"totaled" poems
Cold white layers pile over the grey concrete
I did not expect the storm but I
Needed to face the journey
Someday
We knew it could not last forever
And in that moment
An accident in my vision,
Maybe the music screaming into my ear
Distracted me from the obvious truth that lie
Just through the windowpane
Leading to a collision straight into reality
Your words, the concrete divider
That hit hard enough to take deep damage
Yet not hard enough to stop me from moving forward
The unexpected truth that came at the least expected moment
My ignorance overlooked the obvious signs
That i could not stay safe forever
Not at the speed we drove..
My skin hugged my knuckles tightly
Enough to match the descending snow
As I knew from the first swerve
Your first word
That inevitable fate
I surely faced
Death loomed close in my mind
But I drove on
Grabbed the wheel and forced my way through
The place where I felt nearest to the grave
Until I reached a safe enough space to see for myself
Just how much damage I endured
And, like my car,
I am totaled
Broken into pieces that cannot be reframed
Some lost at the point of collision
Others gradually passing over time
And some still holding on
In the eyes of an astonished mechanic
The car shouldn't even start
And according to everyone else
I should be dead
But I'm not
And though neither the car
Or my own life will ever fully
return to their original condition
We still drive on
Moving forward on the unpredictable
Icy
Deadly
Highway of life
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 3:28 AM UTC
Sweat dripping from my puke, trapped and chained by an IV..my inner stereo screamed from 102.9 and on top of my ride I felt totaled. Darkness and alone with empathy blind to my dungeon. Why do you treat me like this? You don’t even know me! You don’t really care! You only care about yourself! Give me a second of your time! Don’t you see my heart is bleeding?! I was justified and as usual my finger went to point but at that point I realized I’ve always been the MARK. HAHA did it take disease to realize the disease. You see from the outside and don’t we many look so pretty? Hip Hip Hooray they say to my accomplishment but inner drive selfish like the parasite. I could have lived my whole life white picket ignorant, world successful and none the wiser. But I can’t trade it for nothing I had to die through a sickness to see the re-mastering of my soul by His remedy… Blood........ Light on “Would you go again?” Are you kidding! I’d go again if it kills me!.... No half and half I’m all in… I understand and want to Love like my own marrow. I’m coming back to you kids..I love you and no circumstance matters for this man. My unseen finally got engaged to the fire of my actions and……………. I DO
Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 8:48 AM UTC
God is spoken
From a potent Thing
we smoking Trees
Gaia birthed the bloom
breathed the boom
in the canopies,
In the wind flew the bees
and grew the pleasantries
Prana pushing
thunder through
sQuishing lemon trees
like a hundred new
Whisps of mists
and heavy deeds
Sit with honeydew
The gist of this
the lemon breeze
(We) Going tunnel view
Fits and Shakes,
seeking remedies
digging under you
Might be
dicking under you
Might be
Torn asunder true
Pirate borne to plunder you....
Sweat means gold,
what's been found
with lemon -ease?
I've been told
What in our eyes
is what we ever see's
7 seas,
more like 7 deeds,
filled with deadly feeds
Demons like to pleade
with ready rease,
Virus, the life that
spread disease
(it alters our sense
and what we please)
~Ahem,
***no te comas
la verdad
del diablo,***
today to trust
Might feel bad, but
none brought low
There's an easy in
WE Strong Standin',
N0ne brought low
and now we win
amen, a man
none start south
Its begun...
Light as
Potent as my prayers
**** the make-believe
***I can't wear it, ah
Dark is
Ever reaching
What do you receive?
***What you carrying hah?
Balance
(Is) an even preaching :
What we choose to be
***I can bear it ; hah
Come and help me unweave
those who have been so deceived
Those stuck in in the mud of ...
sputtering " how can it be ?"
**** the you or me, mentality
When Neurons Fire free
and Serotonins drained in me
You Might find Saraswati
sweetly swathing me
In glowing rivers,
poured off the moon
With Omens looming soon
With Omens looming soon
I been choking on my doom.
Dreaming
with Both eyes open
and a heart awoken ,
poorly stoking gloom
Too blind to see hope
but stoked, still
mocking roving
Vroom : im off to tokin soon.
Sh!t this blunt be totaled soon
I Might be total loon
an inverted magic man
who most often enwomb
those caught on the moon
Those stuck in the tune
For those who hear
this earworm, this tea room sloom.
