Been squinting at the sun
For far too long-
Waiting for the angels to
Tell me I’m wrong.
But a higher power has
Yet to come down,
And God is a word we speak when
No one else is around.
We are taught insignificance
From the very first,
So to be the best we can
Is the very worst.
And whoever is up looks
Down on all the rest
We strive to be something, just
Never our best.
Death, it would seem, only speaks
Of life
For when we lose those we love
We say their memories
Like incantations;
Making every moment precious again.
When your wine glass is
Too heavy;
Full of things
You shouldn’t say
And moments you’re already sorry for.
Stumbling through life
With stars on cheeks
And half-closed eyes,
You sip to the future.
You drink to the past.
You gulp to the present.
Your glass makes you
A goddess and all it’s weight
Can’t keep you grounded.
We all suffer
But everybody bleeds at a different pace;
Some have cauterized their wounds
And some are bleeding out.
The difference between you and I is
You have opened your veins
With the hope of ending the suffering
As I’ve been cleanching my wrists for years
Dying to get better.
And we are both in so much pain
But you glorify your misfortune and pray for life to hurt you
So that you can have more reasons
To suffer, so you can justify cutting deeper.
And while some of us want to be whole,
Some of us want to be alright again,
You get off from the pain
Because suffering is your only companion.
It is people like you who never really bleed out,
Only bleed on
And stain the rest of us crimson.
You can’t;
Run.
Honeysuckle strung along a fence
In the same yard where hands grasped her by the neck
The mulberry tree that swung its branches out over
The same pool where he tried to keep her from coming up for air
How do you get to Memory Lane?
You start with a beautiful thing and you remember
How he broke it
Postcard I never sent
Because of words I never meant
To write, for eyes to see;
No one to know but me.
Long nights I never spent
Better for what you thought you'd meant
To say, but couldn't do,
No one to know but you.
Now herein lies my discontent,
The best hours of our lives are spent
On a love we couldn't keep or last;
The best of us is in the past.
Lines like lacquered bridges binding
Page to edge; the courage it takes
To break from our form.
When we are all pieces
With a place where we crack
The pawn and queen become equally worn.
To ask for self-definition
But weep when we're broken
Is the ultimate lie that we tell-
For if what we really wanted
Was to learn of ourselves,
We'd loosen our limbs at the fell.
