I don’t remember the name of my kindergarten teacher
or what shoes I wore to graduation
I don’t remember my fathers birthday or my sisters middle name
I don’t remember my best friends favorite number or the color of their eyes
but I remember where I stood and what I wore down to the shoes.
I remember how you looked and what cologne you wore.
I remember every moment leading to our kiss.
I remember how your lips felt, still.
and I remember the day you broke my heart.
I simply forgot where I lost you in between.
floating on a sea of voices
they carry me through the day
surrounded by syllables
creating waves to help me stray
a journey through stories
of nobody explorers of dreams
jumbled alphabet of distractions
I sip off sweetly worded schemes
the imagery carries me home
and drops me in my bed
and suddenly is it too quiet
and all I hear are empty sentences
in my head.
I once woke up
with two black eyes
that didn’t even bother
to swallow the sun
Before I knew it
the blackness had smudged
and poured like thick tar
down my cheeks
my body became
drenched in a darkness
that reached deep in
and kissed my soul
and swallowed me instead.
Lost at sea
Inside a broken piano
Sunken inside a ship
On board where ghosts dance through
p.s. I lose.
I hope this life has been for something
that I put a smile on a face
or warmed someone’s heart
but something tells me I am not so fortunate.
it’s always been a battle
internally and externally
my problems feel small to tell
but they feel like a cancer inside.
the issues they grow and feed on fear
and they keep my up at night with their plans
they have whispered it to me as a thought
that maybe it is death that is my rightful place.
when I close my eyes it is suffering I see
and when I open my heart it is pain I feel
and just when I think my mind is made up
my legs give out and I am stumbling again.
I’ve searched for the answers
for a reason, or new doubt
I’ve come to the conclusion though
and this battle can only end one way.
p.s. I lose.
We were kids staring into mirrors
At the blank canvases we were
And we grew up and let others paint
The picture and suddenly
We were grown and wondering
Why we hated the image staring
Right back at us
sometimes the world gets too heavy
even if it’s only your tiny piece of it
it still breaks your spine
and it crushes your soul
it doesn’t bother to roll away
because it wants to remind you
that you failed
you try to heal and grow strong
to place your piece back into life
but sometimes you stay broken
and misshapen you lay
until you die.
It’s ironic how this world made us
And we were made for this world
With feet to balance us
And gravity to hold us
And legs to carry us
We create ways to fly
And then we spend our lives
Clipping our wings
Dissembling our bodies
To one spot where we waste away
And the world swallows us after
Thinking we were such a waste
And it recycles us as another chance
And we spend it again
Stuck in what’s recognizable
And never journeying across
To discover, to learn
To find the hidden stories among
The world that was made for
You and me.