to
you
this is old, so anyone reading and thinking it's about someone it shouldn't be about, you're right.
  Sep 2014 Louise
Syd
I'm lost in the land of whiskey and lies
trying to refamiliarize my hands with your skin
its been months
maybe years
since we've touched
each shot makes it that much harder
to remember
the freckle on your wrist
the creases in your palms
I can't seem to recall
and I was never a fan of alcohol
but forgetting for a night was never as bad
as remembering the next morning
waking to an empty bed and aching heart
breaking bones and throwing stones
didn't even come close
to the relentless pain
washing me away
with the january rain
that made a home inside your veins
and in a way
this makes me miss you more
Louise Sep 2014
tomorrow if i don't wake up
i want you to know you were the one i was thinking of
and i love you unconditionally
always
Louise Jul 2014
it's all a lie you know
staying up until 6 in the morning
pretending everything is okay
and that i'm fine
when my chest is caving in and my throat
is erupting with that feeling
that i'm never going to be okay
again

it's all a lie you know
when i lay in bed all day
telling myself i don't miss you
or how you'd always ask if i was okay
or the way you always assured
me you'd always be here
when you ******* me left
again

it's all a lie you know
when a friend actually bothers
to ask how im doing
and i just smile and say im doing good
because theres nothing
that i should be sad about
so i sit here crying and pretending im okay
because by tomorrow morning
no one will care and i'll have
to pick myself back up
again
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