Tag: tumblr original poetry

ED

The value of my existence has been
stripped down to a figure.
Input. Output.
I waste away into numbers until all I am is
the addition and subtraction
of nutrients. Of calories and carbs and fats and proteins.
I have pushed myself
out and left
an empty shell

Tired

Of being tired
Of feeling like I’m not

              good enough

alive                happy

         loved. 

Of loneliness
emptiness

            unexplainable sadness.

Of living in fear of the parts of
myself I can’t control. 
Of feeling, 
of living;
of it all. 

Trudy

With cupped hands I show you
the parts of my soul nobody else has
touched.

I am prepared for your eyes
to widen in disgust,
for you to take them
and crush them and
throw them away.

But you hold them,
you know them,
you love them.

And gently, carefully,
you place my darkness back
in my shaking hands.

You have seen all of me and yet
there is only love in your eyes.

Rock-a-Bye, Baby

Nobody warned you
that once I left
the warm walls of your womb,
I would be your sacrifice
to this world;
that I was no longer yours to control.
I was destined to move
with the mountains, to walk
barefoot on the soil and let the soles
of my feet close all gaps between me
and the universe.

And yet you fight—loudly, violently, teeth bared—
to tell the cosmos I am yours.
My first unsteady steps, the first utterances
to tumble from my mouth, my every
achievement and failure
belong to you.
If you cannot have them, no one can,
not even me.

And so you destroy
me
slowly; blindly tearing me apart,
consuming me until
I am once again
completely, undoubtedly, a part
of you. 

As They Gather Dust

I’ve watched them wither. 
I’ve watched as the universe has drawn lines 
on their faces. 
I’ve watched as their hopes were crushed into cynicism, 
their beliefs laughed at by others, and eventually
by themselves. 

Their once perfumed breath now
reeks of accusations.  
Their once strong backs now hunched as they crouch
in the corner. 
Their life is no longer lived for themselves, they say: 
We live for you, it’s all for you.

I’ve watched them, and I am scared. 
Scared to be like them, 
scared that I have done this to them. 

Living

is there a right way to do it?
These days,
I have lost myself:
not in the highs, the news telecasts,
or her eyes.
In a moment.
I am
somewhere in the universe.
I am
every episode of Friends, yesterday’s breakfast burrito,
every 3 a.m. conversation.
I am.
I have shattered myself
into a million tiny pieces,
and it is scary but
liberating.