indigo

I pour all my thoughts into this poetry soup

Hoping that it will explain the way I am.

But so far all it's done is make me wonder

If I'm okay.

I'm so careful with my words,

You'd think I had something important to say

And maybe I do.

I did not hate myself when I was 12.

Not in the way I thought I did.

I really hated her.

I hated how she curved

How her hair rolled down her back

How her sport required her to show so much of herself.

I did not hate myself when I was 12.

Not in the way I thought I did.

Because now I love them.

I love the way they talk too fast

How they often get called "ma'am I mean sir I mean"

How they love the most random things.

I did not hate myself when I was 12.

I'm hiding in the bathroom

And I'm not even at a party.

I am in my own house

Surrounded by my own things

And somehow it feels too much.

My girlfriend is here

And I love her. I really do.

But I'm surrounded by my own things

And this is all too much.

I am hiding in the bathroom

You, my dear, are the sun.

You fill each room with a warmth

That is barely comprehendible.

Your laugh makes the caterpillars turn into butterflies

In spring's soft glow.

When your arms surround me

Questions are burning

Unasked and unanswered.

Awaiting confirmation that maybe

I am unlike the others.

~~~~~~~~~~

When the human conscience becomes aware of itself

It wants to die.

It does not know if death is the end

And it hopes that the suffering will be less

Written November 27, Year 1 of the poetry box

Have you ever felt your heartbeat drumming along

Creating its own kind of fucked up song

The rat and the wing became one in the night, a pigeon was born and I'm feeling alright.

My black nail polish chipped when I opened the box, I hope it was worth it for all that I lost.

She was more than a lover could ever become

And in one paragraph, she loved me none.

You smell good in a way I can't describe

Your beauty stuns poets, your laugh distracts scribes.

I wish I could write with more than one hand

I'd be ambidextrous, a one-woman writing band.

I don't know what to write but I've written so much

My hand is cramping up.

I don't know why,

But I hate myself.

I thought I was past

All these feelings

When I got older.

I don't know why,

But I hate myself.

I thought I'd stop,

Because I'm in love,

I don't know how to tell you this-

I don't know how to tell you anything.

I know I'm confrontational

But there are prices I'm not willing to pay.

The November air changes all of us,

But she changed you too fast, too soon.

The wind is shifting me too

And soon I'll have to leave to find food.

Not that you cared, you had all you needed.

I hoped I'd left more of a mark.

But your pen and your paper don't know my name.

It's too quiet here.

My ears are ringing,

Trying to pretend I'm alright.

The silence rips at my skin

Until all that's left are thoughts.

They don't like it here.

The words try to escape

But they won't come out.

They won't leave their comfort,

They won't leave my mouth.

I sit alone,

Waiting for my ears to be quiet

And for my skin to be patched up again

And for the words that have tortured me

I wish they understood me

But they don't speak in metaphors.

Their means of communication

Is what I have made my art form.

To them I am not a museum of things I've loved

But a girl who cries too easily or not at all.

I won't be seen as a tree growing branches toward the sun

Written October 17, Year 1 of the poetry box

This was the day

I knew the muses gave up on me.

No witty words

Or inspiring song

Passed through my lips.

The first to go

Was Calliope.

She led the group away

To tell stories for those who listen.

Second, there was Clio.

She blew away

Like dust on an old scroll-

I can't remember how to read it.

Lovely Erato was the third to leave.

She left me bleeding

From her thorns.

No more could I deserve

Now that she is gone.

Euterpe flew toward pleasure,

Far away from me.

I miss her soft songs

Sending me sweetly off to sleep.

Melpomene, oh Melpomene!

She left me in her wake.

She carved out my heart

And for death left me to wait.

I prayed to Polyhymnia,

Surely she would stay.

But she told me I was too far gone

And went on her peaceful way.

Terpsichore dance stuff without a word,

I could not even dream

Of keeping her.

Her lyre and song left me too,

And now my life is out of tune.

Thalia laughed as I begged her

"Don't go!"

She donned her gleaming ivy crown,

Her mask she'd soon wear too,

And giggled away

Leaving not even a trace.

Urania was the last to go

She'd seen it in the stars.

But even she had to depart

Lines blur as I look around

At this half empty, half full bedroom.

That little girl grew so much

But now that's just shit in my room.

Books I never really planned to read

Watch over my sleeping body,

Scarred and scared.

Posters from when I was 13

Fall halfway off the wall

Knowing that once they're gone

So there's this girl

And she's the best one I've ever met.

People say I shouldn't

Love her the way I do,

But I still do.

When she talks,

The whole world lights up

And I feel okay.

When she holds me,

I think that the world

Might always be good.

When I kiss her

I feel like I can finally

Love myself, too.

She was my first love,

My first kiss,

Written October 23, Year 1 of the poetry box

The words I'm trying to utter

Are everywhere but on my tongue .

The tears I'm trying to cry

Are everywhere but my eyes.

The curses I'm trying to scream

You've managed to stun a poet.

Your playful eyes and witty mind

Are too much for my words to capture.

I've never felt happier

Leaving a person undescribed

Because you my dear, are everything.

You are brighter than the stars

And the wind is jealous of your laugh.

I hope you'll let me stay so that one day

I can verbalize your beauty,

Heart and mind,

In a way you understand,

I found biblical symbolism in the eighth grade-

That girl was my killer and my keeper.

There were many nights I did nothing but weep for her.

And when she left, I felt the fire creeping

Up my mangled figure.

I found biblical symbolism in the ninth grade

When I met her and realized

I didn't care about the fire.

The fear of God became my one actual fear

But she held me close, saying

"He can't hurt you, I'm right here."

I found biblical symbolism in the tenth grade

Burning myself to the ground

Because the world stopped doing that long ago.

I love you like a Sunday evening.

Finally, I'm at peace.

Though my week is open-ended

We love each other, at least.

I never want to leave your arms

Even when my own fall asleep.

That's one of your many charms,

The thought of you makes my heart leap.

When you lay beside me

Nothing can go wrong.

Together we are free, so free.