an unquiet mind

archived. messy writing from my teens to my early twenties, all lies here.

[delicatepoetry]

The distance between you and I was heavy. It was a weight of a world between us, a wreck waiting to happen. It was more than just a long car ride, a trip on a plane. It was silent pauses on the phone, it was text messages full of nothing but words replaced as action. A smiley face in place of a kiss, a heart in place of a hug. So many nights I’d stare at the phone wishing to see your eyes. Pillows took the form of you, blankets became arms, and your voice was the only lullaby I could fall asleep to. There was always empty space around me, a seat never taken, a spot never filled. A hand never held. One thing was constant, and that was your absence. But love overtook the longing. And the thought of you, the truth that we were under the same sun, the same sky, was enough. Your body, over there. Your heart, here. Always here.

[delicatepoetry]

one day i want to wake up without the weight of the world crushing me. i want the day to greet me with open arms, soft skies. i want to feel free, weightless. i want to feel like a soul that has purpose, not one that only carries pain.

[delicatepoetry]

I am a woman trapped with a little girl’s trauma. Her hands cling to mine, a tiny mirror of all that’s broken and bruised. She hides in every cracked corner, makes friends with the shadows and secrets that haunt me. She’s made of sorrow and small reminders. She lives in me. She’s forced a home out of my heart and collects every shattered piece, clings to every sharp edge. She’s stayed with me through my teens, never to leave throughout my twenties. She’s white noise gone dark, background music to every lost part. I try to rid her out of my bloodstream, cut and scrape her away. But she lingers like a silent scar of the past, always meant to be apart of me. These days I can’t even face her because when I look into her eyes, all I see are mine.

[delicatepoetry]

If I could tell her all the things she needs to hear, I’d start with how the stars sleep in her eyes. I’d tell her there’s a warmth in her belly that spills out when she laughs. I’d tell her she grows blossoms from bruises, that she mends herself when she breaks. I would tell her ink stained fingers mean so much more than bloody wrists, that crumpled pages carry more truth than a crumbled soul. I’d tell her to carry her bones with strength, they’re the only home she’ll ever keep. I’d whisper the winter out of her heart, clear the way for spring to start. I’d sing the sorrow out of her, drain the pain from her skin. I would remind her that the war in her head is only in one hue, she’s so much more than just blue. If I could tell her all she needs to know, I’d have her face the mirror, show her all she needs is here.

[delicatepoetry]

in october i fall in love with everything. the way the sun sets, the orange and pink bleeding into one against the clouds. the way the air turns crisp, how it calms the warmth in california. the world bursts into crimson and gold, everything rusted and rotted seems painted with poetry. the leaves at my feet, the smell of cinnamon tea. the way books bring more comfort when paired with a blanket. journals fill up faster, candlelight feels like warmth wrapped around you, ink stained fingers get lost in sweaters. chilly mornings when one blanket isn’t enough, rain racing down windows, dew settled on grass. night skies mixed with stars and gloom. everything. i’m falling in love.

[delicatepoetry]

I’ve lost my words these days. They’re somewhere stuck in my soul, sleeping away. I hope I’ll be able to bleed them out soon, and let the red ink fill the pages. Let the truth be spilled, and be turned into poetry, into purpose. Until then I will stare at blank space, let my emotions take me to wherever they hide. We’ll find them soon and come alive.

// at a loss for words

[delicatepoetry]

harvest hearts: the leaves fall to our feet, the world drops dead, and we come alive.

[delicatepoetry]

My face has faded from your eyes, my name no longer sits at the back of your throat. Our stories have become memories left to be forgotten. I can’t live with it. Your touch still haunts this skin like a home, still sends shivers down my spine like a ghost. Your words sleep in my ears, your echo of a voice lulls me to tears. I feel you living in me, walking from heart to head. You’ve left your mark on me, planted your seeds and now they’re blooming into bruises. Darling, loving you was heaven. Leaving you was hell. We were once lovers with hope in our hands, now we are strangers with nothing to tell.

[delicatepoetry]

I use to have a home in your heart, now the only place I have is in your past.

[delicatepoetry]

There are days I cannot be strong. Nights I rather drown in tear stained sheets than wade in the ruin. Sometimes my soul is tired of trying. Sometimes my mind must be messy within itself. I cannot force myself to carry the weight of wreckage when my heart is weak. There are moments it must be laid to rest, that I must be put in place. And that does not mean I am giving up, it does not mean I surrender to the madness. It simply shows I’ve been fighting so hard I need to settle into the chaos. Sometimes I need to sleep with my sorrow, let it surround me until tomorrow.

[delicatepoetry]

I tasted forever on your tongue, a lie wrapped in lust. A promise never intended to be kept. It faded into a facade, hid behind the hurt I let sit in my throat. You tied pretty pledges on my wrists, wrote your vows on my skin. You let the hope sink in. Let the false future we made run through my thoughts. My heart began to beat for you, drowned in the noise was the breaking. You held me with careless hands, covered your deceit in gold. Our love was a myth to you. A chapter in a book of fiction. A run on sentence begging to end. To you, I was a face you’d forget, a name left in bed. To you, a story swallowed down. A moment meant for a memory. An ending with open arms. To you, I was borrowed time.

