"feburary" poems
septemeber 2014 i told my dad i didnt want to be alive anymore
in our kitchen, we sat on the floor, he held me and through his tears he told me he never wants to lose me
i think about this all the time
october 2014 my 2 year old brother saw my cuts and scars
he brings me bandaids all the time
novemeber 2014 my mom walked in on my 6th suicide attempt
we stayed up all night driving around, talking about how much i wanted to end my life
she asks me every day how i'm feeling now
december 2014 my step dad found sleeping pills i had been purchasing and saving for 6 weeks
he didnt cry when his only son was born but he couldnt even breathe when he found my pills and confronted me about it
janurary 2015 my step mom drove my to the er when she found my almost dead in the shower
she didnt sleep for 3 days while she and my mom stayed at the hospital with me
feburary 2015 my mom found my journal of suicide notes
there was over 100 notes
march 2015 my grandparents began noticing how bad i was getting
my grandmother stayed at our house during march break with me
april 2015 i saw my favourite band who has helped me through a lot of tough times
i got their lyrics on my body forever to remind me that i'm not my illness
may 2015 my bestfriend and i made a promise to each other to remain self harm free
we promised to help eachother get through our illnesses
june 2015 she was in the hospital for trying to **** herself
i knew i had to stay strong for the both of us
july 2015 i started to work on myself
i started to notice the beauty in things again
i forgot how much i loved the rain
how much i loved flowers
how much i cared about nature and the planet
i forgot how much i loved life
august 2015 i started to plan for the future
i started thinking about 10 years down the road
september 2015 i'm not where i want to be yet, but im so proud of how far i've come
im proud of myself
Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 1:22 AM UTC
if i love you i have made you tea
early early morning whispers & promises
over cups of 3am coffeeandchaiearlgreyenglishbreakfast
electric blanket, quilt, and three pillows {warm goodbyes}
groggy morning ‘i love you’ s
and ‘go back to bed’ s make my heat a little less
cold in this frozen Feburary
a little less sick
and a little more warm
I love you my aurel- my golden child.
the most beautiful boy I’ve ever known.
Nov 14, 2012
Nov 14, 2012 at 4:33 PM UTC
~
The Great Switch Off
*louder in its silence,
than a flicked light switch
in the midst of a midnight-darkened house
more crackling than the slowest
of lasting gunshot resounding re-soundings,
of the ice pond white coverlet shredding itself apart,
by its own voluble volition
I hear the switch
switching off,
the giving-in, taking over,
the surrender negotiations
swift concluded with just those you know,
two words
let the anguish languish,
the discipline,
become someone else's disciple,
just let me be
well familiar this on-off moment,
well recalled from all prior nine lives,
exactly the where and the when was,
I gave up on trying,
but never needed the why
cause the why was inadmissible,
tampered evidence, dampened down,
tainted lies and justifies
tomorrow I'll restart, re-equip,
cause the catching up with lost sleep
a minimum week,
to require, to reacquaint,
with the on-demand, life props
for properly slacking off*
***the oldest loudest sound
you have and will ever make,
the crack of self-deception,
when your mind lies to yourself,
this latest, greatest switch off is only
temporary***
~
Feburary Nineteenth, Two Thousand and Sixteen
5:49 am
nyc
Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 4:56 PM UTC
All things that happen so fast
That the life that you thought you knew
The one gripping at your throat for breath
For death
Was not something you no longer feared
Where the hastiness of loves sweet stupid angelic eye lifting glance
The girl from the coffee stands
Turned to an old woman right before your very eyes
The flowers burst into flames
The walmart where you laughed at sprinkler sets with men who had no faces
No souls
No children to call their own
Were now spinning in a furry that tore their skin
From their bones
Dirt danced through Feburary, through Janurary, through March
To the 13th month
Where poetry hung there with their stung long and out and drooling
Dead to the sight for the love of the thing you never met
Is now so foreign
All over again
The sin of somber memories in books that when placed in mine hands
Burn like the hot coals from an undead volcano
Where fame is nothing but a sprinkle that tastes like nothing
When it rests on your tongue
That the time spent spitting our **** from a mouth that has never spoken truth
Eyes that have cried black tears
Whiteness where teeth used to be
Flowers where graves now are
Clouds moving through the heat like lizards across the barren desert
Food for the vultures whose sutures are long past infected
They are the infected
We are the infected youth piling up the garbage that has no weight
Has no past
And has only the future which will be deleted if we see
Fit
Fit for the the human cause
The human de-evolution of rat ******* hippos that know
The big screen, the big big brother
Is now forever watching for He knew He never had to stop
Never had to lock his doors, his windows, kiss his daughter goodnight
The sheets are spread out with cigarette butts and needles and gum stains of ***** sidewalks
His home is our home
But he owns it
He owns every living 6th degree burn as the water drips *****
Where the touching moments you cherish and give you "hope"