This is for Those muted in zoom:
I've found traction in heaps
Breaking as hard and often
As the risen yeast
When you pass on the least
My Passion is to find
the passion of peace
its Stuck In the grasp
Fashioned with the sap
of my last energies...
May 3, 2022
May 3, 2022 at 12:27 AM UTC
Taco bell in my body
It aint no shot bus shawty
2 Am munchie run
Driving high, much fun
Crashed into a pole
Driving high not so much fun
Get to tacobell what joy
I want to eat it now o boy
Forgot to order how embarrassing
She staring at me, looks discouraging
order caramel apple empanada
She asks for money, I have nada
Go back to car forgot it's totaled
crashed into pole earlier, to much yolo
walk home tired and hungry and pretty sad
Forgot about this blunt I never had
light it up and I now feel glad
Life without tacobell not so bad
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 3:18 PM UTC
we were driving home
taking side roads in a roundabout way.
and you spotted something on the side of the road.
bloodied, broken and (i assumed to be) dead.
you pulled over and we inspected it.
i was rather disgusted, but you picked it up and coddled it 'cause it had fur.
you kept coo'ing at it and asked it what it's name was (expecting no answer)
but it struggled to utter "Love".
we begrudgingly decided to take it home
and made a bed for it and nourished it back to health.
a week later we were drinking Earl Grey by the fireplace,
heard a rumbling
and looked around to see it standing there looking at us.
it was 7' tall and had an expression of awe, wonder, and terror
as if it thought we would ****** it at any second.
each night it had a different face, resembling one of your former playthings.
you never called it the same name twice.
a week later, it couldn't fit through any of the doorways.
we always came home to plaster, paint and drywall scattered everywhere.
i complained.
"Love has broad shoulders", you quipped.
it had grown too much for us.
a week later, i spent the afternoon at the bar and you were shopping.
we rendezvoused back home at 3PM.
only to find a gaping hole where the front door used to be.
everything inside totaled.
precious collections, expensive technology, jewelry...
all gone (or destroyed beyond recognition).
i railed, "Love ruined EVERYTHING!!!"
you seemed to take no note, kept your composure and muttered, "It always does" and just began sweeping.
the next day we got a kitten from the animal shelter,
and were laying in bed with it at night.
i asked, "Do you think Love will ever come back?"
you answered coldly, "It never does".
Jul 16, 2012
Jul 16, 2012 at 1:17 AM UTC
I saw a man dead today
Head on
Chest liquid
Legs no longer
The truck he collided with
Totaled
A human sized dent
The bike he rode
Destroyed
The compressions don’t help
Though many try
Human’s banded together for one man
Who stood no chance
In this death I learned
There is good in this world
In this death I learned
There is sadness
Once a friend
Gone for now
Yet he lives on in the friends he rode with
Those who witnessed that horrific incident
I did not know him
I never saw his face
We prayed for him
For those he was with
For those who have seen
For those who grieve
For ourselves
I saw a man dead today
But remembered why we live
Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 12:13 AM UTC
To be blessed ,
favored and protected by the environment,
selected and isolated from your social groupings,
To be blessed is to synthesize what truly has meaning in life and self-meditate with the sake of life’s pace.
Before falling asleep, resting, force the mental to remain awake,
processing and breaking apart the information given today,
despite the fact that time wasn’t kind, brief or even prolonged; make it the moral commitment to self-reflect.
Make a correction if your answer is wrong; the fabrication of a scripture,
Make sure, for certain, that all the totaled scores calculate to a certain percentage,
Affirmed, scolded or ruled by another to convey your defined truth as inaccurate, almost there or rarely ample.
Time is allotted, effortless and to be taught a lesson is a blessing,
Space is limited, given and to be bestowed the gift of building is the set up version of a lesson, a shell of a blessing.
Sep 26, 2018
Sep 26, 2018 at 1:39 AM UTC
I'm here to spread the news that.
Despite its bad reputation with people
Back surgery works like a charm.
When I was 23, I injured my back lifting weights
I began to have chronic back pain
I researched what was the best thing for back pain
And yoga came to the top
At age 28, I began 8 years of yoga
That I practiced every day
My back pain was reduced until my age of 35
When yoga eventually failed
I moved in to physical therapy
That worked into my late 40s
I was rear ended in a car accident,
With the car entirely totaled.
That was the beginning of the end.