[delicatepoetry]

I can’t keep digging myself out of this grave each morning. The weight of misery mounted on my chest is too much. This bag of bones, this mess of mind and hair, this ink stained flesh; all too heavy to hold. The hope is slipping out of my fingers, threads cling to broken nails, get caught on sharp edges. Seams stitched just to come apart again, scars heal only to be reopened. I am a melted and mended child. A tattered and torn up soul. I can’t continue to drag my feet across this earth, it hands me nothing but broken promises. I’m sick of walking on shattered wishes. I am a corpse gone cold, lying in a bed made for giving up. I heal only to hurt, love only to lose, live only to survive. Let me lay here, let me forget to come back to life.

[delicatepoetry]

chaos is caged in my chest. misery runs through veins, guilt is growing in my lungs. there’s traces of ruin tangled in my hair, and wreckage wrapped around my wrists. i let the sorrows seep into my skin. crimson red painted on arms, blue running from heart to head. i bury myself into bruises, and count cuts like stars. a rattled soul, a walking worry scrambling to carry the weight of a world. i dream in dread, speak in heartbreak. my existence is a fog, a memory burning just to get lost in the smoke. there is no difference between night and day, both are stuck on midnight. i’m waiting for a sun rise. but hope has fallen from shaky hands, got trapped in truth. i won’t see the sun when i’m stuck in a sky without a moon.

[delicatepoetry]

Shaky hands, a dew settled on my palms. Holding you felt like my wrists were broken, I’d never be strong enough to keep you from collapsing. And maybe bones can’t be a shelter that protects us from what we can’t see, but it can be a comfort. And maybe my fingers twitch and tremble, and maybe my nails can’t dig any deeper, and maybe my body goes numb, and maybe my hold falls soft; but my soul will settle into yours. My breathing will become a song to soothe you sleepy. Darling, I will tie your heart on my sleeve, wear it as my own. Protect it like a home. You can fade into me, I will help you rise against the night. You can sink your secrets into my skin, let your mind be free again. I will carry all the chaos I can, in my arms you will never slip. With my love, you will never starve.

[delicatepoetry]

you give me your body willingly, but i want more than just the shell of you. you hide behind walls you’ve built in your bones. you’ve settled your secrets into the cracks, you built a bridge just to burn it down. you only let love in halfway, keep a safe distance between the skin and soul. you’ve laid chest to chest, but never had your heart face another. don’t you crave to spill your sorrow? you are more than a carcass gone cold, more than silence in sheets. you say you are mine but there’s an absence in your mind. you are half human, a heartbreak waiting to happen. i stand staring through the windows of your temple, praying you’ll let me in. because god knows, there’s more to love within.

[delicatepoetry]

You let sorry sleep in your throat, made it a permanent bed. You’ll cough it up at any chance, you think everything is your fault. You carry a chaos inside your chest, it bangs and scratches at your bones. One day it’ll overflow. Your flesh is not paper, you are not a canvas to a razor. The scars will only be souvenirs of broken moments. You will say they’re stories, but you know they feel more like landmarks of how you failed. Your mind is messy, your heart is aching. Your skin crawls at the thought of it all. You shove the sadness deep into your pit, let it rot and sit. It boils over, only builds to burn you. You’ve become a ghost of a girl, a single haunt to an abandoned home. Who you are, and who you were, are two strangers fighting to open the front door. You are at a constant war. You are too young to be this blue, too quiet for such noise in your head. You were not born to wish to be dead. You’ve got a softness inside you that melts and bends. You speak in sighs, talk with your eyes. There’s a garden of guilt growing in your lungs, the days go down and it’s only getting harder to breathe. It’s all too much for your simple soul, too complicated to control. You bear a weight of a world that only wishes to ruin you. Six feet under soil without a shovel, a walking wreckage trying to grow from rotting roots. You were meant to flourish, meant to bloom into something sun kissed, but warmth hasn’t touched your body in ages. Little girl, set fire to the dark, burn the bridges it crosses to your heart. Turn the rust to gold, bring the death to destruction. Dig the doom out of your hair, let misery melt by the moon. You are an angel with her halo hung low, a shadow of a girl with broken wings. But please, please stay for life and what it brings. You have worth inside you, a purpose pumping through pulse. Hold onto the hope you carry in your palms. Swing from the stars, girl, you are their child. Made from the dust of the dying, you were always meant to shine, always meant to find the light. But sometimes we must collapse before we turn bright.

[delicatepoetry]

We are quiet lovers, free in the streets. We hold hands under tables, and make love in the light. We carry each other’s secrets along with the weight of a world. We hang onto hope, dangle on dreams, we sleep in the clouds and string together our seams. We fight for the good, bury the bad and fix the broken. We’ve learned to strip the lies, fish out the sadness in our eyes. My love, with you I have grown. With you, I found a home. In your arms we formed a shelter, in my limbs I tangle you before you tear. Every word I kept locked in my throat, you’ve heard, you’ve read. Every moment I dread and fear, you make sure to be here. You fall, I bruise. I cut, you bleed. We are a single soul split in two.