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honestly I never expected you to become something special but you did and I tried to hold it all inside, use my teeth as a barrier to hold the way I felt about you behind my tongue, but I let it spill and drip around our feet like honey, like those whiskey shots staining our lips and burning the corners of my mouth into a smile. you didn’t feel the same but part of me thought you were halving your words in half saving the bad bits for me keeping the good bits for you. you were drunk and I was almost drunk and when someone asked you what exactly it is you that you like about me you breathed out words that sounded so effortless I wondered if your barrier forgot how to do its job “because she’s wonderful,” you said. you waited a moment before continuing. like you realized you said it out loud. “because she just completely gets it. how could you not like her?” there wasn’t much to say and I wondered in that moment if you were answering the question or talking to yourself. I think I’ll always hope it was the second one even though I told you my feeling were gone I think I'll always hope you’d met me first I think I'll always be spilling myself around you

“spilling part 1″

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blakelsey

I fumble through dry pages that feel like skeleton bones. Skeleton bones they are: touched others before touching me. Dried to a crisp because they circled the earth before finding me. Streets, and stoplights, and cars honking at the girl who does not wait for anyone. I cross the street, gliding between the push and pull of Giovanni’s room and the apartment building. Buzzers sound, doors slam, and keys click until we are all back in the living, basking in the city lights that flow through the windows that show and tell secrets. And there the three of us are: passing it along. Our vision and thoughts warp together, as if we are peeking through an ethereal lens. We are walking the streets of Philadelphia, laughter shaking our fragile frames. There is a woman across the street, and I cannot see her face but her feet look like deer hooves. Her shoes look like they are squeezing her entire being into the front of the high-heels as she traipses over the pure lines painting the pavement. Laughter erupts from our beings: flawed focus and punctured perspective. We are walking miles back and forth: through the garden, through upscale restaurants and bars with high noses. With you beside me and him across from me, the keys begin to rattle, buzzers sound, doors click and I find my way back to the marshmallow after the light shapes the room.

12th and Pine

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I have come here with intentions of stomping every part of myself into the concrete I call home. Sweat, tears, fury, exasperating joy packed into the bricks that I could walk my way to blindfolded. There is a part of my heart that is breaking, as I call this last day, first day: beginning is to end as heart is to here; but I press forward, to see everything beyond these four walls that hold the secrets we've all learned.

now the beginning and the end are intertwined

#blakelseywrites #blakelsey #nonfiction #college #last semester #bittersweet #memories

I look for you in every Black Honda Fit. Nervous you will show up on these streets I have declared mine. Nervous because I do not want you here. You have become a game of Jacks in my adult life. Except I want out. I have tossed you into the air with no intention of picking you back up. I will no longer fall, trip, or find myself in the jagged pieces I so powerfully left behind.

“You Are Allowed to Outgrow People”

A poem about a boy I maybe wished was more during the summer. I stopped wishing for that and started wishing to just be a friend. I have tried too much, we all have tried. This is moving on.

#poem #friend poem #blakelseywrites #free verse #poetry

I think that I convinced myself that I could breathe through you blowing your cigarette smoke in my direction. It became a game for me, to see how long I could close my lungs off around you. The girl who had never touched a cigarette in her life started holding yours. Stealing puffs in and stealing herself. I thought that holding this accessory in my hand might have convinced you that I was bad-ass or mysterious, but it turns out there is nothing bad-ass about breaking our trust with the air and the minute you broke the trust with me was the minute I realized that. So I will no longer be the dog-ears to the book you cannot finish. You narcissistic asshole. This is what goodbye looks like, and you do not deserve anything more than to hear from someone else whispering that I am gone.

“and I fled before my lungs filled with you”

