"ofyou" poems
redding revulsion
i am braining ofyou (we) and i am guilty of it
(are on the three double you) one?
you brain so much of you while i am so empty ofme
i hate the sun of my eyes and i am guilty for it
Oct 21, 2015
Oct 21, 2015 at 12:37 PM UTC
Because of you;
for when I'm weak,
I can know that I am strong.
Because of you;
For I know I am worthy.
Because of you;
For I know I can win a fight.
Since I have you,
as my armor,
I can even win a war.
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 8:18 PM UTC
in life, i think of you
in passing, i think of you
in death, i think of you
Nov 30, 2017
Nov 30, 2017 at 1:48 AM UTC
I still can feel it when I close my eyes.
When I sleep, I am
trapped in a translucent space
where memories meet nightmares,
and it always lingers when
I wake.
The shame burns my insides
worse than any anger could
because even the nightmare
version ofyou
still gaslights me.
I have spent years building a persona
that projects strength so that
I can convince everyone
I would never have let that happen to me.
I am still trying to convince myself
because it's too painful.
Abuse is a ***** word and the others
that follow feel
even
dirtier than what
you did to me.
I feel complicit.
I'm a co-conspirator in my own worst
living memory nightmares.
I was weak.
I said yes when I wanted to say no.
I gave in
again and
again and
again.
If my nightmares were a scene from a movie,
I would, on split screen, have
grabbed my own hand
and tugged myself into my own
horror, "it'll be okay, Meghan."
My subconscious is unrelenting,
unforgiving,
incomprehensible, undeniable
you are a
[stupiduglyworthlessspineless]
victimscratch that
survivorscratch that
human ^tortured
by yourselfscratch that
him.
Ididthistomyselfscratch that
He did this to me.
Jan 10, 2019
Jan 10, 2019 at 10:20 PM UTC
I let a stranger take.me.home.
(ihaventdonethatbefore)
I needed-to-try-to-feel-
...s o m e t h i n g
some//thing
...other.than the [void]
ofyou
Her photos and books
Saint Christopher on the refrigerator
//points.to.connect.upon.//
so quiet and thoughtful
so pretty with-no-clothes-on
^but^she^isn't^you
...andmybodyknew ~it was a lie~
(whileweweretheretangled)
faking said engagement
...the knot in my throat//knife in my ribs//
Only I know; how my body
~ t r e m b l e s ~ at. simply.the.
thought.
of.
your.
...smile.
She gave me her number,
...watching me l e a v e
at 5-in-the-morning
...but I don't even know/what/to/call/her.
Oct 26, 2015
Oct 26, 2015 at 9:17 PM UTC
U.
You.
Hue.
You.
You are the reason why I can’t write anyou
it is taking me so long thinking ofyou
styles, figyoures, metaphyours,
I can’t even finis-
any sentenc-you
Stop.
You’re the reas-you
Youarethereaso-you.
**** Even if I think faster, you can still keep pace-you.
You are a mountaintop between dawn-you.
I can’t write anyou.
How you can you I you write you any you poetry you
make you art you you you-
if there’s always you slipping between my wo-you-rds and thoughts.
I can’t you
You.
You.
Now I know why poets can’t write when they are in lov-you.
You.
You.
Sorry love but how can I make you a poem when there are no words
I can think of that can describe you except …
You.
You.
You.
Jul 8, 2016
Jul 8, 2016 at 2:11 AM UTC