Showerhead

Water drops bursting again my skin,

burning my arms red

until the pain begins

to overwhelm me. The showerhead

doesn’t stop even when I internally beg it to.

It reminds of you.

How couldn’t you see that what you did was wrong?

Puddin’

I, an open vessel

wait to be filled.

I lower the floodgates

and you pour your love into me

causing my love for you to overflow

back into you.

Pouring and pouring,

but we never empty.

I am filled by you,

by every piece of you,

by every emotion you speak and feel.

I am overwhelmed but calm,

a little scared,

but you make me feel safe.


I, a poet

rarely find the aspiration

to write a love poem.

I write when a feeling becomes too much,

too much to contain inside myself.

You are too much for me to contain inside myself.

I need you to be free.

I need you to pour out of me,

onto keyboards and into books.

I need the world to know:

how loved you made me feel in this exact moment,

how inspiring you are.

You are my muse for love.

When I think of you I get excited about the idea of it.

Did he ever love me?

Everything’s okay.

Just get in the car and go.

Just shake their hands; say hello.

Everything’s okay.


It’s just another day.

You see your father lifeless in a coffin

and your hate for him softens.

It’s not just another day,


but everything’s still okay.

Black fabrics soaked by yours brothers’ tears,

making it completely clear,

that everything is not okay.

I hate him.

Sorrow bubbles to my eyes;

I try to pop it with my eyelashes before it liquifies.

I hate him.


Did he ever love me?

How much does forgiveness demand…

to forgive someone who only rose a violent hand

instead of their children? Did he ever love me?


I can’t just hate him.

A need to love, to forgive him shown on my cheeks.

Love is something fatherless children can’t help but seek.

I can’t just hate him.


He couldn’t have loved me.

He only ever brought me pain.

Made my sanity impossible to maintain.

He never loved me.


Everything is okay again;

it’s just another day.

I hate him

because he never loved me.

Drowning in Blue

Dangerous blues,

tormenting eyes,

a wet

face

which was told lies: “I love you”. A cold

heart


awaiting death. She poisoned my heart

with sugar lips and false happiness. My chest a blue

cavern. My insides hollow and cold.

I think of her eyes

and a tear runs down my face.

A salty taste between my wet


lips. Soaking wet,

like my drowning heart.

Sinking in the image of her face,

in her enthralling blue

eyes.

Her waters unbearably cold,


overflowing from my chest. Pouring from my cold

wet

eyes

dripping waters to the rhythm of my heart.

My heart beat until it was made of only purples and blues.

The beat of Blues music so sweet, so sorrow. No sugar smile left on my face.

I’m haunted at the thought of her face,

at how it brings me pain on cold

vibrant blue

nights. The air wet 

quivering with longing, a moisture made of my heart’s

regrets: “I love you too”. The night’s twinkling eyes

see how she hurt me. They know that her lies, her eyes,

are something I cannot bare to face.

Her words rockin’ me to sleep with sugar sweet lullalies. This heart-

ache never ends. Make her stop singing! The cold

snow falling around me. I’m being buried in this frozen wetness

that I cannot escape from. Staring up at blue


memories filled with sorrows and sympathetic twinkling eyes. Cold

whiteness layering on my face. Engulfed by a wet

burning sensation until I feel nothing; my body frozen blue.

“I love you”….. her singing stops.

Salt

Quick heart beats in cold vacant parking lots.

The tight grip, heavy breaths,

sweat.

My face shoved down hard into his backseat,

the fabric rug burned onto my cheek.

The smell of air freshener and sorrow.


His tongue tasted of the salts of my skin when he kissed me goodbye and said “I love you.”

If only I said goodbye to myself too:

a subtle wave, 

a tear.


Every salt, every atom of my sanity was stolen from me that night

Now I am bland: baggy hoodies and layered clothing,

unfun,

unlike those free “wild” girls

showing their bodies with pride.


My pride on a platter,

picked away from his teeth with a toothpick

until all that remained was nothing.


Our friends keep asking if I’m okay.

He smiles in their faces, puts his arm around me;

I say, “of course!”

I put on this show day after day,

month after month.

He says “I love you.”

Our friends applaud with so cutes and awww how sweets,

but I say nothing.

Head hung low, my eyes tell all,

whispering truths to the pavement.


He kisses my cheek…

it burns.

He says “I love you”

“Awww how sweet”

But this time,

I raise my head,

chin high, tears running down face,

My voice stern with anger,  “HOW SALT!”

semi-Summer romance

The taste of a semi-Summer romance,

a dance

of a need to be loved and wanting to love.

He held me close to his chest,

desperate to feel something other than empty,

and I gave him everything,

filled him of all his cravings.

I allowed him to swallow me whole,

trusted that he’d keep me safe in the pit of his heart.

A part

of me drenched in fear, the other swooning. 

I questioned our happy until it was routine,

smiled like it wasn’t something weird to me,

and laughed until I cried so much that it felt like there was no other reason to cry.

But that’s not true.

There’s always other reasons to cry.

It just hides from us sometimes,

like a secret,

or the truth.

Ashes

Ashes to ashes,

my lungs full of dust.

Growing from their ruins,

love wasn’t enough.


Growing in the flames,

burning all the same.

No point of bandages 

that will incinerate off.

Forced to feel.

Must wait to heal.


When the fire stops

I will try to find peace in the ashes.

My skin is painted black;

I must cleanse my body of your mistakes:

remove the poison from inside,


let go of the hate 

which fueled the flames

in order to stop the burning.


I rewrite my DNA to rid myself on them,

erase both 50s in a hundred percent.

Then what’s left of me?

0

And if I am nothing, am I really anything?

Anyone?

I am lost,

learning the truth,

and learning how alone really they left us.