tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24798106082923846712023-11-15T12:04:06.933-04:00The WurdizPoems + ProseUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger41125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2479810608292384671.post-15520406299087944192015-08-12T12:31:00.003-03:002015-08-12T12:31:26.869-03:00Prose: Camp MorningI woke up around 6:30 this morning. The air was calm and mild, and it was apparent that it had rained overnight. Despite the dampness of the ground, the trees, the fly of my tent, I was dry and the air felt pleasant.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
My campmates were still asleep. Not wishing to bother them, I wandered over to the bathrooms, where two brown-grey rabbits were taking their fill of breakfast in the large lawn next to the simple building. I watched them for a short while as they moved together across the grass.<br />
<br />
After arriving back at the campsite, I decided to put my swimsuit on underneath my leggings and sweater and wandered down to the camper's beach nearby, towel flung over my shoulder. It didn't seem like anyone from the urger campsites were awake - the only sounds I could hear were my own footsteps and the occasional muffled sounds of an airplane taking off from the airport nearby.<br />
<br />
The small cove known as the camper's beach was rockier than the public one. Certainly less appealing to the general beach going crowd, but more secluded and about a ten minutes walk closer. The water was calmer than it had been the day before, as there was less wind, but there were still small waves splashing against the rocky little shore.<br />
<br />
The sky was overcast, a light grey colour that blanketed the horizon, broken into by the dark, skinny coniferous trees that lined the edge if the lake the whole way around. The water was clear for about ten feet, large rocks clearly visible beneath its surface. As you got further out it became steel grey, a darker reflection of the sky above it, broken only by the steady but shallow rolling waves.<br />
<br />
It began to rain lightly, small needlepoint drops hitting the surface of the lake with precision. Each drop left what looked like a fleeting black spot on the water's surface, so that it was as though I had experienced a rush of blood to the head, and spots were dancing before my eyes.<br />
<br />
The rain didn't last long. When it had died off, I looked up and watched one crow, then two, then three, circle above me. Then, another bird, flying just high enough that though it looked like it had the white head and tail of an eagle, I couldn't be certain. It may have been a large hawk. It circled around and then disappeared behind the trees. I continued to stare at the space it had been. It circled back. It was still too high up to be certain.<br />
<br />
I decided to swim.<br />
<br />
I stripped down to my bikini and left my towel and clothes on one of the picnic tables next to the shore. I waded in until I was ankle deep. The water was cool, but not freezing. I walked in until the water had reached my knees, and then, with a shallow dive, swam five or six good strokes before turning over to float on my back. It was colder than I had hoped it would be, but not unpleasant. I could still touch the bottom, so I swam out another twenty feet or so. By this point, the lake floor had dropped away.<br />
<br />
I treaded water, momentarily taken aback at the lake and the sky and the woods, all filtered through the grey lens of an overcast day. It was stark and I felt alone, not just in the lake, but in the world.<br />
<br />
I swam back to shore and decided to pick my way down the little beach to the point where the lake formed a bottleneck and began to feed the brook that ran through the campground.<br />
<br />
I didn't think to put my shoes back on and grumbled at myself as I picked my way across the tiny, sharp rocks that made up the shoreline of the cove. A motorboat sat moored on the shore next the bottleneck, so I walked toward that, and the closer I got to it, the more I could smell gasoline. I was watching the ground as I walked, trying to pick the path of least discomfort among the rocks, but looked up just in time to see a deer on the other side of the bottleneck, picking its way gingerly among the shore, some twenty feet from where I stood.<br />
<br />
We both froze. We started at each other for a few pregnant moments, myself both in delight and in an attempt to not scare her off, and she, likely, assessing the threat level of my presence. Then, with a loud huff and a flick of her tail, she bounded into the woods. I remained frozen momentarily. When the crashing through the trees stopped, I leaned over to peek through them. There she stood, grey in the shadow of the canopy, turning to look back at me. It seemed as though we made eye contact, and immediately, with another loud huff and her tail flicking, she bounded deeper into the woods, disappearing from my sight.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2479810608292384671.post-50929138972113131402014-07-26T19:46:00.000-03:002014-07-26T00:01:24.177-03:00The Taste of DustI want to go to the desert.<br />
<br />
Dust and heat,<br />
reddened shoulders.<br />
Chapped and cracked<br />
hands and lips.<br />
<br />
dry dry dry<br />
<br />
Blue sky.<br />
The taste of earth<br />
in my mouth.<br />
Every memory<br />
slightly burnt.<br />
<br />
Cool water<br />
is a blessing;<br />
nightfall a<br />
virtual cleansing.<br />
<br />
Cool air:<br />
the sky explodes<br />
into a million<br />
constellations.<br />
<br />
dry dry dry<br />
<br />
When the sun comes up,<br />
the sky is alive:<br />
colours painted above<br />
the horizon line.<br />
<br />
I want to go to the desert.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2479810608292384671.post-56539327058604276282014-07-22T19:50:00.002-03:002014-07-26T00:02:23.641-03:00Anyway<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">I avoid mirrors</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">I dare not look my sad self</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">in the eyes,</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">for I am not what I've claimed to be:</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">I am made up of lies.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">(Save one.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">My love for you</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">is my only truth.)</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">What would the woman</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">I make myself out to be</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">think of the woman</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">that's actually me?</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">I am weak.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Powerless.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Without a sense of self preservation</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">I love you to the point of my own damnation.