Tag Archives: poems

Taking the Bait

The pain twists and turns around inside,
Like itchy, creepy vines crawling up my spine.
The thorns stab all the deep dark corners
Where I keep my secrets–images of you.

There is no crevice this poison doesn’t reach,
Seeping into my pores and organs and more.
It squeezes me dry and leaves me hollow,
Leaving me to wallow in my own wet tears.

I reach for my memories but it is too late,
They’re distorted and forced out–they were bait.
I took it and swallowed knowing nothing else could be done.
Holding on to what was left, I left it all behind.

What Did We Do?

All I have are questions these days
Because no matter how I think about it,
I can’t come to a conclusion as to why
The universe is against the stars.

It formed them so lovingly,
Made them blindingly bright,
Brought them together under the same umbrella,
Turned them around and around in a dance.

It created a beautiful pair
And then a million more,
Let them be together quietly,
Live up in the sky, on cloud 9 happily.

Then it tore them apart.

The pain and agony from the ripping of the halves
Made the stars wonder why they were ever created at all,
They think it would have been better if they had never been,
If they had never shined or smiled or felt.

They think of their history,
Their thousand year story,
And think of the millions of years of agony
There is left to go.

They think that maybe it is better to leave the world,
Than to face what faces them tomorrow,
And as their smiles flicker out they wonder,
What did we do to deserve this?

What Will I Do?

What will I do when I no longer have you
To stitch my wounds closed and close my eyes
To the cruelty of the world?

What will I do when I no longer have you
To take the sword out of my chest
And the pain gets the best of me?

What will I do when I no longer have the ability
To get up out of my bed anymore
Without wanting more from the universe?

What will I do when I am no longer alive
Inside, where I keep the image of you safe
And sound becomes the melody of my fears?

What will I do when I no longer have you?

Peach-colored visions

I can’t think
in peach-colored visions.

I used to think in so many colors,
They’d splatter against the canvas and cause so much clutter.
Now it’s blank and I can’t seem to fill it
No matter how hard I try to will it.

My hands are falling way out of touch,
Touching the keyboard doesn’t do much.
When my fingertips reach for a word,
It slips away with the rest, gone unheard.

I miss the watercolor visions, one big blur
Splashing against the edges so rigid and sure.
They’d blend and bend, break and churn,
So unlike me, as I would learn.

Now I can no longer rhyme or tell the time,
I can no longer sing or cry or plea or whine,
Speak or walk or try or fight,
Color or create or write.

This
is my attempt to retrieve my mind.

Emptiness

The company given just serves as a shell,
And empty nest to calm and quell.

It only leaves the left feeling more unwell,
And makes the right feel wrong as hell.

It stings the skin in a cruel way,
Until the blood can no longer be kept at bay.

It burns the eyes with such strong rays,
Making them water and hurt all day.

This hard shell serves as a home,
Comforting all that feel alone.

Only when the naive enter do they hear the ghastly moans,
And the creaky floorboards that grimace and groan.

This home will only haunt,
Best leave before you are caught.

Really, now

Lost myself?

I am only now allowed to find myself,
Coming up from under the rock that is your fist,
I’m experiencing my firsts,
A grown up baby,
Still a baby due to your fumbling,

Mumbling that you don’t know me anymore,
When you never knew me in the first place,
Because you didn’t want to see me as anything but your idea of perfect.

Don’t talk to me
If all you have to say is “slut”,
Because I know I’m not
Forgetting what I am? Forgetting where I’m from?
I wish, but I will never forget being ruled under your thumb,

That shy girl is not the girl you thought you raised,
Obedient little girl you (hardly) praised,
Please, allow, allow for once in your life,
Me
To show you who I am and how I’ve changed
Because I’m no longer your little minion,
Despite what you think I’ve grown quite independent…
Actually always have been, but you never quite saw it,
But oh well no one but you is competent

So if,
Hypothetically,
I have lost myself
(If so it’d be due to you erasing my identity),
Maybe instead of trying to find me, then,
Allow me to find myself, fix my own mistakes,
Figure out for myself what it takes
To live life without a helicopter, blades cutting my neck,
Burdening my shoulder.

Leave me alone,
I won’t call if I need help

I’d rather it not end

The end is just the beginning.

We try our best to dream, twisting our necks around towards the sound of clapping hands, sparks flying from their lagging souls. Sparking laughter and admiration, blurry faces in the crowd, they blur out the sound of the ending that blends into the opening. Act on your wishes and don’t let them be drowned out by the beat of another’s heart, screaming at your eyes for wandering much too far. There’s no denying who you are. They can’t deny you from afar.

We explore new territory even when they blot out our eyes, feel our way through because they can’t blot out our mind, blot out our drive. Touch the surface of the desk, the cup that holds our fantasies, the soft blankets of our safe nest, the one they can’t take away from us. We smile because who else could tell us what to feel now? I mean, we’re not tied down.

So then let the story begin and don’t fear when it ends
because the end is the beginning of the beginning to a new end.