Nothing "alternative" worked anymore
I felt like there were razorblades in my groin
I would fall for no apparent reason
And then could not stand back up
I went to my doctor about it
He said if I got a MRI, that surgery would be the next step
Since surgery has such a bad reputation
I skipped the MRI
I was riding horses at the time
One day, I went to get a horse in the pasture
I kept falling and could not stand
I thought it was due to the mud.
I had to crawl through the mud and horse ****
To get back to the barn.
I thought once I was on concrete
That I could stand
But I couldn't
The stable manager helped me
To the office.
I rested for half and hour
And then drove home.
We were watching TV
In our downstairs family room
I went to go upstairs
And in the middle of the stairs
My legs stopped working
We drove to the ER
I had an emergency MRI
It showed that my disc was entirely extruded
And surrounding my spinal cord.
I went for emergency back surgery.
The procedure was called a microdiscectomy
They just took the gel
Away from my spinal cord
And within 2 hours of surgery
I could walk again.
I noted how easy it was to walk.
After a few weeks of just weird stuff
Like lightning bolts down my legs,
My back entirely healed Within 6 weeks
And that was the end of 27 years
Of back pain.
I often tell young people that
I had an extruded disc that
Was older than they are!!
It's been 5 years now and my back is cured.
If back surgery did not have
Such a bad reputation,
I could have saved myself a lot of pain
Microdiscectomy has a 95% cure for referred pain
In my case, it had a 30% cure rate for back pain
I am in the lucky 30%
Back surgery does work
And every year
There are more advances.
I went to my surgeon
And gave him a present
And a big hug of thanks.
Spread the word!
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 1:16 PM UTC
Mid October takes its end of season's leap
into the solitude of post-tourism autumn.
The landscape shows its truer face to celebrate
the reassembly of local solidarity.
Tat and trim tucked into hibernation,
chalkboards erased,
scant takings totaled,
inflatables deflated.
Unsold crafts packed between pages of yesterday's
'Correio de Manha'
Shocked freezers stand open-mouthed
their diet of ice dwindled to a thin trickle.
Sunshades collapse in deep south style,
redundant loungers relax supine.
Kids slope back to school -
a mule-train of shoe-scrapers packed to the hilt
dawdles through warming scents of
post-salad indulgence,
sweet with the street-aroma of 'feijoada',
garlic, and aromatic oregano
pot-grown in a back plot, littered with
discarded placards and tired bikes.
Past men leaning doors, unsure of new routines,
idle hands and minds with new time to fill
mostly in cold bars for warm camaraderie.
Women pick fitfully at quiet-season's crochet
squatting to gossip under a white wash
slung and pegged, stick-sure
against thin bleached facades.
Under Planes, old comrades congregate
shuffling at a make-shift table,
tired eyes set on cards,
playing for cents under a limited sky
once defined by Salazar.
Car parks thin.
Beneath the russet canopies street-sweepers
scorn a reckless wind, where still sun-crisp leaves
gather in gutters, thirstily anticipating
the first deluge under autumn's gathering clouds.
copyright © Caroline Grace 2011
Oct 11, 2011
Oct 11, 2011 at 7:13 AM UTC
Dis is one dream that won’t be pleasant
I’m the master, you the peasant
Broken Ankles and Totaled Cars
Really!? More like Strange Dreams from weird bars
Guess it can’t be, Queens too young
In a club, hands w’d get tied, like your tongue
More like a wanna be princess, than a true Queen
You got weak poems like Death by Dopamine
Mo like, Death by Dope Poet, me!
Ya best run back to the Prayer Closest gurll
Time for a Waking up, I’m da King of the world
There are two things you can take
That your Unabridged Loc Bat and your Mistake
Show some Self-Control SISS
Gonna get your ******* in a great big twist
Your right about one thing, it’s My Fault
That you’re stumblin’ in the hundred, an I’m winin the vault
BOO HOO! Handle With Care
My rhymes nock your teeth out and pull your hair (Not me, rhymes. No violence towards women!)
I Release my poems, to be a my ****
You’ll be reciting’ Memories of You, like a drug
You asked the question, What I May Lose
It aint up to you B, it’s for me to choose
You were So Close, you could almost taste it
In stepped the King, now your poems aint worth sh…..
