an exercise in giving upI don’t know what I’m doing in this place.My bones ache to take me away – to take me anywhere but here. But my heart remembers this place and its beat is racing, pumping blood into the far corners of my body, making my limbs too heavy to move. But I want to leave so badly, with every part of my being, but the one. My heart still belongs here…even after all these years.I don’t remember the last time I saw your face.But I can tell you that I still hear your voice in my dreams. In the deepest of sleeps, you’re still alive inside of me, deep within the folds of my heart, the dark spaces of my imagination. You’re alive there, even though I know nothing of where you are in reality. I know nothing of you anymore. Maybe that’s for the better. Maybe. Maybe.I can’t recall the first time that I heard time will make it better.But I do know that my mom repeats it to me every Saturday when I go to visit her in that old house that’s fu
GhostGhosti hold my own wrist,as if it's broken,'cause there are no hands,available left to hold it.to rest in the baseof your touch cannot happen.it's much too tough to ask.so i sit staringinto a blank field,eyelids empty, body in reverie,mind in ennui,sick of you and i.i love youbut hate i fell toodeep into the pool,of what I thought was true.5 feet, 5 inches,brown locks,spectacled eyesonce folded around my 5'7'' frame,now left a shell.my arms hold me,as i clutch my abdomen,and rest against the floor.i lie there,knowing the pain will finally stopbut aware,that it's just beginning.because the hardestpart about this,is loving a ghostthat isn't dead in body,but in your mind,and you can't kill her,no matter how muchyou wanna take the gunand pull the trigger.so i let pellucid phantomsperplex the crevicesof my intricate labyrinth.and i let the apparitionfly around inside,before it fades and dissipates,just like the b
StuckImagine there's a girl that you've known for a little while.She's cute, and bubbly, and you genuinely enjoy hearing about her day.You see her more and more now, and you become friends.She compliments you and you feel all gooey inside.That's when you realize you might have feelings for her,And you don't want to, because you're friends now.But you can't help it.When you see her, you just can't stop that dumb grin that plasters your face,Smiling helplessly and staring at her,Because each time you catch a glimpse of her,She's suddenly the most beautiful person you've ever met.And when she asks for a piggy back ride for the third time that day, you of course oblige,But you know you're just sinking in quicksand.And when she sits on your lap or leans her head on your shoulder,You know you're almost under.And when she begs you to hold her,You hug her from behind with your hands clasped over her stomach,And her hands holding yours.Right then, you can't help but notice howHer
Being Okay Is The Hardest Thing We DoBeing Okay Is The Hardest Thing We Do because being okay is expected,if we’re not okay, that’s not okay,what can we do to be okay?we can scribble illegible wordson a canvas made for by paintersmasquerading as notebook paper,and hope that we can sell the burnof stinging emotions for some paper.but the funny thing about that thought?is that american money isn’t paper,it’s 75% cotton and 25% linen fibers.so even the money you'd earn from your misery,isn't anything you can write onwhen you realize your money isn't made to heal. even if it does talk. but it never really ever says enough, does it?But that's okay...being okay is the hardest thing we dobecause sticks and stones do break bones,but you can hide the scars with a jacket or longer sweatshirt.or put on pants as opposed to athletic shorts.words kill, words heal, and words are so much more.and you can't hide the scars that riddle your face,the way your
here is my heart, and here is my home.i am done writing aboutblood. you can find mein the "new beginnings" isle, splashed with scar tissue and pale skin--i amwhole. dear child, open youreyes: there are stars, a galaxy, andthere is breath in your lungs. the past is neverforgotten, but you have lived through it,swam through it andmaybe died a little through it, but youcame out on top. when this winter ends, itwill end harshly;but spring comes every year,and i hope that youremember that;i hope you open your eyesto rain and i hopethat you fall in love with it, and i hopethat you let life movelike i had to.
HesitationAching sorrow and tormentPain claimed solely mineThis is my lamentWhat a pitiful whine Oh ruinous fool that I am!For what stars were I waiting for?What peak of love hesitated to climb?I stalled, hoping only for more Curse my simple fateAnd scourge away this painBlind patience did I waitAll the while going insane I thought perhaps the heavens would alignFeed me the perfect string of wordsRhyming poetry, a celestial signBut dead seeds unfit even for birds Thus is the fruit of my hesitationNurtured not a lasting bondFor this drought of separationOnly a cold tie, not fond On whom shall I pin this blame?Why, on the greatest of oafs it should be!On me pinned must be all shame!Both deaf and dumb, and never to see! How I let this all slip byPassed with foresight fully knowingFor what reason, oh why?Destruction I’ll forever be sowing If only this broken heart could make amendsTurn back time, reverse the sandsSoul heav