Were made from him
Invented by him
Produced through him for your enjoyment
Enjoy the moments as they come and go through and fro for to see the know
Is to then wish
You could finally go
Aug 13, 2011
Aug 13, 2011 at 1:48 PM UTC
Hey lady with the marker up front
stocking our brains with useless tid bits
of information
**** YOU!
Im not paying attention to you.
I guess you can say Im wasting my education
'Im gonna do something big, bigger then YOU'
Im gonna be a big movie star
with all my useless materialistic things
my over priced clothes. or my 6 million dollar car
making tabloids and headlines everytime
I find a girl thats better than just a ****
Ill have a big house, and leave a ton of rooms empty.
Ill try and seem sophisticated enough to try and write a lame half true autobiography
And Ill have a drug stint and people will know my problem
Six months will pass
December
Janurary
Feburary
March
April
May
'say what ever happened to him?'
Ill be clean then, and Ill look like Im enjoying myself
I did a good job of staying out of trouble
and when the trouble stopped so will the help
Soon Ill find myself alone in
my mansion with nothing to do
Ill give a hefty donation
But thats just because I feel useless
so old and just caged in
And when Im sitting in my chair
wormed by a fire, sipping on my aged wine
Ill be thinking how finishing college
getting a job and starting a family woulda been just fine
Mar 8, 2011
Mar 8, 2011 at 5:30 AM UTC
RIP to the best actor I have ever known.
To my heart you are forever sewn.
You have impacted my life more than anyone.
You saved me and gave me another day under the sun.
Thank you for touching my heart.
What you did was a true art.
RIP to the only person to stop my tears.
I have loved you for years and years.
Even though we have never met.
You are someone I could never forget.
Sleep well in Death, you beautiful man.
Please know I am forever your fan
I'll never forget how many lives you have touched.
Be happy up there? If I can ask. If it's not to much.
Rip to the man of many roles.
Death took it's toll.
To these words I wish I could send.
Thank you, my hero, Alan Rickman.
Feburary 21, 1946-Janurary 14, 2016
"Always..."
Jan 16, 2016
Jan 16, 2016 at 5:12 PM UTC
Feeling sick
Missing school
My mind rejects
My body obeys
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 1:48 PM UTC
your soul was like january,cold and bitter
your mind like feburary ,exciting and unpredictable
your finger tips like march , beginning to become warm.
your face like may, forever changing its emotion
your body like june, as hot as the burning sun
Sep 6, 2013
Sep 6, 2013 at 11:57 AM UTC
the wordplay is **** serious,
fools curse us, attacking empathy
for its sensuous to their BS pretensions,
their hypertension sophistry compounds their
selling them selves as a holy sphere,
begging for attention and the approval
appetizers of meaningless internet
bacchanal celebrating
I invite you in,
where depths surface
asking you to scratch deeper
than the shallows of egoism shoals
long labored to persaude with caution,
careful disclaimers, when you enter
our first encounter, that first most
dangerous embrace, asking you
to tag along inside insights
my intent plain, secrets
displayed with increasing
the leveling tween twice
an armful of hugs
this criticism disturbs my calm,
and so I repeat twice:
grant us the write to share, in our humanity
grant us the write to share, in our humanity*
Mar 19, 2025
Mar 19, 2025 at 8:24 AM UTC
2/2/2017
your look, i saw, i aimed for a reply
i couldn't find one and looked
at the ground
i went to see my friend
i tried, the windows were
dark
hello she called and opened the door
she never keeps the lights on
there are things in life you just cant predict
and i sit in my room during the winter
and i hate to use contractions in my poems
i wont i promised myself again, but here i am and here ive been
i tend to stay in my room , dont move a muscle
or a tendon that is
while the lights get lower
all its missing is the smoke of the lounge
and i very much miss cigarettes
the ones i rolled for myself almost a month ago
i know i will grow to love them though
so i
dont
Feb 2, 2017
Feb 2, 2017 at 9:45 AM UTC
you walked into my life and showed me what it was like to fly in the stars but one day i choked you with the truth so you shot me down. months passed and you kept me dangling on the edge of a tightrope wondering if you were going to cut the rope or shoot me back up in the sky. i burned that rope myself on the day i knew you shared your breath in bed with a girl who had fire in her eyes. i couldn’t get that fire out of my head for months. with tears in my eyes and a shattered heart i watched as you showed her how to fly with your glistening emerald eyes. i’d run home heartbroken and throw up to that stupid fire that swallowed you. And still i cringe with every flicker of that fire i see in the corner of my eye from time to time.