Yo Yo! Listen up all you shawtys
Ya steppin’ to the Kng, you must b chugging foties
Take a herd of ya’ll to get in my face
Talken to you, Somethin’ and Madison Grace
This is the toughest challenge you’ll ever face
Betta get fifty of ya all pseudo poets
Cuz you’re the what?
And I’m the KNOW IT!!!!!!!
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 9:37 AM UTC
i remember meeting you in the back of house, where your words were loose and wild. i was brining some guests plates in that needed to be cleaned after their meal. i got to talking with some coworker about some
bull **** coworkers talk about, probably complaining about some old lady who wanted truffle fries and only got regular fries. you had to chime in when there was a cadence with some ********** comment to display your manliness and status amongst your kitchen staff. that game always seemed counterproductive to me. you pinned me for someone i wasn't. i did the same to you. somehow along the way, between all your lewd remarks, we became friends. i believe it began over our affinity for the Buffalo Bills. You said you liked them because they were the underdogs and you hated the Miami Dolphins. I told you they were my hometown team and you said "no **** get the **** outa here. You're from Buffalo?" the way you said it lead me to assume you were from New York. You told me you were from upstate and missed it. I told you how much time my family spent up there in the summers, doing outdoorsy things. burning fires, drinking beer underage, walking barefoot through the forrest. we bonded. we learned a lot more about each other. you were divorced and knew that you could never love another woman as much as you loved your ex. she gave you two beautiful kids. she also took 3/4 of you paycheck and left you for broke. the rest you drank away with me when our shifts were over. you told me about your drug habits, and i told you about mine. i told you about my childhood and you said you were sorry. i helped you drive your kids to school when your ex wife was too busy. we got drunk and shot so much **** there was a chip on your shoulder. there was a chip on mine too. i got to see you cry when i accused you of using again. i think you knew what i said was true. i came down on you hard because i had just lost two jobs, a girlfriend i thought would have my children, and someone that lived in your apartment complex crashed into my brand new car while i was waiting on you. we were on the way to get your kids from school. you knew i meant well but i could see the guilt in your eyes. i helped you with your kids a handful of times after that. we would get breakfast after and talk about work and women. after work we'd get ****** and eat at some small Mexican stand in 90 degree weather. i fell asleep at the wheel and totaled my car some time later. shortly after i left for tour and then you died. some secrets you take to the grave. thank you.
Feb 25, 2017
Feb 25, 2017 at 3:24 AM UTC
An unsound disorder takes host
In a body for years I’ve loved
Memories becoming all but ghosts
Cell by cell with blackness she rusts
In each vessel of her sclera
In each fold of her fine vocals
In each tear of her mascara
The feat of a smile totaled
From a world all but brightening
Living in walls crafted by fear
Each breath, a scream of lightning
New evenings; old muscles speared
The feat of a smile totaled
Amidst an eerie, white speech
In each fold of her fine vocals
A desire for love beseeched
May 25, 2013
May 25, 2013 at 12:34 AM UTC
There are too many things I regret telling you, darling. I regret telling you about how when I was little I nearly died in the accident that totaled my parents' Jetta. I regret mentioning that I felt like your Halloween costume was more important to you than I was. I regret that you let me convince you to help you clean your ******* room so I could feel important. I regret every tear I've made you shed and your pain is carved into my brittle bones so I know just how much I've hurt you. Honestly, I've started to realize how much of a miracle it is that you haven't changed your mind about loving a broken and battered shell of a human being wearing a smiling mask that comes off so slowly it peels away what's left of my pale, flaking skin. I'm surprised you're still interested in my thinning body and tattered soul. My name falling from your lips in ecstasy still sounds so foreign, like hearing a language you never even knew existed. You look at me like I hang the moon in your night sky, making me feel unworthy of the way you treat me, not like a broken toy but rather an ancient heirloom to be treasured and mended. I find myself tossing and turning at night wondering and worrying and whittling away at the fragile self confidence I build when I'm with you and I ******* regret. I regret not opening up and I regret the indisputable fact you could do so much better than me. There are still so many things I regret and letting you read this is one of them but these are all things you need to know and my heart is still in pieces beneath our feet. Yes, there will always be things I regret, but loving you will never be one of them.
Dec 14, 2015
Dec 14, 2015 at 10:25 AM UTC
I love
You
Don’t care
In-diff-er-ent
Isn't paid
Much attention
In my apartment
We’ll
End-if-her-rent
Isn’t paid
In our
Department
But who cares?
