(an ongoing piece detailing my weak spine)
- I would lose my sight to the sun before I blink and miss it again.
- Thinking is something I’ve always done, but can you believe that the earth rotates without a thought? As I think until I become nothing, the earth keeps turning.
- I haven’t considered you in so long that you became another universe: untouchable and foreign, like a stranger on the street. Yet I remember how you spoke when your grandpa died, and the way you would talk about home. Not quite a poet, but your words came together the same way.
- I am still lonely, but I made it to twenty-three.
- Your words feel cut and dry, like any poem found in the beginning of a paper thin novella. You think: “Speak and they will listen,” but its all been said before. A curse of the human condition.
- At sunset: “Look at the sky!”
But you’re always too late, my voice miles away, the day turned to night.
- Touch is a love language you don’t know how to speak and all I can do is beg for you to talk, talk, talk.
- I’ve never felt more like a second thought than when you remind me of your first.
- Nothing makes me feel less beautiful than when you close your eyes, touch me, and sigh.
- And with your soul to match my sadness I think I will be okay. Your light will help outshine my dark.
(to be continued…)
And my heart withers,
like flowers without water
when will my body stop
I am breathing!
I am trying!
I am biting my skin!
Sweat pours from my pores;
I am all alone
and my heart withers.
Will you think of me when
this world turns to dust?
or will it all be too much?
I will scream
what can i say?
when you’re on the floor
your body no longer yours,
do you pray? or
do you linger on the edge,
wondering how far it will push you
until you fall?
I cannot see past
Like another battle
I don’t have the energy
(Here’s a poem that reflects my consistent internal dialogue!)
I can’t tell you what I feel like because
Even I don’t know what I feel like;
It’s more of a mess of colors like,
Blues and reds
With hints of green,
But only because your eyes are green,
And this is coming off kind of strong but
Did you know you say all the right things sometimes?
But all the wrong things the other times,
And although you don’t always listen,
When you do listen,
And that means more than you know,
Or I know
Or they know—
Look I don’t know how to end this
Or stupid run on sentence,
Just like I don’t know how to tell you
“I love you” or
that I’m lost when you’re absent.
From: Me, in the middle of the Pride Parade
June 10, 2017
It hurt me to know that
There was more love for you
Amongst thousands of strangers
Than in your own home.
I wanted to cry when I saw
Families proclaim their pride
For their sons and daughters,
Because it’s what you deserved.
I’m sorry I can’t change your family’s mind;
They don’t know what they’re missing.
I love how strong men cry
when they are no longer strong.
When their lives are on the line,
do you really think they care
about their beliefs?
About the hate they preached?
It was just a game anyhow,
they never really cared about
the People they promised they
Only the ways in which these
where their compassion should lie;
living where their heart should be.
At the end of the day,
we are nothing,
besides tools for their victories.
A noise reverberates in the emptiness that exists
In the space where you end and I begin.
It’s a ringing with a pitch high enough that if you don’t
stop and listen hard enough, you would miss it.
Sometimes I hear this noise in the moments before your
Breath gets deeper and you fall asleep,
Sometimes I hear it when you stop kissing me just long
Enough to look at me and smile.
Tonight my ears are ringing with the sound of us,
And it’s like I’ve never heard music before.
I see what you mean at every turn, even the sun disappears
And it won’t tell me why. Somedays I wake up to grey skies
And curse the day before when I didn’t kiss it harder.