I am destroyed

I am the pieces of a broken vase, clumsily put together, pretty to look at and impossible to hold

If you pick me up, I’ll cut your hands and crumble to nothing

I am destroyed

I am chain smoking until you feel sick

I am the smell of loneliness on your hands when you’re alone late in the evening crying softly 

                  wishing things would change

I am the step you take that twists your ankles but you have to keep moving because it’s not really that bad

I am the doctor’s visit that follows that shows you your leg is broken

Because I am destroyed

And I cannot let anyone know

I am everything no one wants

Because at every job they teach you that no one likes unhappy

I am everything they do not want you to be

No one likes pain

I am everything they try to hide

We are what we are and there is nothing else but earth and society

I am claustrophobia so extreme that the universe feels so small and suffocating

Because how can we be free if there’s nowhere to go but somewhere on this planet or in this universe? We are so limited by boundless opportunities

I think maybe I’m evil

The way I tear things apart

The way I crumble at your touch

It’s like I’m hiding behind this façade and before you can run from me

I turn into something new

I am destroyed, you see.

So please don’t follow me.

Inspiration

I found inspiration in the pale white scar on his chest where he tried to set his demons free

I found inspiration in the pain he felt despite never being hurt

I found inspiration in his fear to love me

I found inspiration in the way he seems to be running from something he can’t say

I found inspiration in his happiness at my complicated replies, in the way he seemed excited to learn why I am in pain, and his quick correction to say he does not understand, making him the first to admit

You do not understand

I find inspiration in the way he disappeared and in the way he lied when I knew the truth

I find inspiration in his façade; in his stoner talk; in his cool guy talk; in his fascination with money; in his attempts at Buddhism; the books he reads; in being so much all at once

I find inspiration because he should love me and maybe, I too should love him; but we cannot

In the way he believes only two things are proven; gravity and love

 But he seems so terrified of both

I find inspiration in the sadness he brought me

Sadness not from silence but rather the introspection he brought back into my life

I find inspiration because he reminded me of who I am

I find inspiration in the way he looked at me and yearned for me, but would not admit it

I find inspiration because in one night, he wiped away every ounce of confusion

I think of his words

I think of his mind

I think of our parallels and realize

We are so close we will never speak again

I am Venomous

I remember the day my father left, I turned to my mother and said “does this mean I can call you mommy now?”

I remember blocking her from fists with my tiny arms, only to be thrown to the side

But  my love for my mother is stronger than any hand looking for a place to land.

I remember learning in school, that children from abused homes, will have trouble with social relationships later in life, including romantic relationships.

So when you stare at me with that drooping face, silent eyes and silent mouth, ignoring every word I just threw at you, I want to scream because sounds of fists hitting skin are easier to listen to then the silence you bring into my life. silence is deafening when it comes from the one you love.

Which makes me wonder why I’m so quick to love you when you can’t even speak my name, is it me that’s having trouble or is it you?

I ask you if you’ve ever thought about dying and you say no, you have not, you have never wanted to kill yourself and feel the end but I do not believe you because you spend way too much time on the couch playing video games without ambition to truly want to be alive.

you say you have wanted to kill someone before, shotgun poised in hand, opening the door, staring at a man sleeping on the couch that you wish were dead.

But to this day, you go see him every week to mow his lawn while he laughs about your mothers bruises.

bruises are hard to erase, they fade but you still find yourself pushing the skin where they once laid, hoping for a reminder to know what happened was real but everything seems to fade in the end and so should your sadness, but mine never did.

Now when I look into the eyes of any man, I think of my mother.

I realize that over time, I slowly stopped hugging her because the pain of being touched by another is just too great.

but I’m so quick to jump into the bed of a lover, creating flourished romances out of nothing, finding myself groped and grinning allowing it when this man will never love me, but I won’t let the woman who gave me everything hug me because I want to be loved but only look for it in places that it will never be.

and maybe that’s fucked up. but I’m terrified of finding myself unable to be loved again. your silence has broken me.

like moist wood in the summer time, I have become worthless, I cannot burn, I only rot. the only house I can be used to build is one for termites and let me tell you something, termites eat each others feces, eerily similar to the men I attract; they are full of shit.

They call me beautiful, getting inside and pulling me apart, piece by piece, until they are full, breaking down my tough fibrous being, making me imagine myself as some red lipped beauty queen. but I call myself disaster and they agree. my friend agrees but adds “beautiful,” but what is beautiful about walking into my apartment building in the morning, smudged eyeliner and smeared lipstick, holding my head up, tears back and collapsing in the shower swearing to myself that I am unforgettable.

but let me tell you something, I will plague your mind like insanity that gives in to no sedation,

I am the sickness, making you weak, sending you through the streets, unforgettable sight like dead bodies lining the road, melting in the hot sun

because I don’t have to be beautiful to consume your mind,

do not tempt me with your feeble attempts to harm me because I will drag my ass out of that shower, put on a new shade of bitch and walk out the door untouchable, you will never know the strut of my walk of shame twice because I am venomous and you could not handle me.