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">I continue to love you</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">as you chisel away at my heart,</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">burying the shards beneath your skin.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">I watch as you fill yourself</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">with my love, but like some</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">black hole, you do not reflect it back.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">I disappear.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">I betray my own self</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">with every day that I continue to</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">offer my heart to you,</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">my soul prostrate before you,</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">with every moment that I beg</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">for what should be given freely.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">I love you beyond what is sane,</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">but even knowing that I cannot turn away.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">My heart is yours to do with what you may,</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">and to this end, I've accepted my fate.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">I am yours, I have given you everything.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">And so I lay naked at your feet,</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">waiting for you to deign to accept me.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">knowing you never will.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">still loving you anyway.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2479810608292384671.post-43078898229851250382014-07-22T19:49:00.003-03:002014-07-26T00:02:44.625-03:00Corpses<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Every dream you have</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">is like a star in the sky,</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">and you are reaching for the heavens.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Every star in the sky</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">has long been dead, which means</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">you are reaching for corpses.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2479810608292384671.post-7878348773513922672014-07-22T19:48:00.004-03:002014-07-26T00:03:06.869-03:00Priorities<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">"What's wrong?</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Why are you crying?"</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">You don't ask.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">"I love you</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">more than I love me,"</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">I don't answer.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2479810608292384671.post-31257738916993737552014-07-22T19:47:00.004-03:002014-07-26T00:03:26.706-03:00Walking<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">So many memories fill</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">the corners of this city,</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">the alleys and the dark spaces.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">You, and you, and you</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">were there,</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">taking pieces of me,</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">burying them in the city streets.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Sometimes I stumble over them,</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">heart-filled concrete</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">- or is it the other way around? -</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">to remind me of what is missing.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2479810608292384671.post-71161636789788355472014-07-22T19:47:00.002-03:002014-07-22T20:26:26.449-03:00Regrets<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">I long for you<br />
to yearn for me<br />
the way Pandora yearned<br />
to know.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">You released every terrible<br />
feeling within me,<br />
and worst of all<br />
is Hope.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2479810608292384671.post-5974654517477269782014-04-16T11:11:00.000-03:002014-04-16T11:11:00.399-03:00The Earth They Shall InheritBlessed are the caffeinated<br />
for the earth they shall inherit:<br />
freed through "natural" stimulation<br />
to work, create, and prove their merit.<br />
<br />
When struck by inspiration<br />
caffeine helps with the perspiration<br />
to get things done,<br />
to get awards won,<br />
byproduct of its blessed percolation.<br />
<br />
Yes, blessed are the caffeinated<br />
for the earth they shall inherit.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2479810608292384671.post-59506307355191807482014-04-09T11:11:00.000-03:002014-04-09T11:11:00.079-03:00EclipseI was blinded by him;<br />
he was like the sun,<br />
and I was sunburnt and parched.<br />
<br />
You were like an eclipse;<br />
I could see again,<br />
every star in the sky once hidden from me.<br />
<br />
I could not look upon him,<br />
but I could gaze at you forever:<br />
your gentle touch a caress in the night.<br />
<br />
You can light my path<br />
without hiding the heavens from me:<br />
you love me without holding me back.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2479810608292384671.post-19329696426476914712014-04-02T11:11:00.000-03:002014-04-03T03:19:58.542-03:00What You Think Love Is<div class="MsoNormal">
She stands in her living room, with her duffel bag on the
floor beside her feet. She hears him come in the front door and he says
"Hey, I'm here, are you okay?" Her text message had said only "I
need to talk to you. Please come over." That was half an hour ago. He
only lives five minutes away.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He comes around the corner of the entryway, and hesitates
when he peers into the living room. It has been three days since he last spent
the night, and in that time she has managed to sell most of her furniture. All
that remains is the coffee table and the love seat, which the subletter will be
keeping.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"What's going on?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She doesn't make eye contact when he enters. Instead, she
sits down on the love seat, staring intently at the coffee table.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"The thing about it," she begins, "is that
you're selfish."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"What are -" he starts, but she talks over him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"You're not a bad person. You're affectionate. You're
not cruel. You act with care, for the most part. Slowly raising her gaze from
the table, she finally meets his. "But you're selfish." She swallows.
