#aaron heaton

[aaronheatonwords]

Untitled

I don't think she's a bad person but

I don't think she knows how to be a good one.

[aaronheatonwords]

I Will Be Happy

My knuckles are smooth and fresh again;

my bones hidden by layers of

healthy fat and plump skin,

no longer dried hide stretched

for use to survive,

but a modern, living citizen.

And yet, it’s missed.

The bloody knuckles are in my memory.

The painful squeak of swollen joints

was calming, somehow,

And the sharp edges of bone

jutting out into the world bestowed

a kind of confidence

That doesn’t make sense to describe.

I was a skeleton, leaking its last millilitres

of blood.

A canvas pulled taut over an easel,

paintless.

My poems are forced words

just like the hurt

I try to feel.

The words slip away into

a place that isn’t,

calling me

to feel, to write, to live.

But happiness is too real

Too present

Too heavy

To go back to how it was.

Drowning the happiness in drink

is a headache.

And to ignore my friends feels

a complete waste.

A poor employee brings a

shame to myself.

Anger hurts the soul more

than you.

And ignoring sleep only seems

to kill tomorrow.

So I will be happy,

against my better judgement.

[aaronheatonwords]

Flowers

Dead flowers are just as beautiful

As the living;

To see how the wilt and decay courses

through the petals

tells as much as how the sun

feeds the flower.

There is no shame in a wilting plant

except for what

you’ve been told to be ashamed of.

Like a flower preserved,

blooming healthily,

one falling down

is a biologically woven story.

Death is not the end.

[aaronheatonwords]

Adult Children of Alcoholics

Look at me, what a catch:

A quivering ball of fat suffering from depression,

dragging my feet from day to day hoping

that maybe someone

will be the one to finally save me.

My emotions are suppressed and my

need for constant attention is in overdrive.

I’ll ignore you until I feel desperate,

And then I won’t ever stop.

And god help you if you show

me affection first.

Can’t talk, can’t write, can’t create.

A waterfall of words drowning themselves

in a basin of stupidity, too damn

mushy and real to leave on the page.

Grab the soggy paper and tear it up

like it deserves

Anxious and insecure and unsure

and guilty and controlling and

always too responsible

too harsh

too critical

too unloving

to be loved

Antisocial? Borderline?

Or just insane?

It’s hard to tell when your own brain

is fighting against its judgement.

Locked in with another person

(or are they locked in

with me?)

I grab a bottle and get to work

(booze, cough syrup, whatever’s in reach)

on removing myself from me.

A body without a mind or a mind

so out of it’s mind that it leaves

the body to mind itself,

and in most ways the body doesn’t mind.

Hundreds of long conversations

that

just beat around the bush

ramblings and false truths falling

out

of two mouths that are just struggling

to

make a connection with someone

Paranoia and suicidal thoughts;

Are they fucking right now?

Is he bigger than me?

What did I do to deserve this?

But the biggest thing?

I’m just not really enjoying myself.

If only it could be not so

God damn messy.

[aaronheatonwords]

Date Night

Minutes tick to hours.

“Are you okay?”

Water is fine, I say.

I watch the walls intently

and my phone absently.

If you never look at the time,

it doesn’t pass,

right?

What did people do before

Reddit, or Instagram?

Aside from engage with

other humans.

“Are you okay?”

Another pint, I say.

How long has that chip in the paint

been there?

How do I have to angle

just right

to see the door in the mirror?

How many dollars am I wasting

just by being here?

I’d like to order please,

with a smile,

as if I’m not choking back.

I’d like…

…

The…

…

“Sweet potato fries?”

Yes please,

with a laugh

as it’s written down.

As if my absent mind can be blamed

on anything other than this.

I get them in a container.

I’m too sick to finish.

[aaronheatonwords]

(Obligatory)

“It's okay, you're just upset on the inside.”

Dad's wisdom.

He says it as if it's any different than being upset on the outside,

but he means well, and he loves me (obligatory).

But something about the lack of beauty in those words is beautiful;

A recognition of pain after a childhood of facades and miscommunication

(or communication a little too direct to know affection),

the feeling that maybe he's known this feeling:

the hurt of insecurity and loss and the pure terror

of never being quite enough

and compensating by being too damn much

for anyone.

But then he rewinds the movie, prodding me with his eyes

still glued to the screen-

“Look at the rack on that broad!”

Her body obscured by steam

and the million miles between her and him

and me and Her

and him and I

And I realize I've been fooled again.

[aaronheatonwords]

Promise Me

Promise me this:

If I ever stop being special,

please leave me

If my company becomes

Comfort

or dissatisfactory,

please leave me.

When my jokes fall flat

and my smile no longer

warms you,

please leave me

When you know

you’ve already moved on,

Please leave me.

I would rather be thrown aside

selfishly,

But knowingly.

I’d rather the truth,

no matter the pain.

To keep me locked up

and to feed off of

my support,

to use my kindness as fuel

to escape me

is more painful than the truth.

Look in your heart.

Ask yourself the questions

you don’t want to ask.

Promise me this:

If you’ve ever loved me,

please leave me.

[aaronheatonwords]

Work

Pen-stealing inconsiderate fucks

Rifling through what’s mine

Only one day absent

Taskbar moved, chair tilted back

Do you see your name on here?

Outward politeness begets ignorance

Old white women who think

“Please” and “excuse me”

Are catch-alls for condescension

Manager in title only sits behind a desk

Away from his office

The 12x8 room where responsibility

Impatiently taps its foot

Waiting behind a two year old mantle

To finally be filled

And the countless other air-brained bees

Buzzing along to a dance

From a different hive

Teetering

Asking where each foot should be planted

Before putting them down