art

Uncomfortably Numb

I am numb
yet I feel everything so powerfully
so deeply
that my bones ache
and my veins throb
and my head weighs down my fragile neck

I am numb
and I know not how much more I can take
how much more these shoulders can carry
and these hands can grasp
that have lived to see so many days
but have never felt alive

You were dark
like a crisp November day
cold and beautiful and confident
touching me from the inside out
and oh how good it felt to have you in my head
to hear your voice call me baby
to hold your icy hands
knowing this could not last forever
but you were never meant to be permanent

Your Pain Isn’t Beautiful

Your pain isn’t beautiful.

It’s a cankerous sore that

demands to be felt

that opens old wounds

and litters new dreams

until your only focus becomes

the suffocating pain

that consumes your being.

Your pain is toxic.

Your pain is a deadly cancer

and romanticizing your sadness

will never make it go

away.

Thoughts before I drift off to sleep

I lay here
wishing this sheet
wrapped around me were
your arms
and this deafening
silence was filled
with the gentle caress
of your breath
yet all I am left
with is this paralyzing
wave of emptiness
and the
willingness
to find
comfort in this
relentless instability

A Weight of its Own

I used to feel an aching sorrow
in my chest
as if every mistake I had ever
made had been piled on top
of me

and although I have since been
relieved of that weight
I do no feel light
I do not feel free
Like a soaring bird heading
to find warmth

all I feel is anticipation
for a journey to a
destination I am still
uncertain of
and that is a weight
of its own

On Beginnings

I like beginnings,
beginnings of books and movies,
of life stages and relationships.
There is nothing so final and concrete
about beginnings.
In the beginning,
everything is new,
a great unknown we try
to understand with excitement
and fear.
But endings,
endings are filled with too
much pain and often regret.
At least one can remain
temporarily ignorant in the
beginning.
That is what I miss the most,
not knowing how it ends.

Depersonalized

I am but a window
and my eyes only see
what they want me to see
and while your words effect this body,
this heart has very carefully shut itself away.
I watch myself live my life as a passive viewer,
an uninterested audience member
and only occasionally do I stop to question if this is reality
when I feel as if I am only a pawn in a video game,
alive but not quite living

Another Stomach Ache

There is a disease that has consumed me
A disease some might call love
Others, infatuation
Yet this foolishness
This gambling of emotions
Is only ever temporary
Soul mate is a rather nonsensical term
And all you ever did for me
Was make my stomach ache

This is starting to hurt too much

My heart is aching
And you have no idea
You have no idea
How many times I wished I was drunk
How many times I cried myself into an icy stupor
In order to avoid feeling the great amount of pain that I do
And I know you are finding yourself
As you should
But you have taken a piece of myself with you
And I would like to have it back
I would like to have you back in my arms
Caressing my face and telling me that everything will be okay
As I have always told you

Sometimes

And sometimes it still hurts.
Sometimes I still feel the lingering sting of it all,
a memory long gone, slowly fading, but still within sight.
And sometimes I have nightmares about you
that give me shivers and cold sweats,
the image of your screaming face still imprinted in my mind.
But you were poison oak and my skin was much too fragile
to make it out unscathed.
And sometimes I can still feel the bruises you left behind,
jamming my fingers into them,
as they weep like tiny stab wounds.
And I am left here,
still trying to wipe your name from my tongue,
and oh how bitter it tastes.