He doesn't speak, but stands on the other side of the table, arms hanging at
his sides, confusion all over his face, brow furrowed above his dark brown eyes.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I have stayed here <i>twice</i>
for you," she begins again. "I turned down a fantastic job opportunity and kept my shitty
job. I signed a new lease. I held onto hope. I stayed because you won't leave,
and I'd rather be with you.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But you have this fixation on what you <i>think</i> love is, what
form you <i>think</i> it takes, what you <i>think</i> it entails. And you don't like that idea because it infringes on your freedom, on your independence. And you are so
selfish, so focused on maintaining your freedom and your independence, that you
will not - not for one moment - entertain the idea that just <i>maybe</i> you are wrong
about what love is. That there are other ways to love each other; that it
doesn't have to be about ownership and sacrifice."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She is standing again now. Her voice has shifted from
careful and determined to forceful and angry.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I never asked you to love <i>only</i> me. I just asked you <i>to</i> love
me. And I know that you <i>do</i>, even if
your blinders don't allow you to see it that way because it's different than
what you <i>thought</i> love was."<br />
<br />
She rubs her face, and speaks through her fingers: "But I'm tired of loving someone who won't love me back. I'm
tired of loving someone too selfish to try loving someone else because they're
scared of what it might cost them."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She picks up her duffel bag, and locks eyes with him again
as she straightens. She can't help but feel a deep knot of sadness in her chest when she looks at him. His thick hair is tousled from lack of any sort of attention and his face is scruffy with a couple days of beard growth.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I have stayed twice, and you have let me down twice. I
can't continue to stay when you refuse to give me a reason."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He has been staring at her this whole time, with a look of
perplexed hurt on his face. He opens his mouth, as if to say something, but
hesitates.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I love you," she says when he doesn't say anything, "with all my heart.
But until you are ready to love me back, I can't stay."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She moves to walk past him and he grabs her arm.
"Don't," he says, his voice quiet. "I didn't mean to hurt
you." She closes her eyes and breathes in deep before staring back at him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I know you didn't mean to. But you did. And I respect
myself too much to let you continue to do so. I love you, but I have to
go." She gently pulls her arm from his grasp and leaves the apartment
without another word.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
He listens to the door shut behind her, the click and the
thud. He sits down on the love seat and
leans back, covering his eyes with his hand. He sighs deeply and chews his
lower lip. He is alone, as is she, and he is sorry. He knows it is his fault,
but he doesn't know how to fix it.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2479810608292384671.post-69232385800364172782014-03-05T11:11:00.000-04:002014-07-22T19:38:48.071-03:00Not with you, Sometimes.I went to a show<br />
and wrote poetry all night.<br />
I feel so alone<br />
all of the time.<br />
<br />
If I could share your skin,<br />
I'd climb right in.<br />
'Cause I feel so alone,<br />
but not with you, sometimes.<br />
<br />
I walked all the way home,<br />
and laid awake all night.<br />
I feel so alone<br />
all of the time.<br />
<br />
If my heart could pump your blood,<br />
I'd open it right up.<br />
'Cause I feel so alone,<br />
but not with you, sometimes.<br />
<br />
Not with you, sometimes.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2479810608292384671.post-24608576509445160632014-02-26T11:11:00.000-04:002014-07-22T19:39:16.516-03:00Repeats.History repeats herself.<br />
Am I doomed to the life<br />
my mother chose to write?<br />
<br />
History repeats herself.<br />
Was her choice, too, a lie?<br />
Did she live <i>her</i> mother's life?<br />
<br />
Repetition makes an impression.<br />
Are their mistakes<br />
now mine to make?<br />
<br />
Give your heart to the one<br />
who will hurt it the most:<br />
Love them, and then love their ghost.<br />
<br />
Give your heart to the one<br />
