Wiping the tears Rubbing backs Cooking while singing Binge watching Loving the way they wake up Listening to complaints First time in a month First time in months Unanswered texts Cute pics on SM Alone Stories unfold Without me Standing here My choice In my … Continue reading My Place
Category: poetry
Doormat
She knocked on my door like she always did
Ghost like
Nothing to do, why not hang out with a friend
She knows I don’t see her as a friend
We pretend
I tried to quiet my heart
Unable to stop it’s talking when she was near
She just wanted sleep
She could have gone home
She could have done something more productive
Alas, here she is in my bed sleeping
I play the music loud to drown out my heart
She can’t hear either
Me liking her makes no sense
We’d never be compatible
Then I watch her breathe
How peaceful she looks
I watch as she takes a breath
Follow the flow of oxygen
In through her nose
Symmetrical with her lips
Always slightly chapped
Like how she’s always slightly hungry
Down her long tanned neck
Her chest moves with life
Always sighing in sleep
Then she wakes up blinking at me
Caught
She stares into my eyes
Forcing me to fidget
She has an amazing person
I try to remind myself
We’ve been friends for long
Not love, just infatuation
Memories
When we said ‘I love you’
As friends
Next to her gravitational pull
I have pictures
My lips her kneck
My lips her thighs
My lips between her
She’s just a friend
I’m just a doormat with a bed
One that always says ‘Welcome Home’
How to Feel
I tried to grab her
All I got was air
She left the way I knew she would
What to do?
Now that the light is gone
I’m here empty
Is this how an empty husk feels?
Forced to exist
Having no reason to
Not wanting to
You woke up though
Seize the day, is it?
Your purpose in life is not to die
Even if that is all you are thinking
Mine
I called her my wife
We only knew each other for two short weeks
I probably sensed it then
We were from the same cloth
It was rare to see me without her
Her without me
In her car, eating food, walking anywhere
I told everyone that she was mine
We never dated
We were just always together
All those lesbians eyeing her could go to hell
I claimed her
I lost her though
She told me the truth
I was the only one that had nothing going on
Crying on my bed she tells me of her ex-girlfriend
She gave no inkling
Nor any promises
It was just my selfishness
They broke up. This changes nothing
She lays on my bed
Hands above her head
An invisible rope around her wrists
She deserves a punishment for straying
I tell her that she’s mine. She can never get away.
Gone
She had wrapped herself for me. I did not open it on the day. When I came to retrieve her next day the ribbon was untied. Someone had stolen my present. Was it more that she ran away?
Blue, Bird
One son named Blue and a daughter named Birdy. I’ll tell my son every day that the world wants to see him cry and sing. He will roar and breathe fire letting the world to see his strength. I’ll tell my daughter that the song blackbird isn’t her life story. She will fly meeting many people to learn from. Absorb the confidence, patience, and strength of our ancestors. Learn more, strive for more and people will see your name and color in a different light. I will tell them this because I never grew my strength, I want for them to find and cultivate theirs. To show the world that wisdom and kindness go together and shouldn’t be considered a weakness. That we never really grow up but are able to slowly make the right decisions. That I love them, that they are mine, and I will always cheer for them. I won’t tell them that they are special, that’s something they need to find out themselves. My dear bluebirds I set you free in a dark and cold world; my light always pointing towards warmth and peace.
The Drowning Child
There once was a child born underwater. Her mother felt it safer and a better way to grow her. She lived her days watching her mother and all else walk over her. From where she stood neither way of living looked better. Her mother was sick and kept the extent of it from her, by the time she found out her worst nightmare was upon her. She knew there’d be people wanting to save her, but she wasn’t so sure if they really wanted to help her. The death of her mother made her pull herself further. Under the deep blue filter the people looked smaller, were they just ghosts of what was offered? She questioned if these realms were even for her. So many people arms outstretched above her, still, she just continued to swim down under. As she saw the helping ropes and good blessings she started to realize that she should have never even bothered. Every day is a horror that she cursed these poor people hoping to see the drowning child to touch and comfort. She never learned and didn’t want to, still, she felt bad for the people above her. She should try to live like they, she thought often. She was never able to get past horror. She’s still down under the water filling it with tears and salt hoping to choke her.
Nothing
Nothing. Me, life, dreams, beauty.
Ears, mouth and sighs. Nothing.
No skills, no faith, no time, no feels.
Nothing, wanting more, fear.
Not happy, no one is. Nothing left. Only fear.
Nothing. Fear. Life, death. Difference? None. Last step. Death.
Nothing. Me. Nothing. Death. Freedom.
Adulthood
It kind of feels like you’re still five years old and you get thrown into a fire pit
No warning that there is such a thing that could hurt so much
No rules on how to get out of it
Just burning
While in this fire you will meet other people who are on fire
Their fire seems less hot and easier to deal with
You try to learn their ways only to have it backfire
You wonder why no one taught you any of this
What was all that education for?
What were parents, teachers, and professors for?
They stand there soaking wet as you burn
All the while saying how proud they are
“Proud that I’m dying?”
“We went through it. You’ll be ok”
Forget this system of misinformation
Only One
I hate how life feels like
A dog on a treadmill chasing after a steak
Pretending that we all know what we are doing
Judging others only on what we can see
Is it wrong of me to see everyone’s beauty?
Is it wrong of me to see the unnecessary?
I would much rather enjoy life
It must have been manufactured by a lunatic
It doesn’t have to be so hectic
What if you are the type of person that just wants to exist?
Why is that so wrong?
When you try so hard to get somewhere but you really didn’t get anything at all
Am I the only one?