Separation
Doesn't
Always cause pain
And pain
Isn't always
The cause
Of separation
We just
Happened
To drift away
Like
Messages in a bottle
Off the coast
With no intent
Of being found
Our lonely islands
Are crowded
With shadows
Of friends
We forget the darkness
Because at least
We no longer
Burn each other
With our angst
And anger
We remember
Everything
Except rations
Of ourselves
We left
Like t-shirts
And underwear
Tangled
In each others
Laundry
Then throw
Them away
Find them
Another day
in the exact same place
We excavated them
The returnment
Of our undesirables
Show fate’s
Sense of humor
But
Only a stubbornness
Such as ours
Could devour fate
And disavow
The vows
It set out
To make...
We
Will
Never
Be
Again
Never
Again
Will
We
Be
Sums
Up the sum
Of each halves
And the total
Is something
The totaled
Hearts
Can live with...
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 11:02 PM UTC
I have 17 empty notebooks
This morning it was 16, but I bought another on my way home from work because it was leather bound and on sale
It cost an hour and a half of work
...
So, I have 17 empty notebooks
One is missing a page
I needed to write down an appointment but I didn't want to ruin the whole book
Another has three pages that are actually written on
It was meant to be a bullet journal but the box marked "bullet journal review" was never checked off
Notebooks three, four, and twelve are actually binders which are usually in a different category but what is a binder if not an evolved journal?
Or maybe they're all subspecies of paper
Its all paper
Paper that speaks, whispering to me in my soft moments when there is nothing to do except worry about all that unfilled space
"We were trees once. We were alive. We were cut down and reshaped to fulfill a larger purpose and this is what becomes of us?"
My guilt turns to anxiety turns to pen clicking and that makes it worse, reminding all 18 of us that I am perfectly capable and yet wholly unwilling
It's not like I haven't tried
All of those notebooks were bought with a specific use in mind
Well, they were all bought and then later justified by thinking of a use that I knew would never come to fruition
Bullet journal, grimoire, dream journal, poetry journal, school journals
...
So, I have nearly 17 mostly empty notebooks in a drawer
They used to sit on my shelf but it didn't seem right placing those empty vessels amongst a universe of universes and filled pages
Like parking my totaled '97 Toyota Corolla next to a Porsche
So they're in a drawer with a few torn shirts I keep meaning to turn into patches, a barely used oil pastel set, and a dusty Bass for Dummies book
So maybe this is a lesson
Maybe I'm making oceans out of puddles
Maybe this is a metaphor for my life and all of its wasted time and blank pages; blank from the months I spent lying on a couch, wrapped up in the cold snow blanket of fear and regret
I regret so much and the more I regret the more anxious I become the more unlikely I am to get up and pick my story back up the more pages pass by as barren as the day is short
Or Maybe
Maybe I should just stop buying new notebooks
Jun 1, 2017
Jun 1, 2017 at 2:44 AM UTC
Is never the end, vastness
Cerebral expanses,
Horizons, hikes, labyrinths
Within labyrinths within
Every book that ever could be written
Every ever that could ever be
Files, folders, sections
Subsections in subsections within
The human brain cannot catalog
The universal sum
The tally is never totaled
The end is never the end
Sep 6, 2021
Sep 6, 2021 at 10:22 PM UTC
*She kept a list of her lovers
in her desk drawer
the one that locked.
The one that held her secrets.
The list totaled seventeen.
Not bad she rationalised.
For a forty year old woman
divorced for three years.
she had watched tv dramas
women in her position
had barhopped to fifty lovers
in a year.
but not her.
They ranged from
lovers she needed
lovers she wanted
to lovers who
could not pass from
one night to the other.
But the new neighbor
was different.
he had a daughter
twelve or so.
She had dropped a bag
of groceries the
eggs splatterered
he held her close
saying shushhh honey
its ok.
kissing her hair
Keeping her safe
and comforted.
Her ex never did that.
An hour later he appeared
with two more
bags of grocery.
That night She felt him watching
her slip into her pool.
She felt his eyes on her.
He appeared with
a bottle of wine.
Can I join you he asked?
As he took his clothes off
and sat in the pool.
Only if you dont take this
the wrong way she smiled.
He slipped naked
in the blue water.
He looked fit and tanned.
As he slipped out of the water
he looked into her eyes
and said you have
beautiful breast.