who will leave you first,<br />
who will never quench your thirst.<br />
<br />
History repeats herself.<br />
Mama, Oma, Omama:<br />
Is it your lives I walk?<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2479810608292384671.post-36606405264406307012014-02-19T11:11:00.000-04:002014-07-22T19:39:34.406-03:00MiraclesI didn't ask to be hard to love,<br />
nor did I ask to fall in love<br />
with a heart so untouchable<br />
as yours.<br />
<br />
There are two playing this game,<br />
and neither of us are making this easy.<br />
If we make it out of this together,<br />
it will be a miracle.<br />
<br />
But I still have faith in miracles.<br />
<br />
I still have faith in us.<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2479810608292384671.post-41309176721600587772014-02-12T11:11:00.000-04:002014-07-22T19:39:45.250-03:00ChoicesI dream about running away;<br />
what would happen if I disappeared?<br />
Would you come looking for me?<br />
Or would you let it be?<br />
Would you consider yourself free?<br />
<br />
I dream about forging my way;<br />
what would happen if I followed my heart?<br />
Would you still want to be a part?<br />
Or would you disappear in the dark?<br />
Would you take it for a fresh start?<br />
<br />
I dream about giving you a choice:<br />
Belong to us, or belong to nobody.<br />
Would you choose to follow our story?<br />
Or would you choose to be one only?<br />
I don't know what you'd choose, honestly.<br />
<br />
I dream about running away;<br />
What would happen if I disappeared?<br />
Would you come find me?<br />
Or would you consider yourself free?<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2479810608292384671.post-12708674275687511732014-02-05T11:11:00.000-04:002014-07-22T19:40:04.621-03:00Half-LifeWhat is this I am doing?<br />
Can you call it living?<br />
I work I sleep<br />
I cry in frustration<br />
at the bus stop,<br />
between the two.<br />
I lie alone in the dark<br />
waiting for you to<br />
allow my heart your presence.<br />
This half-life of waiting<br />
and working<br />
mindlessly<br />
is working<br />
against me.<br />
I am withering.<br />
Is this living?<br />
Only something alive can die,<br />
so I must not be dead yet.<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2479810608292384671.post-47533921569581020492014-01-29T11:11:00.000-04:002014-07-22T19:40:11.482-03:00VampireI am going to die<br />
alone in my bed,<br />
trapped in my head,<br />
heart in my hand,<br />
drowning on dry land,<br />
lungs full of regret,<br />
as I second guess<br />
every word<br />
every touch<br />
every look.<br />
I'm too much<br />
to take.<br />
I put my heart<br />
at stake,<br />
and you put a stake<br />
through my heart.<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2479810608292384671.post-38592945802924797642014-01-22T11:11:00.000-04:002014-07-22T19:40:27.883-03:00SheetsI want to be<br />
who your heart<br />
reaches out for<br />
in the dark.<br />
I want to be<br />
who your fingers<br />
miss when my<br />
shape lingers<br />
<br />
in your sheets,<br />
in your memory.<br />
(Your sheets, your heart<br />
are in my memory).<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2479810608292384671.post-28027074612304067922014-01-15T11:11:00.000-04:002014-07-22T19:40:42.920-03:00Saying NothingI<br />
talk talk talk talk<br />
and say so little<br />
as though if I stopped<br />
I would say what I'm really thinking,<br />
how I really feel.<br />
<br />
I<br />
talk talk talk talk<br />
and say so little,<br />
becuase if I were to say<br />
the things that sit in the base of my throat,<br />
it would overwhelm you.<br />
<br />
I<br />
talk talk talk talk<br />
becuase talking is easier<br />
than communicating<br />
and I don't think you would want to hear<br />
the things I really have to say.<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2479810608292384671.post-24240019272324027562014-01-08T10:10:00.000-04:002014-07-22T19:40:49.807-03:00Good ForIf my rights, to you,<br />
or lack thereof,<br />
are an annoyance,<br />
when spoken of;<br />
<br />
when you refuse to learn,<br />
to grow better than you were,<br />
when it's too much work<br />
to not hurt people worse off than you;<br />
<br />
when you throw fourteen years out the window<br />
because I remind you that the world is a dark place<br />
for other people, and that if you're not part of the solution<br />
then you're a part of the problem,<br />
and you know as well as I do that you're not trying to solve anything...<br />
<br />
When you're too good for your best friend of nearly two decades,<br />
because she faces troubles you don't have to and so<br />
you feel like it's too much damn drama,<br />
