emotional

i need to be someone that changes something. anything.

[soldoutfunerals]

.

[soldoutfunerals]

i think maybe 

i just miss too many things too much

stuck and intoxicated

by people and things long 

dead

[passivevoices-blog]

30 day poetry challenge

spiritslyrics and i decided to make our own poetry challenge. make sure to tag your poems poetry for am so we can see them! 

write a poem about hellos

write a poem/letter to your future self

write a poem based of your favorite fairy tale

write a poem in the style of a dictionary entry

write a eulogy

write a metaphor about your favorite season

write a poem about something that makes you happy

write a poem describing a color, without using the name of that color in the poem

write an honest poem about yourself. don’t hold anything back.

write a poem about the moon without using the words: “bright” “shine” “dark” “crater” and “moon”

write a poem based off your favorite lyric

write a poem in the perspective of a stranger

write a response to a shakespeare sonnet

write a poem about a place you’d like to visit

write a poem in the point of view of a book

write a poem with a hidden meaning

write a poem about a natural disaster

write a poem that starts with one word and ends with the opposite (i.e. truth…lies, up…down)

write a poem based off a picture. link the picture

write two poems- both sides of a relationship

write advice you’d like to give people

write in the perspective of your favorite fictional character

write a list poem

write a twenty four word poem

write a poem based off of your favorite myth/mythology

write a poem about someone you wish you knew

write a poem entirely of dialogue

write a blackout poem

choose a word and write and acrostic poem about it

write a poem about goodbyes

[soldoutfunerals]

im just so tired of trying to force a relationship that i know will never even be close to functional i think we're just bad for each other and i know he's trying but that's never going to be enough. and maybe that's unfair of me but there's some things he's erased that i can't because that was literally /my entire adolescence/ and maybe it's unhealthy to hold onto all of this anger but i don't know what i should do with it instead and i still can't help but think it was something wrong with me or that i deserved all of it deep down very very deep down i don't get how he can walk away and i just can't

[soldoutfunerals]

“prototypical nonconformist”

gender is a box

given to us at birth

wrapped in blue or pink with a bow on top

where a color defines us and

purple’s not an accepted option

operating on a black and white basis

instead of a color spectrum

if i can’t see a difference between the pinks and the blues

maybe it’s not me so maybe it’s you

maybe i’m colorblind, or

maybe i never even tried at all

[soldoutfunerals]

5 minute magnet poem

[soldoutfunerals]

haunted

i feel like there might be a spirit in my body. not a bad kind, necessarily. not necessarily bad energy (at least not all the time). i don't remember when it got like this. i just know sometimes he takes my brain by the reigns and i'm caught in a cerebral civil war resulting in external insomnia.

[soldoutfunerals]

it is so beautifully exhausting to exist in such a way that the supernovas are jealous

when i caved into my own vitriolic silence innocuous to the world, unnoticed IT spread its lips into a tasty grin,fangsoutteethshowing knowing ITS next meal was soon looking at me across the room from him foreshadowing the worst to come for years i'd outrun yelling off nonsense i'd hoped they'd pick apart but all they picked and plucked apart were post-trauma stitches and when he caught me i allowed him rip and chew me to shreds am i just the appetizer or the main course? wonder what's for dessert while SHE cooks away for IT licking their lips silently,waiting

[soldoutfunerals]

it is both a blessing and a burden to feel so horribly deeply.

[soldoutfunerals]

“you’re scaring the guests”

you say and point out to me

but since when did the guests

care about me?

[soldoutfunerals]

red dress [nice life]

put me back into a box

a dress that wasn’t meant to be worn at all

maybe to a party or two but

you’ll spill your drink and

i’ll be lost in your closet

and

maybe you never wore me but 

you wore me out

waging war before we knew 

why and when but it tore us 

a chorus of remorse when

you were sure 

and i knew you were sure 

cos

you shook me to my core

picking out seeds

of deep-seated anxieties 

quickly spit em out after finding

you found a part of me you’d

founded you wouldn’t find

from the start

[yeah maybe once i was red

but now i rot and ruin

reeling against branches

that tell me to stay in place]

[soldoutfunerals]

