Honest Poem (Unfinished)

If you put your arms
Around my waist, beware
You might get them back
Covered in bobby pins
That I save to secure
All of my imperfections
But I live for the day
When someone will put
Their hands in my hair
Pulling each unruly strand free.

I’m told I’m kind,
But I’m confused,
I choose human decency
Over thoughts in my head
Kindness is an obligation
Not rose colored glasses
Not to be praised
So when you say I’m kind,
I’m not humble when I dismiss it,
I wonder if it just says more about you
Then me.

I forget to speak,
Sometimes on purpose
Because I would rather
Not deal with your disbelief
When you are wrong,
And I,
Could not
Possibly
Know
Better,
And your love does not make it okay.

I am okay with being alone, though
Probably too content,
But it’s easier to deal with my thoughts
Without yours to drown them out
I’m not saying it’s your fault
My heart doesn’t know
How to love at 75%
It will beat only for you
Forget about its needs
Blood and oxygen to pump
To keep your vessel looking new.

(This is totally unfinished, just kinda hit a wall. Just wanted to get a feel of the poem so far out in the world in its very, very premature state. Any feedback is appreciated:)

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Backlash

You have disappeared for a time,
making me see what life
is like with out you,
and I like it.

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I see what you did there.
Now, that I am in the clear,
But then, I couldn’t see past my tears.
The pain had created a wall,
In between my anxiety and reason,
Closing any backdoor to gain insight
To what you could clearly see,
But I trusted you blindly,
Even if that meant I was running into mirrors.

If I had still been there now,
It just seems implausible,
Like a chapter that doesn’t flow
With the rest of my story,
To be analyzed for eternity for its existence.
You saw where it would all go wrong,
So instead,
You decided to rip out my heart six chapters early.
No anesthesia or scalpel.

Small waves still wash over the scar
That was left by your hand,
As if you panicked mid scene,
Suddenly aware of the time line,
A car heading into oncoming traffic,
The only thought was to put it to a halt,
You reached into the spine,
Pulling at the true beat of the story,
The melody was fading.

It needed a refresher,
A course in Who Am I 101,
I was at a standstill,
I couldn’t move from A to B,
A malfunction in the wiring,
Looping back around to the starting point,
The part was good,
But it didn’t know how to be selfish,
It needed to learn to request new elements.

So I see what you did there,
You saved me.
I would have been too fargone,
Lost completely to a world,
Where I want to accompany the melody,
My story is flowing at full speed,
I know my purpose.
I forgive you for ripping me apart,
The pain now just a reminder.

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For Her

My lord,

I’m praying again.

You must be tired of my voice

But please,

I wouldn’t waste your time,

It is for her. 

These prayers are all I have,

I’m getting lost trying to help,

Please. 

You could bring her so much comfort,

So strong and positive, 

She will use every last breath to fight,

But hasn’t she fought enough?

Trial after trial, 

She needs a vacation from trying to survive, 

So she can desperately live

On the other side of the glass window.

It’s a waste for people to not see her soul,

To keep something so beautiful locked up, 

I have witnesses who can attest to her character,

But you should know her well, 

She is filled with your light, 

aching so badly to shine.

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What Was Needed-updated

My Mom says I have a look,
She can see every emotion behind my eyes,
As if there is a movie playing on the walls,
But she didn’t get the invite.
So she watches as a bystander,
Helpless to the thoughts that churn in my head.

I tossed and turned as my nightmares broke through the mirror,
So used to filling the cracks with ink,
Constantly making touch ups until the scenarios become clear,
Until I can make sense of the reality,
A tortured soul lays bruised and bleeding,
Gasping for a breath of virtue.

Reality has turned itself into a padded cell.
I sat in a great common room,
Indian style, hands in my lap.
Wait for the roar that does not come,
Visitors don’t come and go, food does not slide under the door,
Just the silence and the glass on the floor.

Six months:
of no words
of no therapy
of guilt, pain, and confusion
of stab after stab after stab
of darkness.

Drowning,
A new sensation to master.
A notebook and pen my deserted sidekicks.
I was lost without their guidance,
The medicine they produced,
Pushed the water from my lungs so I could float back to the surface.

My lungs heavy,
I was falling and I couldn’t see tomorrow.
My thoughts were frozen in a forever loop,
In the Starbucks line, during my favorite show,
The face that my mother talks about,
Becoming a permanent fixture,
My eyes, the doors to an internal war.

I was gliding through my days when
I noticed a hand print on my shoulder,
In a mirror, I glanced at a pair of hands on my back,
on my chest, another on my wrist,
And the fingerprints woven with words from familiar voices,
Doing the job that I thought only my poetry could do,
Keeping my head above water.

The owners gave encouraging smiles,
Laughs that made my face break character,
Text messages to make sure I was eating,
And when I couldn’t see past the darkness,
They built a campfire in my bedroom,
So at night when I awoke from the nightmares,
I could see their messages of hope on the ceiling.

I leaned on those hands for support until I was swimming,
Full force in open water, no longer weary of unspoken dangers,
Towards any shoreline that could be my new destination,
My anxiety turned into rustling leaves in the bottom of my stomach,
My mother no longer asked what I was watching on the walls,
The darkness now just a scar on my heart,
Six months for it to turn from my present to my past.

I now know what it means to have more than my four walls,
To have more than the words that I wrote down for my sanity,
But my heart still soars while I’m drinking my morning coffee,
A familiar feeling of a fleeting metaphor flies in my mind,
I smile, allowing the words to simmer on the edge of my conscious,
I might get light headed if I move to quickly,
So happy to show them what I have learned in their absence.

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Naively Aware

I have forgotten the song your voice plays
How the notes are imprinted across my soul
They lay dormant
Till they can render your love.

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Purge

it takes time
to find the courage again
to sift through the evidence of your heart break
careful to not be cut from the sharp edges
the previous scars are only just fading
you hold them as if they are delicate flowers
determined to not let them cause you any more pain
you know how to protect yourself now
you have layers of security that no one can hack
you are a fortress with an army that has seen darkness
they don’t want to go back
so you banish the triggers
use the glass from your old heart to rebuild
and when it seems to be too much
you commence a purge of emotions into words
as if your soul is getting a spring cleaning
you know now that you will still be standing
after the coldest of times.

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