because she won't let it go already<br />
with her activist propaganda...<br />
<br />
Well, what are you good for then?<br />
Besides trivializing my mental illness,<br />
my social repression, that is.<br />
Well, I'll tell you you're no good for me,<br />
and good riddance to you.<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2479810608292384671.post-6258769088608985322014-01-01T10:10:00.000-04:002014-07-22T19:41:02.205-03:00ButterfliesYou've never stopped giving me butterflies<br />
I haven't stopped trying to meet your eyes<br />
across the table, the room.<br />
I've labeled you my doom,<br />
for I've been surviving on your not-lies,<br />
unsaid untruths that prolong how my heart dies.<br />
I just pray it happens soon.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2479810608292384671.post-4690890409330068552013-12-25T10:10:00.000-04:002014-07-22T19:41:09.664-03:00Coming to TermsI will eventually come to terms<br />
with being alone,<br />
but for now,<br />
it's still the most painful thing.<br />
<br />
How do you tell your heart<br />
to let go of the very one<br />
who made it whole,<br />
brought it to life again?<br />
<br />
Holding on means<br />
feeling the barbs of every<br />
memory you planted inside<br />
me.<br />
<br />
I will eventually come to terms<br />
with your arm's length embraces,<br />
separating yourself even as we<br />
come together.<br />
<br />
How do you continue to reach<br />
for that most painful thing -<br />
that barbed wire heart -<br />
when every wound still bleeds?<br />
<br />
Holding on means more time<br />
spent washing wounds<br />
than listening to your heart beat<br />
next to mine.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2479810608292384671.post-58908652969293792942013-12-11T22:10:00.000-04:002014-07-22T19:41:15.823-03:00WorstThe worst alone<br />
is the one you feel<br />
when someone is<br />
holding your hand.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2479810608292384671.post-53726267605747329852013-12-04T22:29:00.000-04:002014-07-22T19:41:33.353-03:00ReachingI have to wonder sometimes<br />
what is so wrong with me<br />
that my desire to<br />
love and to be loved<br />
is so unreasonable,<br />
so unattainable.<br />
<br />
Am I so broken that the<br />
heart I have shown you is<br />
so repulsive, unwantable,<br />
that you dare not even touch it?<br />
<br />
As if my scars were contagious.<br />
Or you might be associated with my kind:<br />
<br />
The desperate feelers who reach and grasp<br />
like bodies in the Styx,<br />
just wanting to be reached back for.<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2479810608292384671.post-66678040943702307082013-11-27T22:27:00.000-04:002014-07-22T19:41:47.813-03:00Money Back GuaranteeThis isn't the life I ordered.<br />
"Item not exactly as shown":<br />
what an understatement.<br />
<br />
If I send this back,<br />
do I still have to pay the shipping?<br />
I'm pretty sure the mistake was<br />
on the warehouse's end; not mine.<br />
<br />
This isn't the life I ordered:<br />
I ordered the large.<br />
I got the small.<br />
<br />
I'm twenty-six years old.<br />
My friends are getting married,<br />
buying houses.<br />
I have a "complicated entanglement'<br />
and roommates.<br />
<br />
This isn't the life I ordered.<br />
I wanted the vibrant rainbow,<br />
but you sent me the earth tones.<br />
<br />
I make an hourly wage<br />
that barely feeds my cats.<br />
I haven't done laundry in a month,<br />
but I guess this shirt smells clean enough.<br />
<br />
This isn't the life I ordered.<br />
I asked for the portable version,<br />
and you gave me the stationary model.<br />
<br />
I can't get out of the city<br />
to clear my head<br />
as my mode of transportation<br />
is a second-hand bike whose brakes<br />
don't work when they're wet.<br />
<br />
This isn't the life I ordered.<br />
I wanted the compatible extension,<br />
but I received the individual model.<br />
<br />
I fantasize about someday<br />
loving someone<br />
who loves me back.<br />
<br />
This isn't the life I ordered.<br />
I want my money back.<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2479810608292384671.post-84566372310746829602013-11-20T22:23:00.000-04:002014-07-22T19:42:06.196-03:00Alone in Your BedI fantasize about freeing myself<br />
from this love you don't share<br />
while you breathe gently,<br />
deeply,<br />
next to me, with your<br />
arm draped over me,<br />
so casually affectionate in your<br />
slumber.<br />
<br />
Stroking your hair, I whisper<br />
my "I love you"s,<br />
alone in my heart,<br />
with you in your bed.<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0