#3

once she said in dead font typed black and red that she'd crucified herself with pushpins in her wrists placeholders in her bloodstream like she was trying to pin an invisible note to a corkboard already full and it wouldn't stick or stay she said she needed to feel something devoid of all peace sticking pins and needles into her bloodstream sewed herself back sowed like a seed into piles of dirt where she couldn't breathe a seed that was supposed to grow to flourish but couldn't cos it just wasn't fully nourished i didn't know what it meant when you wanted to feel but now im feeling like there's something i should be remembering put it on a corkboard casual as a check-off list i don't know what you wanted to feel i do too i hope i find it and i hope you do too

[soldoutfunerals]

i'm not sure it matters

the house that i went to once a week to see a half of me reflected back in a half cracked mirror had a doorbell that echoed through the frame that they called a home

a mock home where they faked families out into believing things could be fixed but that’s not how it is.

showing him (once a week) the things that make me me while he pretends to care doesn’t undo the nights i spent thinking death was better than being in my own home in my own shoes in my own skin because he ground my skin down to bone like the beef we ground for tacos for a “family dinner” when he forgot the spices when she stared and stood taking notes like i was the project she the undertaker and me her paycheck

so when that old house crumbles cracks apart at the foundation… when it finally decides to fall, what’ll become of me? and what about my family?

[soldoutfunerals]

a series of short poems made up entirely of first lines of songs (stolen words)

1.) i got sick of the silence, i got tired of the dark i hid myself from failure and fear these hands are broken and calloused but nobody seems to notice found some words of wisdom written in a bathroom stall: "hey holy ghost, why'd you leave me, where'd you go?" 2.) i watched you burn and i felt it here i come to you in the very clothes that i killed you into we could blame it on our hands it's all been said 3.) if they take my hand will it be to burn me or to say amen? it's time to grow up, there's things you can not erase we're no saviors if we can't save our brothers 4.) love grows in me like a tumor im takin over my body rush of the past, quietly crash until your breathing stops forever

[soldoutfunerals]

life will always be weird

i know i'm getting bad when i can't write i can't write and i can't draw or maybe i just don't want to i can't decide but everything is so dull and boring and just something to pass the time i don't even feel like there's a reason to get out of bed ever besides taking my medicine and watering my plant

[soldoutfunerals]

no closer to heaven

everywhere i go i leave a piece of me. statistically speaking, i've probably just lost double my body weight in dead skin cells loose hairs an eyelash misplaced but continued on a piece of me is physically missing but i continue on as if nothing happened. how messed up is that? how messed up is that? a girl that i hardly knew (but admired silently) killed herself years ago. 4 years? 5 years? she lived less than a mile from me and rode my bus. i still remember what her house looked like but i think her parents don't live there anymore (and neither do i). i don't know if we talked ever. she was older by a few years but i remember seeing her walk onto the bus every day earbuds in, something in her hazel eyes swishing around like a flawed solution of perhaps her inner peace vs. inner fight (or maybe it was just her beautiful blonde hair) earbuds in intently listening to what those singers had to say and i wonder what kind of music that'd be if she still was here today she shot herself on an october night close to halloween and the police officer that went to investigate the scene was the same police officer that taught the d.a.r.e. program at our school i sometimes wonder what it felt like if his blood ran cold when he stared at her if he recognized her if he would recognize me how messed up is that? when i reached her permanent age a few years later i became the honorary big-eyed blonde babyface middle-schooler riding bus number fourteen (for how old she was) stopping and dropping me off at brunswick and merrimac stuffed buds in my ears so i didn't have to hear what the world wanted i feel like i lost something the night my mom gently explained to me what had happened. i remember clutching my stuffed dog, tears blurring my vision, and choking out, sputtering, "why would she do that?" i don't know why she did. i don't think anyone besides her knows now. not even her parents. how messed up is that? the collective community lost a lot her parents lost a daughter a warm hug after a day at war no matter how cold the winter blazing inside her must have been they lost a part of them. a part of what made them who they were, their identity, their purpose gone with the pull of a trigger. i lost some of my love for the world. i didn't understand how it could just take someone like that. IT'S SO MESSED UP. gabby - you didn't know me. you saw me but didn't see me we prayed to the same god sat in the same seats and roamed the same single hall the day after you left everyone wore blue because it was your favorite color i didn't even know you but i still think of you i'm sorry you had to go and if there's a heaven that's where i'll picture you because if you couldn't obtain happiness here i hope to god you'll find it there.

[soldoutfunerals]

one day everyone who even knew you existed will die but you'll still exist just not in the same form like the air you once breathed and materials that make up your body continue to be useful to the universe so even if you don't consciously achieve your personal goals everything that holds you together will do some pretty nifty stuff