Tag: poets of tumblr

the whole world’s
pulsing
at sixty two beats per minute.
you can feel it
in the rain. i’m not sure
if it’s a ticking time bomb
waiting to explode 
or if something in the 
gears are jammed. 
i just wanted to 
stop spinning
for a while.

dizzy // a.s.m

you’re close enough to me
that i can see your eyes,
but they are
somewhere far away
from here. and so we sit
on the couch in silence,
me reading my book, you
staring into space and repeating
the same five lines from a song
i don’t know.
i really do feel like you’re on some
other side, you know.
mom’s crying on the kitchen floor,
stabbing holes into
cellophane because
at least when grandma died,
her body didn’t haunt us anymore.

Heroin, Pt. II // a.s.m

we’re drunk
and i ask if i can kiss you
even though i don’t
wait for an answer.
i feel your lips move with mine.
this is the first time
we’re dancing. your eyes
look different than they do
from far away.
have they always
had this much to say?
have they always been burning
holes in my heart?

i’m so much braver in my dreams // a.s.m

you have been used
by the world for too long.
your edges are
becoming soft. you are collapsing
under the
weight of this world
while giving him a piggyback.
you must let him hit
the ground before he can learn how
to pick himself back up.
you can’t chase him through the
playground anymore, he is lost
in mazes you would never be able
to escape from.
you cannot help him
find the way out when you are
just as lost yourself. 

run away
from the place he’s landed.
take time to develop the strength
to breathe
life back into his lungs
for when he finally decides
he wants to live again.

for Nectar in regards to my brother’s heroin addiction: i know you are his mother, but you cannot do anything to help him until he is ready to help himself. // a.s.m

my biggest fear growing up was that i would become like you. there were always so many unanswered questions haunting your eyes. there was always something fragile– even when you yelled– the cracks in your voice made you seem so breakable.

like a flattened beer can on the street, life has run you over so many times that the solid roads in your eyes are turning to mud. you’ve been here before and you know there is only one way it can end. you’ve already lived this life once over and you know how you die. you’re too damn tired to prevent yourself from doing it again.

i’d only ever seen life as an assembly line of inheritance, where every daughter becomes the mother she said she’d never be. now i’ve looked myself in the eye and seen only green: only life, only potential for growth.

i am not made of the same eroding roads as you. i am green grass grown in dark fertile soils. i am soft earth, permeable earth, the earth that recycles itself. i dig my roots deep in the soil, and nothing can uproot me. i shout the depths of my heart into the stars at night and my meditations hum in the rise of the sun.

i find my strength in the soil.
i discover my voice within the wind.
my passion burns with fire. i gain
perspective from monstrous oceans.
i was born from the womb of this planet.

i could not be you, even if i tried.

i’m not so scared of being like you anymore // a.s.m

THINGS YOU DON’T SEE IN THOSE ‘THINSPO’ PHOTOS: self-hatred that weighs far more than any number on a scale. vomit stains on your favorite crop top. hating food but being able to think of nothing else. taking four hours to go grocery shopping because you have to read every goddamn label. your partner fearing their fingertips will break you. running in the park but being so focused on your heart rate monitor that you don’t admire the way the leaves are changing. hunger. HUNGER. HUNGER so deep it hurts. nausea. fainting when you stand up to give a presentation in class. always keeping Altoids in your purse. storing laxatives in the kitchen cabinet because you can’t go without them anymore. emptying your stomach to ignore the emptiness elsewhere. numbers. numbers. you never even liked math but now everything is numbers. everyone is numbers. getting high just so you can eat food and not feel guilty. feeling guilty anyway. hating yourself. self-hatred like boulders in your backpack. self-hatred that weighs far more than any number on a scale.

things you don’t see in “thinspo” photos // a.s.m

your doe eyes only know
innocence.
your lungs still breathe love.
your cheek against my 
hand, so trusting that
i will not
hurt you.
you fall asleep beside me,
sure that i will still be
by your side
when the skies turn
orange.

i wish i could trust so easily // a.s.m

i want
my fingers to tell
the story of how the
freckles on your collarbones
burst into stars under
my lips. you are an
entire galaxy beneath me
and i have
fallen hopelessly into you.
i am not quite sure
i could find my way
out if i wanted to.

i’ve fallen into a galaxy // a.s.m