Like a Bomb in a Birdcage @withmyheartticking - Tumblr Blog

Stay. Your tomorrow’s will not always be joyful and the past will linger in every scar and every makeup stained tear, but the dark does not feel so hazy and the pain will not be a knife’s edge and your tomorrow’s will be brand new. Stay. Because there will be words on pages and words from mouths and you will open up like a perennial after the longest, harshest night; the sunlight will greet you and every sunrise will create you. Stay. The world will need your smile, your laughter, your courage and your combination of passions because there is only one of you and the one of you will change this world even if you never believe that truth. Stay. If not for you now, then for you years from now who will press their eyes tight and cry hands folded in together thanking you for being strong thanking you for every day since thanking you for living. Stay.

To the little girl I once was, and for everything she needed to hear

#wspd2015 #wspd15 #poetry #poem #stay

If I close my eyes and listen close I can hear the sound of cars on the highway racing to and from their hopes and dreams that could be the rushing ocean waves if I wish hard enough. I can hear the doors of the neighbours houses opening and closing against the wooden doorframes knocking in succession to bring their owners home. A seagull calls as it soars through blue skies bringing salt into the spaces of my teeth and the sparrows in a tree two houses down the block sing each other a song of greeting. I can hear the wind as it brushes through the leaves of these aging trees a forest if I wish to escape and the hum of a plane up miles high carries people to somewhere new. If I close my eyes and listen close the song that consistently plays is ever changing and if my fingers have forgotten how to move then this is the music that I will have to live.

A Practice in the Present

#poetry #poem #a practice in the present #well it has been a goddamn century

I toe the line between yes and no on several occasions in every day with you. Between how much is too much and how little is too little and do we stand on your page or mine? And when will they stop listening begging me to pick a side and figure out how I really feel about you? Do I pick the side where you win and I die or where you die and I win?

Middle Ground

#poem #poetry

I blinked and I was back, all the history drawn within me, years of pain and triumph created only in my memory and a moment in time. Before the wings can spread I am grounded again.

#poem #poetry

"A silver tipped bird with wings made for wishes, my feet swinging up and around even Zeus's proudest clouds. This is where the earth is round and sunrises remain untouched and unmarred, where dreams were meant to come true and we were meant to find them. In pockets of strangers and in unfamiliar streets. In finding the future upon touching the past."

#poem #poetry

The Brain. Smart and analytical - the arms and legs of a caterpillar - yells for the future knows the unknown and wants to dive in. The Brain welcomes the challenge anticipates that fear understands that wings will follow and jumps before it can see the ground. But the Heart. The Heart feels the flutter in its cage whispers I’m not ready yet.

#poetry #poem

Nothing is solid nothing is permanent where once I found the words now I find empty space or an indecipherable mess. I used to mould moments into minutes now I dig through dirt only for my nails to be covered. Where did it go wrong? When did the bleeding of my hands stop dripping onto paper? When did the ink forget to spill my secrets? how long have I been pretending? Nothing is solid nothing is permanent if I don't write it down none of this is real

#a great big mess that is me trying but failing #poetry #poem

the sun has not quite risen into morning yet the moon is low and the darkness wanes and I, too, am in between - the sheets of your bed, my face in your hands and my red hot anger as we fight - the knots in my stomach over cancelled dinner and the night I said I could fall in love with you - between the need to break things before they fall and the thick weight of guilt on my lungs.

5am

#poem #poetry #spilled ink

I have so many words and they are too much but not enough. Every breath is like razor-blades filling up my lungs and racing to my heart. I don’t know how to hold fragile things, and I will drop them every time. You weren’t supposed to fight and I’ll claw my nails in for that. I don’t know how to stop the salt water on my nose but I have no right to cry after what I’ve done. Every beginning has an end and I will destroy it every time.

#poem #poetry #hurt

Your hands must be stained blue and red from the ink and the years you spent holding others hearts while yours cracked and shattered. Your eyes must be closed in attempts to drown out the scars and the stars that didn’t answer when you called them every night. But with your eyes closed, your hands furiously scrubbing, you’ve missed the tenderness and softness that you offer the world. Your heart may seem empty but it is full to the bursting and even if you cannot always see it I will stand here to tell you that the sun shines where you are and you are more an angel than the demons that haunt you.

J

#poem #poetry

The simpleness of a moment one second in my car the shortest of kisses and I can still feel your lips. The first one where I’ve leaned back in as you move on with the clock and I sit in silence. The first one where fault lines shift against one another and I’m left being pulled and pulled back in. Where you walk to your door and I drive home and I wonder if I could simply come back to you, kiss you clueless until the sun starts to rise and tell you I’m your girl just never let me go. The simpleness of a moment one second in my car the shortest of kisses and I can still feel your lips.

#poem #poetry #love

After the war I was sandpaper creating friction with every move ripping through cotton and causing more wounds than healing. I was a stone wall so prone to crumbling as I stared at you blank faced and empty. It took years of the light years of kindness in response for my cuts to fade to invisible to finally feel soft again.

#poem #poetry #words

In the early 2000’s a storm went through and cut the power to my house. The rain that followed drenched my cupboards and every matchbook I owned. Years later, with all the electrical wires repaired and a dry calm settling over, I’ve managed to finally light a match, the glow illuminating the area surrounding me. And yet my fumbling fingers still can’t find the switch to turn the power back on.

#poem #poetry #depression

At night I hold a pillow tight to my body and a childhood teddy bear under my arm and I am not ashamed of needing comfort. I am not unloved, I am told every day on a good week by friends, family, and my dog if I listen closely. But it is only a faint reminder of being held, kisses in our cars, and falling asleep tangled that keep me lonely and longing. I become bitter with each passing day, watch my younger relatives marry and having families and still I sit at the kids table by myself and hold my own hand. I've been a good partner, hugging when sad playing pick-me-up tunes when necessary and letting I Love You's fall from my lips in the mirror. But what I wouldn't give to hear them from another, one who will kiss my forehead and wake me at 2am with their lips to mine. I am happy as me but I would give everything for a chance at we, to have more than a pillow occupy my space.

#poem #poetry #lonely

I am not shattered anymore there will be no romanticizing the scars that decorate my body no storms or broken bottles that will make my pain seem pretty and I will stand tall as my thumb traces over raised pearly white flesh that I am waiting for time to fade

#poem #poetry #lit #scars

I used to think I had a lot of Luck, but dumpster diving through the back alleys of my mind taught me: Luck has nothing to do with survival. You have to do with your survival; pushing limits, screaming, fighting and never backing down when even your bones have lit aflame.

you make your own Luck

#poetry #poem #lit #luck

I'm sorry it took your heart giving up on life for you to finally give up on alcohol I'm sorry that your daughter's pleas were not enough and that her crying at every party and every drunken night was not enough I'm sorry that the fights and the screaming and that every night she shook in her bed scared of the sun not rising was not enough I'm sorry that their pitying stares and sharp slapping comments about how it's not fair about how this isn't right was not enough I'm sorry that she fell to knives and jumping off bridges and bleeding on the bathroom floor tiles at 2am and that that was not enough I'm sorry that every time she asked you to stop was not enough I'm sorry that I was not enough I'm sorry that it finally took your heart giving up on life for you to give up alcohol

#poem #poetry

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