loch

Two thousand miles separates us

But I swear I can feel you next to me

When it’s suddenly five in the morning and all I want to do is talk to you

You speak to me about Maine like it’s your first born child

Like it’s why you continue living

It’s beautiful

I don’t usually feel this way

The need to be dependent

You make me weak and destroy the walls I have built up so many times

I’ll tell my best friend hours prior how I have no attachment

I’m living for myself

But whatever is meant to be wont pass me by

And I’m willing to chase after this.

You sent me pictures you took of the night sky after I expressed to you the love I hold for it

Like you’re trying to convince me you’re capable of giving me what I love

And desire

You are the moon

And the stars

That I search for at night.

I wait patiently for the clouds to diverge

Bringing the moon back into my view

I’ll wait for you to be in my view

You have me entranced

Like the night sky does

So effortlessly

I am losing sleep over you every night

My insisted need to sleep early is disregarded on my end once time enters a new day

I drift off at my desk at work but it’s worth it

You’re worth it

I want this more than I want air

And the idea of counting without you seems like a death sentence

But I won’t share these thoughts to you

As the various airline websites sit

Their open tabs all point to your location

I consider how far this has gone

Your eyes match mine

And all I want to do is look at them

I’ll be united within your irises

I say three Hail Marys before I leave the house

In a whisper

I say Grace before I eat dinner

In my head My brother makes fun of me when he hears me pray

My mom is the most Catholic woman I know

She carries a San Miguel pendant everywhere she goes

Sometimes they end up in my clothes

The rattle as they fall on the floor scares me

I’m protected from evil she tells me

And temptation

I beg to differ

My second oldest brother is in a state of religious psychosis

And he says that when Redemption Day comes

God’s gonna get me

I pray for my brother a lot

I pray that he gets sober

I pray that when he’s sober he’s nice to me

I pray that when he’s nice to me he will tell me he loves me

I pray that when he tells me he loves me

I could slightly believe him

None of these have come to fruition

When I pray I don’t feel anything too special

It feels like a routine

Like an obligation

I’ve been waiting for my period of eternal salvation to hit me

And I can finally feel like I’m doing something right

Instead I search for this emotion of redemption in other places

Like the sand on the lake 19 miles away from my home

Like the second step down on my backporch

Like my windowsill when the screen is removed

And my lungs are pleading with me to stop

I tell people I drink more than I smoke

But I drink more than I laugh lately

My friend tells me I need to take a step back

I tell him its okay

I don't like to think I have a problem

In regards to most things

I just think all of the time

And I can’t seem to stop it

I got so drunk I cried myself to sleep last night

But before I dozed off face down in my pillow

I told my other friend I would rather be sad than feel nothing

But I think I lied

Because I feel everything all of the time

I just don't know how to word it

I don’t know why I drink all the time

I don’t know why I smoke 

I don’t really like how it makes me feel to a certain extent

I guess it makes me feel like my brother

Like if I have two more shots I’m going to tell my mom

How much she ruined my life and laugh in her face

But I’ve yet to do that

But I just keep drinking

And my last friend tells me to go to bed

But I keep the bottle in my hand

I feel religious when I drink

Like the only thing that matters is the bottle of vodka

Like I’m in complete control

I stare at myself in the mirror for ten minutes

I trim my bangs

I turn on my tv

But I can’t pick what to watch

So it’s quiet

And I start thinking

I take another swig from the bottle

I don’t need a chaser

And my brain keeps going

And I just can’t shut it off

So I’m calling everyone I know

I tell them I miss them

I take another drink

And they don’t question it

At least not to my face

I hang up suddenly

I lay on my back

And I cry

It's a ritual

It’s religious

Like I’m praying

I’ve been spending a lot of time trying to forget what it felt like to fall asleep on your chest

With your right arm wrapped around me

I don’t like to make these types of actions a big deal

I’ve fallen asleep next to a handful of other men

But when were both drunk

I find myself in a unique position

Where all I want is you

I can’t hold eye contact with you for very long

Either due to nerves or the fact that my eyes will daze down to your lips or your body

But when I do it’s like you are looking into me

You know my motives

I will never know yours

Except for when I see your body lower onto your knees

And your hands navigate to the air

And I’ll place them onto my hips

I know you like it when I do that

You give me the illusion of control

We both know I'm loyal to however and whenever you want me

Your lips are placed on and off of my thighs and around my body

Your eye contact is killing me

You know what you do to me and how it kills me

We both know I won’t do anything about it

Except tell you that I think you’re

“So fucked up”

