Tuesday, October 17, 2017

me too


there's broken glass on the bathroom floor again. i sometimes wonder if our neighbors can hear the shatters through their wall, and if so, do they care. as i sweep up the pieces i can see my reflection on the ground looking pale. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
you always lovingly suggest i wear pants to school the next day, "you don't want anyone asking you what happened."
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
i nod. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
as i pick up the last piece of glass with my fingers i realize how fragile we all are; your temper, my body, our family. maybe one day we can keep something intact for once. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

Monday, October 9, 2017

i wish I could say she grew old right before my eyes, but i don't believe that to be true. she appeared to inherit two decades worth of wrinkles and a slightly less energetic stride overnight. 

i have taken her aging body with a slight disinterest, until thinking of my own. when before she would rise at dawn and stay up past midnight, she now lays and rises to the sunlight, in almost complete synchronicity.  will i too wake up one morning with a new set of lines upon my face? 
will i move slower to accommodate life's change of pace? 

Sunday, October 1, 2017

may you find the flowers and breeze you have always wanted.

i hope you have gained the confidence to wear your hair up like you practiced so many times before leaving the house with it down. i expect that your lips are still stained red from the beet juice you religiously drink every morning. and that you still smell of that sunflower perfume, the one that always made me sneeze. i sometimes miss your voice telling me to talk more, instead of just taking you in. 

i hope you found those flowers, and figured out that you are the breeze. 

Tuesday, September 19, 2017

find inspiration in the shadows.
the chords you have been so desperately searching for are at the bottom of that bottle; be careful not to drink away the melody again.

find the blank pages that you swore you would fill with ease and dedicate them to your past. find the soft tissue that you violently and repeatedly abuse, it won't be going anywhere.

find and differentiate, between darkness and shadows. don't be fooled by the night's invitation to dance and lay with her. when it's this dark in our smoke-filled corner, it's hard to tell who's who any more.

Monday, September 4, 2017

presence

it's a connection built lifetimes ago, full of beautiful vulnerability.

perhaps it's a coincidence in the crossing of our paths. perhaps my mind isn't used to all the openness my heart is willing to extend. there's a definite change in the perception of my being, my presence. there's a leap that has been taken in the trust of your words. perhaps it was a mere coincidence, but i feel as though i may have loved you before. something inside of me reaches out in familiarity and yearning. perhaps we've been down this road before, though i don't seem to recall.

Tuesday, August 29, 2017

there's a sweet stillness within her. 

she always knows where to place her hands and how to have her head just slightly tilted. she listens intensely, nodding in agreement every few minutes while never breaking her eye contact. there's this sweet smirk she gives when you compliment her and it makes her entire face glow. she makes you feel like there is no one else who could possibly be more important or interesting than you. 

 i wonder who listens to her stories or what drives her excitement. i've actually never asked her about herself, i don't know that anyone has.

Monday, August 21, 2017

cuts

you can pretend you've never counted, but i know those scars on your arms are actually tally marks and the exact amount is burned into your mind. i can see that every scab is a map and your bruises are invitations to sleepless nights. 

you can stop hiding all the bandaids and iodine, since we all know it doesn't do much anyway. at least the stinging is real... perhaps later you can show me the ones you've managed to keep covered. 

feel free to lose control now.  scream, get loud. it would be a wonderful change from the cold silence.

Monday, June 19, 2017

smoke

walking into smoke-filled rooms with silhouettes
you start moving closer to their flowered scents 
you sense the warmth coming off their skin 
until you can finally see their face's grins
you see the aches and pains on lit-up faces
inked, soft skin, and their close embraces
sober yet dizzy, you try to stay still
you keep your hands steady only through pure will
they finish their dance, some finish their drinks
you shake off the feeling of being in sync 
until the next night, you're summoned to come
you can keep fighting it, you'll always succumb

Monday, May 29, 2017

outside my window



i woke up thirsty and cold that night. 

i laid awake until i thought to look out and find him there. right against the glass, as if he'd been there for hours, waiting for me to wake up. i noticed him standing still, save for the wind in his hair. it never crossed my mind that this should be alarming; i possibly even called for him. 


regardless, that's where i left him. i couldn't fall back asleep, but i also couldn't get up. maybe that's all he needed, for me to know that he could see me, and always would. 

Tuesday, May 2, 2017

when it's mental




my heart slowly begins to race as the trail steepens. i attempt to maintain control but it bursts outside of my chest, past its allowed rate. my breathing quickens and my pores begin to perspire. there's an ounce of darkness that lingers over my thoughts and thighs, over my weak quads and smaller calves. the darkness lingers longer but then evaporates as the sun begins to set. my body becomes familiar with the dirt underneath my feet and my heart stabilizes. my breathing deepens and i begin to exhale gratitude. my body has carried me before, and it will carry me again.