BABYDICHTER

poet

[babydichter]

I pretend that I gave you all of your stuff back,

but one of your t-shirts is still hidden in the corner of my room.

I would be lying if I said

that it doesn’t make me sick to my stomach

every time that I look at it.

It doesn’t smell like you anymore.

I accidentally washed it with my own clothes last month.

Part of me wishes that it still did

and part of me thanks God that it doesn’t.

I wish there was a way for you to come back to me.

[babydichter]

I know of no pain stronger than the pain of being in love and not being able to do anything about it.

[babydichter]

The way you are fearless strikes fear into me.

I am terrified of disappointing you,

of losing you,

so how do you feel about me?

If you are my vice,

I would forfeit all of my virtues

for you and you alone.

If it is this love that kills me,

I will die with a grin,

flowers still in hand for you.

[babydichter]

What an affliction it is,

this slow fading distance between us.

If only miles could express how much I love you.

I would fly across the universe

one hundred times and more.

It would never be enough.

You are love,

the only love that I care to know.

I am so painstakingly yours,

until the world caves in on itself

and even after that too.

I am yours. I am yours.

No matter what. Forever.

[babydichter]

I am taunted by the way you touched me

before you said goodbye.

I didn't know that your goodbye meant indefinitely this time.

You left without warning.

Your handprints are still all over my body.

It has been months now.

I can still feel you there.

I wish I knew.

I wish I knew...

that my lips, my palms, my fingertips,

would all ache for your skin

and the warmth that radiated off of it.

My bed is freezing cold,

as is the couch,

the floor;

you've been everywhere.

Everywhere.

I can feel you all around.

I swear that I see you on every street corner.

I swear that I see you outside of every window.

It has been months now.

I know you're not there,

but every bone in my body

wishes that you were.

[babydichter]

I have said so many beautiful things

and all of them have been in the name of you.

[babydichter]

You say that you understand,

that you feel my pain,

that it hurts you too

and that you're so, so sorry,

but you don't wake up sobbing,

begging for release,

stumbling to the bathroom,

praying that you can vomit out the pain.

You don't sit in the car,

windows up and full of rage,

screaming at God for something that wasn't his doing,

but yours...

asking Him if I take my life will he still let me into heaven?

You don't feel my pain,

how could you ever?

[babydichter]

self harm

I have always been under the impression

that if I wore my pain on my exterior,

people would be gentler.

[babydichter]

I was the one who lit you up,

set you on fire,

got lost in your embers,

like a moth to light.

Confess to me

the darkest parts of you,

the hidden corners of your past

and notice how my love for you still

only grows with every word,

every minute.

Tell me your truths,

even the ones too heavy to hear

and watch as I open up my ears for you.

[babydichter]

The Arsonist

I have given everything that I have,

even the skin on my back

and still I must give more.

I know that you would never ask,

but you know my heart well enough

to play with fire in confidence

that I will be the one to burn.

[babydichter]

I don’t write love poems,

but I would twist you into words and stanzas if I thought that it could make a good rhyme.

I would rearrange the stories in your soul,

trace your body onto paper

until I found the words.

[babydichter]

You are the outline of my silhouette.

You are the entirety of my bones, my being.

You could never lose me,

never part from me,

for you are built into my soul

and if the day ever came

that I had to leave this earth,

I do not want to be buried without your hand in mine.

[babydichter]

A Writer’s Suicide

My sheets,

they smell like you,

so I set them on fire.

The air reeks of lies

and worthless desires.

I burn every page,

every love poem.

Now, my passions,

they have died.

A writer’s suicide.

I don’t want love songs.

I want warning drums and sirens.

I want red flags that don't look pink.

I realize now,

that love is not an endurance test

of how long you can swim through a hurricane.

Get out at the first sight of rain.

[babydichter]

Prayer

Lord, I pray,

don't let me feel this,

if it isn’t going to last.

Don’t make me fall for it,

don't make me believe in love,

if I have to lose it all again.

Please,

don’t take away my abilities

to trust,

to love.

There is a sinking pit in my stomach

that tells me that I am a fool,

that tells me that

none of this was ever real.

I don’t want to find out like this.

Lord,

if he hurts me,

I don’t think I could do it anymore.

I don’t think I could keep going on like this.

Lord, I beg.

[babydichter]

Love Contradictions

All that I have ever known

is mixed perceptions of love.

I will never understand

how you can love me

and hurt me

all at the same time.

I will never understand

how you can do the things that you do to me,

but still pull me closer at night,

still vomit out how much you love me,

as if you can’t hold it in anymore.

How can you love me,

but want them too?

How can you love me,

when I see your snake tongue

every time you speak to me with false honesties?

If this isn’t love,

then I have never seen it before.

[babydichter]

The night comes too soon,

half past two in the morning,

begging you not to leave.

Soft kisses,

turning harder as the seconds come,

as desire grows stronger.

Holding my hand,

gripping the bed sheets,

finding any way to get closer,

to feel you even more.

Heaven to me,

is being tangled in you,

encompassed by your warmth

as we drift to sleep.

[babydichter]

In this coffee shop alone,

inching towards noon,

I search for the muse in which I once knew.