Which you are

I hope you’re aware

I can’t find the correct words anymore

I promise I used to be able to do this

But then I stopped enduring abuse and killing myself

Now all I can seem to write about is unreciprocated feelings 

And being mad at my mother

Maybe I’m trying too hard

To make my thoughts that strangle me

Into something beautiful

I have found beauty in everything

I can do anything I put my mind into

My words

Either handwritten or typed

All feel so similar

Merged into one

And I hate all of it

I haven’t been proud of a poem for a year or so

I feel horrible subjecting someone to the act of reading the words that circle around my brain

The attention is overwhelming

I feel as if I have created such a high standard only for myself

And it suffocates me

I can’t think of another line so I guess I should just stop

My whole life has been an attempt of being great and I just can’t do it anymore

I need you to know that you’re killing me

The smell of your weed lingers on me

On your sweatshirt I stole back in December

Intertwined within the thread,

Embedded if you will

It makes me sick to my stomach

I’ve been nauseous since the first night I stepped out my dorm buildings door

Your car waiting 20 feet away

I don’t think you really know me

My body is memorized within the folds of your brain

My frustration and concerns are foreign

I’m telling you I don’t want this

Are you hearing me?

I don’t want to have to yell

It just seems like you only hear me when my voice cracks

And when I say something a little too mean

I just want you to be okay

I could disregard my feelings for a century

I have sat with the same guilt for all of the 

19 years

3 months

And 12 days I’ve been alive

But I know I can’t do that

And when I’m crying on your couch I can’t pause it to ensure your feelings are heard

I search for comfort within your friends

Any drop of help to understand

Why you insist on saying the things you do to me

My days have blended into one

I have events that stand out

Conversations that stick in my memory

But my life is slow paced

But killing me at the same time

I have the desire to end it

Not in a violent way

I just find myself up at four in the morning

Wishing that when my eyes close they don’t reopen

Until the EMT’s force my eyelids open

I don’t like to admit this fact out loud

Typing it makes my eyes blurry and water

I’ll mention to my mom

That I think someday I will kill myself

I don’t think this, I’m honestly very sure of it

I don’t know what I’m doing anymore

I’ll switch my major every 3 months

In order to feel the rush of excitement that I am constantly searching for

Whether it's in the beds of men who don’t know my middle name

Or at the bottom of a bottle I just purchased 12 hours before

Sex is nothing to me

My body is useless

I will strip myself down and feel nothing

Enter my body and you will add value to zero

I crave the rush

I yearn for when my heart stop beating

For the final rush of paranoia to my amygdala

I find myself staring into my various mirrors often

I’ll change daily

My face never looks the same

I don’t know how to describe myself

I search for the definition of me in various others

There is something wrong with me

And I need you to tell me what it is

I am a loser

My poetry is repetitive

I’ll search for validation within the various people I share it with

It’s done more harm than good

I am vulnerable within these words and it is painful

You all see me in ways I cannot possible see myself

I read back my previous declarations and I feel nothing 

“All of my old suicide notes read back as poetry”

And it’s now the other way around

My mom worries for me and I sense it every time she knocks on my door

Reminding me that she made dinner and it’s on top of the stove

I’ll tell her to her face that I think I will die alone

I cannot accept that there is someone out there

Who deserves to look me in the face

And convince me that they might possibly love me

I put no effort into my existence

I live to live

It’s killing me in the process

Please stop worrying about me

Everything always works out for me

I don’t know what’s wrong with me

This thought will circulate my consciousness until the day it seizes

All of my friends insist nothing is wrong

And I am simply the way I am

And that they love me no matter what

I know I am loved by everyone I call my friend

But there is something missing and it is killing me

I have spent more hours than I can recall in various beds

Of various men

With the occasional repeat

Who will never love me

This simple statement is killing me

I have spent my entire life loving

Whether it’s the boy

who gave me his grandmother's ring under my desk in first grade

Or when I was in the middle of a bench seat 

with a bouquet of lilies on the floorboard

Possibly the time I sat on the bathroom floor

With a man who held my hand when I was convinced I was dying

No matter how differing the situations I’ve been placed in are

There's always the same ending

Moving away

Not in the right mindset

Prison

My love I share and express so loudly will never been shared in return

Or at least that’s what I tell myself when I stay up too late