Sometimes
all of the world is on my shoulders.
The pain is a noose around my neck,
tight and threatening.
Have you ever been overwhelmed
by the hatred in our hearts?
Some days it seems so right
to jump.
pain
[Of love] 018.
Sometimes, I hurt you.
What I wouldn’t do
to take it back, every time.
There should never be a time
you don’t smile.
When time stands still
I’m standing in the kitchen
with my yolky heart still beating,
split wide like an egg
from all the words my mouth won’t say.
I don’t tell you
about the raging war
that’s tearing me inside out.
I can’t tell you
about the tsunami
in my head, won’t stop til I’m dead-
I’m worth less alive.
You know, you know
I’m a little upside-down now.
Your eyes are a hurricane themselves,
torn by love and hurt,
the god-damn perfect storm.
The clock’s chatter keeps us silent,
time says it all. We’ve done did it all.
I’m a wind-up doll,
left to sit in a shop
on the very back shelf
all by myself.
And it doesn’t hurt at all.
Destruction
Your body has transformed
From the havoc-wreaked form
I hurt to see to a pristine model
Of whom you’re supposed to be
Lying there in front of me.
Your eyes are closed
Like the curtains of a house
When no one’s home:
What are they afraid we’ll see?
Is there anything left within you
Worth stealing, worth taking
And making our own?
Or do they hide from us
The bitter realization that you
Aren’t there at all.
You are not sleeping,
You are not even you, anymore.
You’re a vacant house with
The eviction notice of your poised hands
Glaring at us, promising us
This is the end.
There are tears falling
From the eyes of on-lookers
Who cannot fathom your lack of being.
This means no more suffering,
This means you’ve become a mansion
In some other-worldly life.
That’s what we tell ourselves.
But all we really know
Is that you’ve gone.
The far-reaching makeup
And fancy clothing
Does no justice to the life
That is no longer a part of you.
You are an abandoned building sitting before me,
You will soon be weathered and worn.
You will soon be no more
Than the skeleton
Of what was once a home.
In Due Time
A poem about the pain of watching a loved one die.
Your bony branches are bowed
And your leaves are withered
Wrinkles on your face.
Your sunshine eyes have dimmed
To a mid-twilight defeat.
Your melodic laughter has
Grown silent as the rain of a storm
Unfinished falls from your eyes.
The person I see before me
Is a skeleton of someone I once knew,
Someone I once loved.
The sands of time have eroded
What we once shared,
Your twister-like behavior uprooted
The sacred family tree.
Yesterdays collapse before me
Demanding forgiveness and sympathy.
I see in your eyes the secret fact of life
I try to obscure from my consciousness:
There is no security in this game
Of chance.
There is no guarantee of good yielding good,
Or bad yielding bad.
There is only one certainty.
That my bones, too, will bow;
That my leaves, too, will wither;
That my eyes, too, will fall in defeat.
You look at me with dulled blue orbs
Of insanity, impartiality, loss—
Begging for some relief from the knowledge
That you are forced to face.
As you approach death, I want nothing more
Than to hold your hand.
I’m lost inside and it’s finally starting to show, and I know you know.
Feel.
We’re feeling beings.
It’s what we do.
We feel, we feel, we feel. We try to explain our feelings. Try to express ourselves.
But what, then, when there’s no expression? No explanation? Just the overwhelming emotion.
And you’re drowning in life, because all there is around you is what you feel.
Feel.
Feel.
There’s no escaping the feelings.
No escaping the nature of our human form, we feel. We can hate it as much as we want, deny it until we’re dead, but we feel.
That’s how life is.
And right now, I’m feeling. I’m feeling so hard, and it’s overpowering every other aspect of me. Because I’ve never felt so much, and never felt so enclosed. There’s no outlet for the feeling I can’t describe, no way to put forth the emotions I can’t escape.
So I feel.
And I know you feel too.
Because I can feel you. I can feel this. I can feel the desperation, the duress of a test that we weren’t prepared for. I know. You’re not alone, but you feel it. I’m right here, but I’m nowhere near. Because I can’t be who I want to be, who you need, who I’ve spent so much time trying to become. I can’t even be myself, with all the feelings overpowering my being.
So what is it then? What is this chaos-stricken insanity that we so willingly feed with emotion?
And when will it end?
Letter to another.
The last time I saw you seems so long ago
I see the transformations in the pictures and descriptions
And I’m scared to believe this reality I cannot conceive
My hands shake as I write the words I can’t bear to face
Once upon a time things were good and life seemed right
Yours and mine combined, close and unable to be parted
I remember the lies that broke my heart, shattered what I knew
Worse and worse it got, distance between our lives grew
I hated you. I hated you for starting problems I didn’t understand
And years later I hate you for wrecking the life I loved
Crazy, I used to say, she’s crazy and I hate her
You’re crazy, alright, and I’m so damn sorry
I’m sorry for every time I wished you dead, and I did–I have to admit
I’m sorry for every bad word I said, for the things I heard
I’m sorry for the neglecting reaction to things we didn’t understand
God, I’m sorry, and it’s too late for you to hear me
I’m sorry that in my head you’re already dead
Because the thought of your suffering and condition hurts too much
I’m sorry that your zombie eyes, the description of your hyena laugh sets my hair on end
And I think of it in torment
I’m sorry that I won’t see you because I’m afraid what the experience will do to me for years down the road
I know that I was wrong, that we were wrong all along
I know that words mean nothing and remorse can’t undo what’s done
I don’t know how to handle this
How to keep my distance, or remove the distance
How to look at the pictures
Locked on my phone
And see you
Rather than the illness, the crazy, the impending death
That awaits you
Hey You, 