Sep 29, 2016
Sep 29, 2016 at 1:05 PM UTC
9/11/2016
Feburary 2015
you were so tough I thought,
I always have this belief about men that they're not as tough as they think they are and I'm always right
I don't know who my friends talk to I think maybe I'm just soft or
and I remember you,
who'd come from poverty
and no father
would smile vaguely when we, all our friends
sat in your house and when we drove in your car with the windows down it was feburary but we didn't mind
you never showed me any feeling we never knew
what was going on with you
you were excited to get your life together and bring honor to your country
the week before you did I saw you and
it was a Sunday we were alone
you gripped the steering wheel we had stopped somewhere because you had to do some business whatever that meant
a man came to the car you called him ******* and he called you chamaquito you went into his apartment and came back two minutes later
the car was silent as we rolled past Westminster and the Seminary
you cut the air
"you know I don't want to go to the marines
I wanted to be a businessman"
I never saw you after that
you went away to Arizona
and I never forgot that
because it was the only part of you
I ever truly knew,
of this vague polarizing figure
Sep 11, 2016
Sep 11, 2016 at 11:04 PM UTC
your lips are like the stars
with heaven dancing upon them
in front of the window, counting cars
little fingers fiddling with your hem
the moon rises into the blue skies
and the sun sinks and sets for the day
I turn to look at you, batting my eyes
to see that smile takes my breath away
a.d
Sep 29, 2016
Sep 29, 2016 at 1:08 PM UTC
January: New Year's Anxiety
Another year coming to an end,
and what do I have to show for it?
Filled with light regrets
and a shakey sense of hope.
Feburary: Relationship Anxiety.
The societal pressure
to feel true love,
but I can't feel anything,
at least not truly.
April: Birthday Anxiety.
I thought I'd have progressed
much further by now.
Will I ever learn?
I should be excited,
I miss being excited.
June-July: Vacation Anxiety.
Everyone around me
is having more fun.
I can tell by their photos,
filtered and posted
on a simulated reality.
August-September: Nostalgic Anxiety.
Crisp leaves and cool air.
Friday night lights and
high school regrets.
This season felt better
when I was a kid.
November-December: Holiday Anxiety.
Family, stress.
I should be happy,
but I feel so empty.
Attempts at connection
remind me how alone
I actually am.
And the cycle continues.
May 25, 2019
May 25, 2019 at 10:53 PM UTC
it’s not really the same
to feel your foreign touch
with strange hands on my body
it’s not like what i’m used to
i can tell by your gentle touch
that you’ve been through a lot
they shake like a tree’s flourescent
leaves and move down me like its
steady, swaying trunk
soon those unfamiliar hands
became my everyday craving
their loving movements make me
feel like i’m at home again
but it’s a new home and there’s
a beloved new doormat before the door
there’s new people in the home and
they are learning how to breathe again
but the house needs a little work
with its old patchy walls and
cracked, worn down counter tops
the leaky sink drips to her fast pulse
the house was so new to them
it was a new place to start again
to be able to smile without faking it
to see past the wear-and-tear
and just smile and gaze out of
those beautiful bay windows
a.d
Sep 29, 2016
Sep 29, 2016 at 1:11 PM UTC
when your heart aches for mine,
simply look up at the moon and know
i’ll be looking at it too
a.d
Sep 29, 2016
Sep 29, 2016 at 1:12 PM UTC