3/25

I have never thought that I wasn’t loved,

the love was never enough,

at some point very early on my soul, heart, head it all became tough,

no hug could soften,

but what if I merely exist in your head,

the only thing that keeps me from believing that is my utter brokenness,

you could not fabricate something that does not bend correctly,

that does not beat on time,

that will not accept redirection,

and can only half ass a rhyme.

The love you give me is more than I can handle,

it is a feeling that is foreign,

I dismember my patterned thoughts,

looking for discrepancies in you behavior because you are truly too good to be true.

It’s not that I’m unhappy,

It’s that the happiness I own isn’t enough to keep the wheels turning,

but the pain isn’t so bad,

I do not want to lose my want to want,

but I fear before I can enjoy all the things I expect to enjoy,

my want will be nothing but a shadow,

a trace on my brain that constantly tells me of the things I should have done before my abilities became so different.

 

Training Wheels

No one ever taught me how to write a poem, although my mother said if you find brilliant words the world will surely know. I hate to say with any certainty that she lacked wisdom and ability, even though I find myself thinking, “how could she?”

 

No one ever taught me how to ride a bike, although my father promised I was self-sufficient, I lack basic skills that peers and children often laugh at, I would never say he didn’t try his hardest, his hardest was an undefined, magical, existence where he could have no guilt for less than sober slurs, and all the praise for any clever verbs.

 

No one ever explained to me love, although a councilor assured me it was a decision, I longed for a feeling that would push this abstract choice to the front of my mind and suddenly all the songs would make sense, all the words and feelings would perfectly climb together melting away any doubt I used to hold.

 

No one expected much of me, although I saw the look in my paramount eye’s that promises I was meant for more. I give up too quickly, I throw in too fast, but lately I’ve learned how to jump back in before losing the fight.

 

 

Oversell.

Leg swells,

Wishing wells, wishing well,

Again I fell, he outspells,

dropping bombshells.

Watch him carefully misspell.

Wanting fair farewells,

With the ghosts of an empty hotel,

Just like we used to foretell,

They still can only see in pastels.

Yet, you missed the bells.

Maybe they only ring in my head,

it’s some sort of parallels,

You speak but wouldn’t dare tell.

 

 

Sleepy

I like the way your pheromones make me sleepy,
I like the way your thoughts make me question,
I like the way you taste at night,
I like the space you leave,

You don’t have to tell me it shows, I never question it because I know.

You does not ask what nearly as much as why.

You have yet to feel the lies, that made me this way,

I know I will tell you one day,

When I become less of a burden and more of a joy and then we can be happy, you and I.

Dragon

Maybe you were the dragon that saved me from the prince,
I was trapped so far from any trace of reality,
You are fierce, fearless, free,
You carefully broke down every wall until I made room for you,
You picked me up,
With every wound I had from the battle,
Then let me ride on your strong back to safety,
I felt so broken,
I feel so broken,
I am so broken,
But I look up,
And you are there,
And I am here,
And then here we are together,
Our story written,
Now I can give you a happily ever after.

February Blues.

I get lost in pictures,
Can’t find any words,
Still struggling with the tenses of our verbs,

Ride a wave of passive aggressive madness,

Until I crash on a shore of crippling sadness,

What is it like to live life?
I taste your lips and remember,
Oh I remember there is something besides pain,
It combats the storm and protects me from the torrential rains,

Alone for now,
I wonder,
Aren’t you terribly brave to be with a girl who is so sad?

Everything.

I dissected every word a hundred times before I figured out the meaning of the syllables you left me with.

It was like a puzzle, I broke it up, pieced it back together,

You are everything.

I slept on them, like you asked.

You are everything.

Overjoyed with my answer, to find your mind had changed.

You are everything.

I wake in the night when I think that you aren’t by my side.

You are my everything.

You are everywhere.

You are my everything.

Trophy.

This morning I drove down the road we used to live on,

this morning,

Thought of everything we used to do,

All the words we once gave to each other freely,

Then there was the fights,

The pain,

When we spilt it was quick,

Now I wear your vertebrae around my neck,

so everyone can see my trophy,

I make sure they all know what I could do,

if pushed to,

I say nothing about what they are,

Leaving the questions to you.

And I won’t ever tell a lie but I have no desire to advertise.

When the sand took my dad

It was an average Saturday on the beach,

Sun blinding,

Calm breeze drifted across the beach,

We were digging deep,

To find some buried treasure my mom had read about her whole life,

We dug here at least once a month and in the summer almost daily,

I never found it strange until this particular day,

The sweat rolled down my face then was caught by my eyelashes and suspended there until my dirty hands would wipe it away,

My swim suit pink,

A gift from a grandmother and although I found it horrid my mother always encouraged me to wear it,

We dug,

Side by side,

My little sister and I would play games to see who could make a deeper hole,

My father would win any day,

On this day his hole was very deep,

I noticed and then heard my mother remind him to dig out also,

He turned to me,

We laughed,

She took our hunts so seriously,

We then began to talk about my future,

All the things he wanted for me,

All the places he wanted me to see,

I began to hear a subtle fear in his normally strong voice,

I saw him struggling,

Then the screaming began,

Louder, Louder, Louder,

We couldn’t make sense of the words he was shouting,

Then at the same moment we realized the words he had repeated,

“Help me, I’m sinking.”

I rushed to him,

He begged me not to reach for him,

For fear I would be eaten by the ground as well,

My mother rushed over to kiss him goodbye,

We watch the tears fill both their eyes,

He stammered last words as the sand filled his mouth,

“I love you girls.”

We would never speak of this day,

Or our digs ever again,

I spent years trying to place together what happened,

All I know now is that day,

The ground ate my father.

sick

Don’t up set this poet,

 

Sit, sick, pick split ends,

 

like fallen wicks from the candles we used to love so much.

 

She is so fragile,

 

Showing that they don’t know what strength is,

 

they haven’t seen the pain that once plagued that little kid,

 

Tell me,

 

anyways,

 

who the fuck are you to judge.

Jump from moods,

 

to mood swings,

 

you don’t want on this ride.

 

She feels more emotions on her drive to work than you knew existed,

 

Just listen.

 

She spills her guts through self inflicted paper cuts,

 

 

 

What a sick rush,

 

 

on a search for someone she can actually love,

 

is it you?

 

 

Could it be you?

 

Tell me it’s you?

 

Broken honest pieces fall freely,

 

but have never heard of a free fall far to afraid of a crash landing,

 

Or to be left standing,

 

 

“Come whisper in my ear, you are very pretty dear.”