Blushing she closed her robe.
Do you get lonely he asked.?
Yes sometimes.
I do too he whispered.
Are you lonely now
Yes she said.
three years later
They laughed as
their little baby girl
joined the other children
in the pool.
Swimming for the first time
her new baby laughed.
She looked at him holding
the child so safe,
He was so safe so warm.
So much what she needed.
He reached for her hand.
she felt his solid grip.
I love you my sweetheart
he said.
she smiled
and said back
not as much as I love you honey.
As he picked up their litte girl
she joined in
I love you too
daddy she whispered.
As a tear of joy
flowed softly
down her face.*
Oct 29, 2015
Oct 29, 2015 at 5:49 AM UTC
With holes in pockets
Can we buy?
Gain truth from
The lips that lie?
Without ever asking
Why?
Is guidance in
A folded map?
Wealth within
Bottle cap?
Does fine champagne
Come on tap?
Does knowledge come
From books fast closed?
Water from a frozen hose?
Motion from a
Locked up gear?
Faith from gurus
Full of fear?
Can oil flow
From stoppered jars?
Travel made in totaled cars?
Peace be won from
World War?
Calculating sums from nil
For naught we pay
Usurious bills
No winning wars where
*ALL are killed
The wind listeth
where it will...*
We beard the lion
In his lair
Close the pane
To breathe the air.
SøułSurvivør
5/23/2017
May 23, 2017
May 23, 2017 at 5:22 AM UTC
All 8,000,000,000 human beings are regal--no, divine.
But several billion of them are poor or extremely poor.
The World Bank says 10,000 children around the world
die every day of starvation. Moreover, if you totaled
the net worth of only the 10 wealthiest nations, you
would find it to be $307,000,000,000,000. If you divide
307 trillion dollars by 8 billion human beings, each
human being on Earth would receive $46,250, but the
poor right now try to survive on less than $2.00 a day.
Does this bother any of you as much as it does me?
But if we coronated every human being on Earth, there
would be far, far, far fewer children dying every day
and far, far, far human beings trying to survive on
less than $2.00 a day.
TOD HOWARD HAWKS
May 7, 2023
May 7, 2023 at 1:53 AM UTC
Streets as hot as metal
Where bodies turn to ice
Bullets litter cracked sidewalks
That broke the sad stoplights.
Laughs flood through the fences
With shattered slides and dreams
The man passed by this every day
With feelings that tested seams.
Every day, the same old thing
Drugs erupting from the bricks
Graffiti covering an old cafe
Crime makes this city tick.
Another young kid crying
For he hasn't got a home
Another car's been totaled
The wrath road rage has shown.
Another playground built again
Trying to make the town look clean
He can't ignore the orange jumpsuits
That stick around to plant some trees.
Blood stains here and flowers there
Take a stroll down Contrast Street
Ignoring grimy street vendors
Cause he's heard they've got the creeps.
Another gun shot in the air
Another cry for help
Another pretty restaurant
And people trying to convince themselves.
That maybe it's not happening
Someone will come along who cares
Someone else, take care of that!
Me? No, don't you even dare.
So I guess this can just keep happening
These walking contradictories
You're defeating your own purpose
We're losing, don't you see?
Jan 1, 2014
Jan 1, 2014 at 5:34 PM UTC
Sometimes
I still think of you.
Most times
You're here in with me.
Head or heart
In both, sometimes apart
..Forever the heart.
I wish I could just say 'hi'
And tell you
That at times I go back,
Reminiscing on you and I.
I need to tell you
That when I said that "I will love you..
Always, no matter what"
That I really meant it,
Standing the test of time.
I wanted to tell you that if you still really feel
Everything I feel..
Then I must to apologize for all the Agony.
The negative emotions,
The way I look but don't see.
And all of the too many thoughts I still have.
The fears & Energy...
I hope they're far from you my dear.
**** I still love you.
**** it hurts so bad.
I fear crashing into you,
For my heart will be totaled.
I can't know
If you're happy or sad,
Both would be equally bad.
I can't see your skin,
The freckles running down your arm.
I wouldn't be able to look
Into your eyes
See your soft thighs,
My insides would just stop working, die.
I fear you having negative
or false thoughts towards me,
Thinking that I moved on.
I'm so afraid that you're still hurting,
Like I'm hurting.
There is no one,
no where to move past you.
I need you to know that
You are still my number one,
Forever.
