so easy we thought to find a weak spot how easy we were taught pouring single words of love would be to reinforce an ideology that these simple things could fix a person
but now i wonder if:
would it be better to rip a chest open and plant a blossoming garden would be better then forcing shut a wound with treads of golden force
.
.
.
Pace, pace, pace
Rhythm of slapping feet
No where, no where
Oh I am just silent outside revenue
Tight throat;
Oh god I’m screaming
Validation, validated.
Please, daffodils, please
.
.
.
Words spoken as if
Vacant lots in a closed Down town
Was my manifest destiny
No means of translation Or altercations
Clear blue cruising day one
Sinking ships today
Tomorrow to today
“I love you I love you
Don’t forget that I love”
Seems a little bit more like
“I’m scared to let go”
.
.
.
Escaping an unraveling
Knotted tethered noose
Fingers clasped tightly
My grandmothers heart necklace
Throbbing little knots
Rug burn craving
Into weathered palms
Hold on just right.
.
.
.
Pressing my palms together
For a second searching for light
To fill fallen cracks with
Something that could fix it for some time
Waking mid-night to think again
About distant past memories
Tell myself once more
That this person I remember had past
I cover my naked cracks
Daffodils, pansies, and vermillion lilacs
I cover a stone statue With appearances of aliveness
A beautiful moment though is
When weeds begin to erode stone
Creating space between something once so cold
And replacing it with something so warm.
.
.
.
Throw me a line
Referring to the right word
Not the best nor
The worse at these things
Over and over
Pacing familiar halls
Opening and shutting
Similar feeling doors
Lock them once ajar
Self promises to
Never revisit this place
.
.
.
“Lipstick stained mugs
Breathe tinted with
Smoke and liquor
Sunsets and sunrises
Nothing more and nothing less
All I could ask from you is
Is to pour me a cup and lit the end
And stay for a chat ”
.
.
.
she had been a
forest craved out
set blazing bright
burnt and destroyed
beauty and glory stolen
till one day
you met her at midnight
so careful to plant a new garden
.
.
.
“One day you’ll realize you can’t keep hating yourself
” Peeled potatoes skins ”
Sliver slicing throw beige bodies
“You can’t hate yourself forever”
11 and I have my first drink
A drink to forget turns into
Pills to not feel at 12
At 13, my stomach matches
The void of where a child use to be
And then 15 I fill myself with
Affections and love from forgien men
I am 18 now and I still am trying to
Figure out how to not hate myself
.
.
.
i am not a whole nor am i broken
but instead
I am many little people
strewn together
sometimes so tightly and in other
loose like lacey fabric
i do not know how to feel about this