daily original poems*

*sometimes there's stories, sometimes there's nothing

[writingwritingwrong]

i hate to say sorry because i’ll just have to repeat myself again. it’s getting harder to continue there’s spots in my vision. i need this more than you know, so why do i abandon my own healing. i am not broken down right now but this still feels like progress. progress from what, i don’t know, but it feels like i’m taking those slow steps forward. my legs are asleep and i hurt with every step but i know i can make it somewhere. if only i could see where i was going. 

[writingwritingwrong]

if there was a day i stopped breathing, i think i would have remembered. but instead i am told about it like i am told about most of my own memories. there is a distance i have created from my own experience. i black out the mundane details and the important ones with no mercy. i don’t see the traffic lights and i don’t see my mom putting her card into her bag. i don’t see where we parked and i don’t see myself getting up from the chair. i don’t see her look at me and i don’t see her. i look back into what i’ve just done and find snapshots, not scenes. i look back and try to piece it all together to figure out what i’ve just done. why can i see the whole picture? 

[writingwritingwrong]

the walls were scuffed and needed patching. the new paint smells like dead flowers. i can’t breath until it dries. what did it cover? how did it end up needed attention like that in the first place? i scratch at the yellow walls until the walls disappear. there is nothing beyond them anymore. i dig into the void. the void digs back. i bleed until i lack blood and the void digs some more. there is no where to go except in. i need patching up. there is yellow paint in my veins and it smells like rot. 

[writingwritingwrong]

there was a day, not long ago, that i felt it all crashing down. i felt my fragile skin breaking away, crumbling into nothing. i looked out the window and was greeted with only void. 

i heard her voice on the other end of the phone and i thought why does she get to think like that. why does she think like that i know why but how can she expect me to solve it to fix it to break it. i couldn’t break through. i don’t know if she knows what i did, what i didn’t do. 

i hear her now and it’s so much better. healing is a process that does not just go straight ahead, but sometimes loops around to try again. i believe her now when she says okay. even if i shouldn’t

[writingwritingwrong]

if i were to start again, i approach it with one question: how?

if i were to start again, where?

and what, even? do i say anymore. i’ve forgotten all i’ve ever said and the words i want to say are a mystery to me. i no longer have the key to untangling my thoughts like i used to. 

it’s been a long day and my thoughts are running ahead and behind. they’re catching up and i’m catching up. we’re all running, breathless, sweaty, swearing. i think we’re close. 

[writingwritingwrong]

i look back and can’t believe the mess i’ve made. i spilled my blood out for all to see. i left seeds unplanted. tornadoes rushed through my words until they were no longer about me. i spoke for her instead of me. 

i can breath in now. it can all come back. i must be at the station before dark or else nothing is worth the time. i will leave my mess as it is and create a new one. hopefully this next one is worth saving. 

[writingwritingwrong]

screaming heart, broken hands

as i lay beside no one but myself, i am screaming. inside my heart is shaking, pumping just barely but harder than ever before there is no one but me and right now i am just enough for myself. i tuck myself in with broken hands the pain is burning my cheeks are burning the tears are burning my skin so touch starved it’s flaking away from me desperate to belong to something other than just me but i put myself to sleep tonight this will have to do

[writingwritingwrong]

i can't decide which state has the best summer sunsets california was mostly pink. little hints of sky through the mountains. not competing with much green colorado skies are the widest. the ground is so flat you can almost see the curve of the earth. you can see it snowing on the mountains while you're in sunshine. virginia can be any color. white streaks of clouds add to the gradients. the trees don't hide the sky but instead add a frame.

[writingwritingwrong]

the differences are little and subtle. he said he noticed them but i’m calling bs. he’s seeing what he always wanted to see. anyway, i’ve noticed small changes. like how i don’t always put things off. how i’ve been writing when it comes not when it’s due. im sleeping easier and waking easier on good days. i’m taking care of myself and my heart isn’t racing too bad anytime anyone looks at me. i can see the differences, though they are little and subtle. but i can see them. and they see me. 

[writingwritingwrong]

there is no need to ask. i will always be there. i want to and i know that it’s what i can do. don’t thank me. but i know this doesn’t work the other way around. i know that i am not important i know i am not the only one i know i am forgettable. but play along with me when i say i am the only thing in your life that matters. i need this pretend. 

[writingwritingwrong]

i wanted to write your story, but i can’t. i don’t want to acknowledge that you need your story written. you’re not gone, of course not. i swear when i go home you’ll be there, waiting for me. promise me? please?  i am talking to nothing no one is there no one answers i am all alone im screaming into the void help help help help help

[writingwritingwrong]

i am all alone. this was my choice. i put myself here. but now i am clawing at the walls, screaming at these windowless walls. i didn’t know. i didn’t know how it felt to be truly alone until now. now i’ve locked myself away from everything i’ve ever known. this won’t be good for me

[writingwritingwrong]

if I told you I’d written poems for you, would you believe me? if I showed you, would you know? have you seen them? do you know? can you see yourself in my declarations of love, my dear? will you let me read them to you tonight? will you sit still and let me love you?

[writingwritingwrong]

vows

when i was younger, before i met you, i wanted the words that we said to each other to be completely romantic ideals. i wanted you to say that when you found me, you found life. i wanted you to say that to live without me would not be life, to live without me would be evil, and stupid, and painful, and deadly and i wanted you to say that you will forever wait outside my door, waiting for me to bless you, and i wanted you to say that nothing in the world compares to me. 

but now i’ve met you and dear, i want you to never say any of that shit. i love you too much to think for even a second that your life before me was not life. i want you to have lived before we touched. i want your life before me to be anything but painful or evil or stupid or deadly. how could i ask you to wait on me forever? that’s the true hell to me. i wish and hope that you lived a marvelous life before me, and now that i’m part of it, we’ll continue. 

but darling, i wish that i had been with you always, before the dark and before the light, and before the heavens and hells, before the days and nights. i hope you say im better than gold, or silver, that i am better than pearls. that i am the Right Path that i am the Good Advice. i know i’m not always golden and shining. i know that i’m wrong that im not always going in the right direction that i ignore the good advice that comes my way but you, dear, will always be my one and only.

[writingwritingwrong]

hi there. sorry to bother you but i can only turn to you for help. and i’m not really asking for help right now. i’m just asking not to be alone. but you’re busy again? of course. i know you have other people in your life. it’s just that i don’t. i know you know that and i know you don’t like that. but there’s nothing i can do to fix it. i thought by now i’d be a different person. turns out i was wrong. so can you come over? even if we just watch shitty home improvement shows? i need just a little company. 

[writingwritingwrong]

your frame is just the beginning of your beauty my darling. it lines you, shows you off, makes you brighter. the colors that you’re made up of are my favorite part. pinks and blues and whites and golds. you were made out of paint strokes. those paint strokes tickle my heart. there are wonderful, careful details contrasting with sharp, bold streaks. you are everything in one. i am forever in debt to the hands and mind that created you. i am in love with you

[writingwritingwrong]

i keep thinking i made a mistake with you. not with you, actually, no. i mean a mistake with leaving you. this feeling comes to me in small bursts. today i realized our names made a perfect opportunity for word play. sometimes i think if i hadn’t left you, i wouldn’t be here, in another  state. i wonder, when these thoughts come, if i shared this with you, what would you think. would you be kind? too kind? would you not care? i’m never sure. sometimes i wish i could go back to when all of us were okay and together and happy. maybe we were never okay, or happy. maybe we were just together and that was enough then.