Coffee, Dreams, and Words

Right time. Right place. Right person.

It was so cold I grew numb and exhausted. But I knew stopping meant never getting out.

So on I walked. I walked so hard and long I went mad. Yelling. Kicking. Screaming. Crying. So much crying.

I am forced to live so I will force life to make me thrive.

I refuse to go through all this for nothing.

If my story is written in the stars I will rearrange those stars.

My life may have started as a tragedy that I am forced to endure.

My life will end in glory and plenty that life was forced to yield to me.

But I'm not alive for me. I'm alive for everyone else and everything else but me. If I'm not here to tend the garden, no one will and the birds will leave and the flowers will die. If I'm not here, your salty tears will replace the ocean where we fell in love. If I'm not here I don't think my sister will smile again and I think my brother will drink himself to death.

Like the Phoenix has risen from disaster and pain, so shall I.

Ashes and coals can make for fertile soils and I intend to grow a forest.

I will create a life so beautiful that not even I will remember how it began.

From this barren and gray land, I shall make flowers of all colors bloom.

Butterflies and moths will fill the air and crickets will play melodies as I sleep.

Trees will fill the sky and the birds will sing their songs of love and war.

From these ashes, life will grow and flourish.

I love you now until forever. No matter what happens, I will fix it.

I hid you in my room when mom and dad fought and I'll hide you in my room when the gods fight and the universe tries to drown you.

I cleaned your playground battle scars with too much rubbing alcohol. I will clean your adult battle scars with too much drinking alcohol.

I make a big deal of being annoyed for paying for your things but to be honest, nothing makes me happier than seeing you smile.

Stepping into adult life is hard and scary, but I get to hold your hand and help you. I will gladly work harder and better to make sure you are given what you deserve and that you don't have to suffer the same mistakes I did.

I promise you it's not going to be easy. I promise you you will be overwhelmed. But I promise you I will always make sure you have a place to sleep, food to eat, a hand to hold, and a place to go.

They're brown like a mudslide. Like a week old blood stain. Like a stirred up puddle.

My eyes are brown like rotting wood and decaying leaves. Like metal that has been rust-eaten for too long.

My eyes are the same color as destruction, rot, and endings and you still question why I'm not sweet and containable.

That I should keep going because it will be so beautiful.

I kept pushing and trying to capture the beauty.

I won photography awards. I wrote stories and poems that made people laugh and cry.

I give people memories that last years who seek me out to remind me how much I impacted them.

And yet I don't hold any of that beauty. I give it all away.

When will it be my turn to see why I need to keep going?

Flashes of unwanted images in my brain.

I have to put the knife down gently.

I have to brush my teeth again. Again. Again.

Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again.

Water is dripping. Dripping. Dripping. Dripping.

Did you leave the tap on? No? Yes? Redo everything.

Can't close your eyes. Can't keep them open.

Check all the doors and windows again. You did it wrong. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again.

Shake your head slowly and put the hot pan down gently. Go wash your hands.

Again. Again. Again. Again. Again.

It's crazy how three little letters can make you so mad.

O

C

D

Spilling tears and wishes for the girl I will never be

Yelling. Screaming. Shaking. Wishing it was different.

I hate how tainted my story is.

Everyone paints me like a shakespear tragedy.

I can't take baths anymore. I can't go down a street.

It's the same story and scenario on repeat.

I just want to be different.

You're drowning in it.

And you just want more.

Ever so gluttonous.

Bury me in love.

But let me live.

A century of you

Will never be enough.

Let me reincarnate.

A thousand lifetimes of you

Will never be enough.

Let my soul rest with yours.

As for the first time in love

I am met with lips, not a fist.

They carve salty valleys

As for the first time in love

I am given praise, not truculence.

And as the tears carve their red paths on my skin, I am met with a fist, but a gentle one to end their journey short. I am met with lips and kindness and warmth. I am given patience and love.