I changed with you,
You became a piece of my soul
Which I could never erase,
I wouldn't want to.
Please know
I'm still here,
Thinking you're beautiful
Even though I've seen your ugly.
Precious girl,
I wish I could tend to you
When you're down.
I wish I could see you up..
Smiling,
But I really can't.
If you thought differently,
I need you to know,
It was you,
It was me.
How silly,
I still care for you..
More than anyone.
My blood, it's you,
My sight, it's you.
My vision of Love,
It will remain..
You.
Even if you have moved on
I need you to know that
I still am deeply in love with you.
Not rivers deep,
And not oceans deep.
Not even galaxies deep,
Or the universe deep.
It's black hole deep,
Only we know what's in
That black hole.
Nothing can or will ever compare.
Please know.
Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 5:42 PM UTC
I'm pretty sure it's safe to say you're not feeling me,
I had a hunch that'd you end up feeling that way.
I was honest and I was going to try my best
But you're an individual that chose to go another road.
You're gone on the highway and I'm walking on a rail road.
I swear my friends keep me holding on
But they don't know that I'm so far gone.
I'd hope you'd give me chance and realize you had me all wrong.
Keep going because you were right all along.
I'm a child that still hasn't hit his growth spurt.
I swear I'm a psychic because I knew I'd be left hurt.
We were going to have a good run but you left me in the dirt.
I'm a train wreck trying to get back on track
And you'd chugged along and showed me your back.
What did I expect because it all ends the same,
And guess what?
Yes, I'm the one to blame.
I was hoping you'd see me out but you were smart enough to see through me.
Sep 5, 2016
Sep 5, 2016 at 9:00 PM UTC
a month ago, i got in a car accident that totaled my car.
i was making a left turn at a stoplight
and the driver of an suv was paying no attention to her red light.
she barreled into the front end of my car at full speed before i even saw her coming,
and then everything was shattered glass and metal colliding and screeching tires
and suddenly my airbags were puffed out like sinister clouds and my engine sounded like a death rattle.
when i opened the door to get out, the hinges grated like a scream.
but i wasn’t hurt.
i cried for six hours that day but i went to school the next one.
everything was fine.
it's just that since then, everything in my life resembles a car crash.
i smelled burning for weeks.
i still blink and see spiderweb patterns of broken glass.
i cried for two hours when i realized i lost the cd i made
just so i could listen to my favorite songs in the car.
when i hear the song that was playing, i have to turn it off.
my father picked up the shrapnel still on the street a week later
and gave me my charred, crumpled, unreadable gravestone of a front license plate.
he straightened it out and put it on my new car when we got it.
i broke up with my boyfriend three weeks ago
and as i left i heard sirens from inside his house.
the day after that, i was talking to another boy
and his promises sounded like ambulances with no paramedics on board.
last week there was a fatal car accident half a mile from my house
and i couldn't breathe for the rest of the day after i heard.
i have to turn left at the stoplight where my own accident happened every day
and when i turn i clench my fists around the steering wheel
like it wants to tear itself out of my hands and maybe it does.
i still check left and right and left and right during turns
even when someone else is driving.
call all of this a reaction to trauma,
but honestly i don't know what's wrong with me.
all i know is i cried with frustration, immature, pathetic,
when my mother and my father couldn't find a new car.
all i know is i grieved for my ford focus
like it was my only friend in the world.
all i know is i keep talking about this accident
even though i’m even getting annoyed by myself
and my fingers on the keyboard sound just like the policeman's as he wrote up the report
as i perched on a plastic backseat, shaking, face covered with tear tracks,
waiting, alone, for my father to arrive so i didn't have to be an adult,
waiting, alone, for an explanation of why this happened to me.
all i know is everything in my life resembles a car crash,
and there are sirens in the distance,
and i'm still waiting for the smoke to clear.
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 6:21 PM UTC
When you love someone,
it isn't always pretty.
Sometimes it's two people, full
speed ahead and once the wreckage is left,
You can say "I loved this hard."
I still look at our wreckage and
think of all who were involved.
You think there were no casualties,
no victims but yourself.
I was a casualty and all the victims and bystanders
of my love for you
would call me crazy for picking at the shattered glass windows.
The car is totaled.
There is absolutely no chance of it running again,
and like a fool,
I think sitting in front of the wheel
is gonna make it run again.
Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 11:45 PM UTC