i want to bleed tonight.
when nothing makes sense
i want to bleed out because
my heart’s not beating right.i want to bleed tonight because
deep wounds heal eventually; my
favorite reminder that everything ends
up alright.i bleed because i need to know
i am flesh and blood and not a ghost.
there are no words that i could write
to fully repaint that summer night:
the grass deep green, the sky blood red
the thoughts of death flooding my headthe ghost of your warm hands in mine
mem’ries of green eyes and lips of wine
the only thing i wanted to do
was tangle myself back up in youi sat and watched the city lights
the day slowly melting to night
the way the moon shone– like your face–
drowned the city lights in graceyou left no beauty when you went
my mind gone numb, my heart left spent
i lost control, then came the tears
alone with all my greatest fearsthose tears i shed, the guilt i felt
can’t change the cards that i’ve been dealt
and with each step your face will fade
one day i’ll breathe without you, unafraid.
i long to be just as the earth,
knowing words are merely what people say.
i’ve suffered through the pain of birth
only from her to be torn away.my entire life i’ve yearned
to be near to her beating heart,
with time, with patience i have learned
an open mind is where it starts.it seems to us a mystery–
how can we hear our mother talk?
don’t rush through life in such hurry;
she speaks in footsteps as you walk.all she humbly asks of us:
to look at every living thing,
to see the beauty and genius
and feel the joy to her they bring.
i’ve been cursed
by the ones before
to only know how to
touch and destroy.
may i teach my children to
kiss the cracks
in the parched earth, to
still the storms within their souls
by filling themselves with
leaves and soil and small miracles,
to love the collective
life that binds us all
into one large breath,
to respect all living, breathing
beings, to find their
steady pulse within
the soil beneath their bare
feet. so that they may
finally feel the freedom
of knowing the truth: that
we are all soil, too.
it is hard for me to believe
sometimes
that you were once naked
and crying, too.
you were once
twenty and counting
the ways to escape.
you were once taught truths
which later dissolved
underneath you.
you were once soft
and glowing with hope and
the certainty of tomorrow.
you once laughed
without the reek of bitterness
and stale cigarettes:
you were in love,
once.
you were once
free.
and i think
that perhaps i could have
loved you, once.
perhaps when you look at me,
you still see
yourself.
i’ve memorized the words
to every line
on your face.
i know the notes that play
in the background
of your mind.
i know by heart the rhythm
of your heartbeat.
i know every single part of the song
you’re living, and
i love it.
my mind cannot breathe.
there is too much pain
in here– it has been
sitting for quite some time;
rotting.
suffocating
me.
i can always find home
in a well-lived soul.
i want to wrap myself in a blanket
cocoon and fall asleep on
an old couch that devours me the way
your arms do.i want to curl up on
your broken-in body and
read the stories in your scars;
i want to read every damn book
on the shelf.
i want you to tell me stories about all
the different places you collected
the wisdom in your eyes.i can find home in you
like my favorite sandals: the ones with
my footprints molded in, the ones with
creases at the bends of my
feet, the ones with
creases at the corners of your
eyes when you smile.
Silenticel 