how selfish am I
to live this life,
to see through these eyes,
to want to die?how selfish am I
to laugh with ease
to seek joy when
there is suffering?how selfish am I
to strive to calm
the storm inside?
is it selfish
to survive?
whispers and giggles
(they never raise their voice).
they never speak louder than
the rain
they are sprouted from.
i have been waiting.
through skin untouched
and sallow love.
i have been waiting;
i believe
it has been for you.could it be
you are a shadow from
my dreams?
your voice,
where have i heard that
tone?
why does it sound so much
like home?
i miss you.
every minute part of you
is not with me,
i miss you.
you can jump out of an airplane but
be too scared to ask your waitress
for ketchup.there is no method to the madness
we are.but i know you will make room
in your heart for the things
you are on fire for, because
those are what keep you living.
when you want something badly enough,
you will face your fears for it.
i found you
three days after you died.
i walked into your office and
found you hunched over your desk,
your face deteriorating
into your coffee mug.i picked you up and threw you
over my shoulder.
your knuckles dragged on the sidewalk
the entire walk home.we wrapped you
in all your favorite scarves and
put you in a coffin
filled with salt-water taffy.
while they sang ‘der voghormia,’ i growled,
and the sky echoed me.i growled
at your scarves and your
salt-water taffy and your
face. for the first time
in years, you looked peaceful.
i growled and growled until they
started shoveling the dirt in.the sky boomed on the drive home.
i saw your face in the windshield,
contorted into a sneer, your eyes
glazed over, your nostrils flared.your face in the ground,
so pale, so silent, so peaceful.
so peaceful.
Who I am now is neither who I used to be nor who I’ll always be.
i never hear the ocean
when i put shells to
my ear. instead, i hear
His heavy breathing
from behind as
He pushes me on my bed.
on my disney princess sheets.
instead, i hear the sound
of the washing machine, loaded
with those sheets. those
bloody sheets.
instead, i hear Him
in every creak and groan in
every corner of the house,
each gust of wind that blows
when I walk home alone, every
breath I took after He broke me:
too heavy, too shallow.
hissing and foaming.
you were the first person
i ever tried to convince myself
i did not love.
you were the first time
i denied the lava in my stomach.you were perfect for me.
there was nothing about us
that didn’t make sense,
and yet i turned away.for some reason,
i have such good timing
but such bad luck, and so
i always end up in the
arms of the wrong people.
i always end up
alone again.even when i feel alone,
you are there to console me.
and i have finally realized that
if i were with you, you probably
wouldn’t have to be consoling me.
with you, i would be happy.
and that scares me.
if you saw me today,
would you still think
i was beautiful?
if you saw my shaved
head and trembling hands,
would you still
not stay?
if i walked by you
now, in a shirt and slacks,
would you even realize
you had kissed these
unpainted lips?
if you saw me today, would
you be grateful you left
me?
Silenticel 