Waiting

Let it go,

let it be,

this voice that is bothering me,

your name reminding me

to slow it down.

The spaces in your head–

those crevices ain’t dead,

just waiting for a whisper

and you’re gone.

October 13, 2015

Advertisements

I Don’t

I don’t want to talk about it–

all I will do is let my emotions get in the way

I don’t want to talk about it–

so let the bad blood flow, let it stay

in the same spot it stood yesterday

when I realized that I’ve been living in two worlds,

never realizing that they make up one life.

I don’t want to talk about it–

the fear of being wrong, of being imperfect

will let that dog remain a stray

I will say “I’m sorry,” and “I’m sorry,”

and “I’m sorry,” until it feels like that’s all my lips

have ever said– even if I’m really sorry

for shitty mistakes, broken masterpieces,

pretending that I can make everyone happy

at one time.

Worlds collide, because we only live in one world.

You think that I’d know that by now.

So I don’t want to talk about it–

just accept my flaws as they are

and I’ll continue to read your insecurities on the page

like you read mine so long ago.

I don’t want to talk about it–

but from looking in your eyes,

we already have.

June 13, 2015

Home

I’m not looking for The One.

I suppose I’m just looking for the one I won’t get tired of.

……

The number of betrays I have felt–

they are buried down deep

and it was not until I was ready enough to hold the shovel

that I could dig them out and start to peek

at the friends that I fell for,

the hearts that broke

a piece of mine away

and it’s like I’m still looking for the pieces.

…..

I never intend for much of anything

to happen

because once I feel like something is “home”

like someone is “home”

I want nothing more but to stay in one place

in time

and swim as the minutes swoon,

tears fall, smiles appear

…..

I don’t want them to go away;

this explains why my biggest fear is change

….

Not just any change,

like the nickels in my pocket,

the grass stain on my shirt,

my aging years, the new day coming

….

We learn lessons not from god,

but from his gifts

this world is nothing but experience

and yet all we want is not thankfulness,

but choice

between “who” and “what” and “when”

and the childhood friends that soiled your memories

or maybe just burned up the sides

of the one polaroid you have left.

..

All I want is to go home.

.

All I need is to realize, to accept,

that home is not the same place it was when I left it.

………………………………………………………………………….

May, 25, 2015

I, You, and Me

“There’s no need

to play with my heart.”

I never realized

just how badly

you hurt me

But the beauty

is that it is not “me”

that you hurt.

I am human,

a continuous self

not stagnant,

sitting on a shelf

I have learned

and I have moved

away

from the erroneous notion

that “I”

is a real term–

we are all connected

please show me

in the times my past

comes creeping up into my chest

that the pain is worth

the sunshine I still see

outside my window,

the candles lighting my table

they sit

honestly,

knowingly,

unquestioning

of past boyfriends and best friends

who seemed to know what was best for me

when I was a “me” without a voice

Now,

I am heard

we all have something to say–

first to ourselves

the memories will still glitter

like gold

as I crumple up the ugly

into ashes,

for my soul has always been clean

You were 

always hurting,

for you were

are

human, too,

on the brink of an island

of our childhoods,

our teenage, innocence-tacked

to-naivety

years

have gone by

and I feel like the only thing left

to do

is to not to forgive and forget,

but to forgive…

And then hurry on back

to my “me,”

our “us,”

now.

..

inspired in part by the music of Noah and the Whale 

.

April 5, 2015

Losing a Friend

There was never

A more beautiful place

To lose a friend.

 

The tide pulls and pushes

My heart strings back

And forth,

Reminding me of the times

I could laugh at her smile

And run down a white line

Screaming, “Follow!”

 

There’s never a good time

To lose a friend.

 

They can be sitting right next to you

On a colored blanket,

Sullen,

Feeling three thousand miles away

 

And still moving.

 

There was love here,

A no judge, no hate

Type of love that was, perhaps,

An invisible mist–

Like Malibu air singing to the waves,

The ocean breathing back.

 

It’s a love that defends itself

Against heartbreak

Until it questions its existence

To begin with.

 

It all started here…

On an ocean cliff where I knew

That I was falling

So she caught me, with that special

Kind of I-understand-how-you’re

Flowing-

Needing-only-a-minute-in-the-car

Windows-open-singshouting-a-song

Moment to know

That we would be connected

For a long while.

 

Even a long while ends–

Like the water reaching my rock

It knows when to steer back

It is only natural.

 

Then why do my thoughts

Leave a suppressed sigh knowing

That she could have done more,

Knowing that she could be more

Knowing that I still love our past,

 

But that I cannot see a future

 

Full of bitchy side comments

And over-indulged spending;

She can buy whatever she wants

But she most certainly can’t buy

My heart

 

It’s flying free,

A journey in mind

That this pain could break if it had bones–

Right now there’s only water

 

Drifting me back to now,

To me,

To friends that support the highs

And lows of my shore,

A cascade moon pulling

The water inwards,

 

Promising a new tomorrow.

 

April 1, 2015

She Cares

No–

I do not agree

that you can care about

someone, something

“too much.”

 

It’s all about how you act

upon that care

you can be the camel–

carry a load upon your back

and make it feel natural,

still, but heavy,

or you can be the water.

 

Drink only what is necessary

for being alive in your life

because, frankly,

I am here now

let’s teach our daughters

first

that one should develop a mind,

a compassionate being

is important

in leading you to “cool friends”–

not that “cool friends,”

drinking all the water for themselves,

make you important.

 

May 17, 2014

A Sailor

You cannot put people

into buckets

for when the rain comes

a bucket will only hold so much–

and yet a friend holds all

a boy once told me

that I had the eyes of a sailor,

on the lookout for my crew

I knew I’d board one day

when the weather was right,

all people, legs and sweaty hands

grasping the railing

oak and salt mixed hybrid

you

are on the ship, too.

Off in the corner–

“Hold the wheel!”

“But you only gave me one

bucket to lean on, sir!”

 

You do not know me

and I most certainly do not

know you in full, but certainly

we must realize

how the waves link our hands

in light reflected on the cabin floor,

and “Land ho!” screams to remind us

you fill in all of me,

not part.

 

first poem of the year, on my birthday ❤ 

 

January, 1, 2015