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blakelsey

And in a flashing, heart throbbing second, he was gone. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for him to leave but in the technicality of things, I couldn’t be that sad because I didn’t know him as well as the goons who had known him for so long. They actually were allowed to pass him tears in their hands. It happened so quickly. It was like when the first torrential storm comes. The one that is still a spring monster but leaning on summer’s shoulder. When the sky pours for hours and washes out everything in its wake, and when it's finally over, the dry air is whispering in circles trying to figure out what happened. At that exact point, everything had dripped dry and it was all left gasping for air. I’d like to say that, yes, that’s how things were but I think there may have been a significance in our lungs running out. He was the type of person who smoked so many cigarettes he sometimes made you question oxygen, breaking your trust with it. Nobody knew if he’d return and I’m not even sure if he knew. I think we all wanted the satisfaction of him just saying he would, even if it turned out to be a lie. This place, it was one stop on his entire existence and he didn’t owe a single thing to this small town. Maybe a few thanks and ownership of beautiful memories, but a lot of the memories were not so beautiful. I didn’t realize he would leave so fast and it was all a bit jarring, to know someone can do that. I respected him, for throwing all of his shit in trash bags and just driving away, never looking back. People say leaving is so hard until you actually do it, but he didn’t seem to have that problem. There was this fire to him that slowly started going out when he was here and hitting the gas pedal sparked it. We all saw flames when he drove away. I knew it was a good thing. This place, filled with too many bars and lots of other things weren’t good for anyone with time and I think he realized that. This town holds a lot of bricks and there are so many secrets packed into them that tell me they’ve seen this before, but my god it has to be rare. Too many people here are stuck and they can’t get out and if anyone should have left, it was him because he has so much left ahead of him. I think one day, he’ll eventually stop coughing up pieces of this place into his hands and when he does, I think it’ll be the best thing that happens. At least I hope, I really do.

red lights always switch back to green and that is when you should escape

(via blakelsey)

#writing #nonfiction #leaving #blakelsey #blakelseywrites

blakelsey

it’s been some time since i have forgotten where my feet are and how i should use them. i blame you. i know that it probably isn’t fair to do so, but sometimes you look me in the eye and i feel like i’ve been dropped in the middle of a maze. i used to know how to breathe easy, but the smoke from your excessive amounts of cigarettes has broken my trust with the air. i am trying to bleach my lungs white and build ground beneath my feet, but like I said, i’m in a maze, and i don’t think there’s a way out.

“the wooden beams of my mind”

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blakelsey

I realized that you were never interested and that I needed to stop trying for you when I saw that your smiles were bigger for her when you gave her your hello’s.

hello’s are more than you think

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blakelsey

my voice echoed in pilot mountain - i remember the summer of 1998, when phones and computers rarely existed. i rode my bike down the massive hill that dropped off of sunset drive. i thought i could fly. i spent that entire summer living in north carolina. i gathered scabs and sidewalk chalk like it was my profession and when the day was old my aunt would yell, “come set the table!” i canned beets on my aunts drive up. my fingers were prunes, dripping purple as the half eaten watermelon and saltshaker took ownership of the left corner.

- Kelsey Stoneberger

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#pilot mountain #north carolina #summer memories #poetry #poem #free verse #kelsey stoneberger #blakelsey #blakelseywrites

blakelsey

Once upon a time, we used to be fire. Enflamed at the thought of the other. But we succumbed to the power of the sun, and it sucked the energy right out of our skin. I remember the day the rain hit you, and my god, it hit you hard. I woke to the sound of thunder and you were gone, and there wasn’t even a trail of smoke left for me to find you. I used to know fire like the back of my hand, and your eyes used to make me burn, but now I forget what flames feel like.

I flinch every time that my phone buzzes. I am angry that I flinch, because I hope it's you.

- Buzzing. (C) Kelsey Stoneberger

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blakelsey

Someone told me once that I can most certainly be fierce and alone, at the same time. I would like to say that I have always known that, but truth is I really haven’t. Seven hours straight is a lot of time to spend with someone that I had only just met. One week straight feels like an eternity when I never really heard from them again. It’s 10:30 pm and I took a drive. I ended up at Waffle House and the sweater I’m wearing smells like you. The coffee tastes like the second date that we never had. I’m mad at myself for hoping that you will walk through the door. I decided earlier that I have had enough of the one-sided interest, because God knows that I have put up with that too many times before. The server knows to leave me be and let me write, occasionally filling my coffee cup. Ironic how that sort of sounds like you.

This work by Kelsey Stoneberger is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License. Based on a work at blakelsey.tumblr.com. No one has permission to use my work as spoken word or for profit.

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blakelsey

And that night, was one for the books. A cacophony of things I had never heard, seen, or felt. And you, you became a tornado. Violently showing up, and leaving before I had the time to gather my thoughts.

- Early evening thoughts #3

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blakelsey

You are water. And I, electricity. Torture between the two, and we were never meant to mix.

- This Electricity is Torturous.

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