The Most Beautiful Thing in the World

I embraced the summer dawn

As you rested in the hospital room

Still fresh in the world,

I never expected to love you as fiercly as I do

I never would have known that the only boy I would want in my life is my beautiful brother

The only voice I want calling my name in the early morning is his

His miniature voice calling to wake me, to come play and be human in his presence

He is the only one I want creeping into my bathroom asking if I’m showering

Cheering because in his eyes, everything I do is great

And only ever being scolded by him because daddy taught him I bring mess

And oh, I am a mess but in a way he’ll never have to know

Because on my bleak days, I miss him more than happiness

Because he’s the only person I’ll speak to after regurgitating on my face

The only time I’ll ever laugh because he does not know what he did

And one day, I’ll get to tell his first love the story and watch his face plaster with embarrassment

And one day, I’ll get to tell him the story to mend his broken heart because love can be painful

And if I can love him even after he poured our mother’s breast milk on my face,

I know a girl can love him no matter how diminishing his flaws

Because one day I’ll have my own children

But he’ll always be my first diaper change,

The first giggle I adored

The first cry that made my heart ache

The first I tortured with kisses

The first to run away begging for more

The first I wanted to protect with every ounce of myself, even if there’s not much of me, I’d do it all

The first child I loved

Because he is the only person I will allow to take my things and declare them as his

Because being far from him is harder than I ever imagined it could be

Because when I want to give up on everything and move far away, I remember

I need to see him grow up,

I need to know him

And I remember how much I long to hear,

“That’s my sister and one day, I want to be just like her.”

Because when the week is eternal and the days drape themselves around my neck, weighted with exhaustion

I imagine your bold blue eyes, sharp against your dark skin,

Your tufted hair, perched atop your head

Your hurried footsteps, since everything in your life is currently a mission

I imagine you screaming ecstatically as I whisper your name when I come to get you from daycare

Throwing yourself down because at two, there are some emotions you just cannot bear

But even at my age, I cry the whole way home, because some emotions we never learn to control, because true excitement cannot be contained inside

Because I may be far

But I can climb into my car, get on an endless road and drive home to you

Because the tears still creep down my face as I open the door, and before I know it

Tiny caramel hands wrap around my fingers and I know I’m home.

His Poem

The needle skips on the record
Repeating the same line “waiting for super-, waiting for super-, waiting for super-“
She’s lying next to half a bottle of dreams
Draped over a torn scarlet chair
Singing quietly to herself “waiting.”
She lets the words linger on her lips, tasting them softly
She whispers his name “superman”
Her superman
Running through her life like a child with crayons
Coloring outside the lines, bringing chaos to her quiet mind
Beautiful chaos
Turning anguish into something new, depression into something more periwinkle and less blue
Turning sadness into something that could be mistaken for beauty
Oh the things that man could do.

                        “Save her now before it’s too late tonight”

With a flick of his wrist he turned what seemed to be an escape into a bottle of Tylenol.
He molded her heart and kept it safe in a box, away from spite and hatred.
He showed her a mirror and never once noticed her deep scars
Instead he just pointed out her curves, her body, calling her art.

                        “History is like gravity, it holds you down away from me”

One the days she was disconsolate, his phone calls faded, but his presence reigned strong.
She learned to pull out of her mind and find comfort in his affection.
On the days she was disconsolate, he held her tight, proving to her she was alive
And that maybe that too, could one day be beautiful.

                           “I should have given you a reason to stay”

Sometimes a smile can be the most difficult thing to muster
But each day he slapped one on and went on his way.
Inside she could see he was dying.
With tears in his eyes he would swear he’s not crying.
He would promise he is all right then ignore her all night.
But she pushed on, swearing her love, never letting go.

                               “I just wanted you to let me in”

He broke, and she never knew why.
Slowly he backed out of her life.
Pain in his eyes he would refuse to explain, kiss her and move away.
His grandfather passed and she could fix nothing.
He saved her life, her mind, her heart and she could only push him off the edge.
She found her escape and for it, he despised her more.

                                 “I don't know where I'm going but I don't think I'm coming home”

Little did he know if she could, she would take his place.
She’d save anyone who made her superman blithe.
She called over a hundred times, waiting for an answer, begging for affection, adoration.
She shrank away from the mirrors and swore he would return.
For he was her hero, and she knew he would come save her again.

                                 “And then she whispered “How can you do this to me?””

Her screams can be heard outside her mind as her bottle spills upon the floor.
She finds herself singing, trying to convince herself that her scars can be beautiful.
She once found herself hiding and now finds herself showing herself, proud of whom she is.
Oh how that man stole her mind, sharing her dreams leaving her with half a bottle and no return.

                             “If all you wanted was love, why would you use me up? All I wanted to be was your giving tree”

Maybe he would have stayed if he knew what he did for her.
Her mind often strayed to feeling insignificant, insufficient.
Never did she consider, he was falling down the same hole.
He grew fields of adoration in her mind watering her apple trees, bringing peace to her mind
He could not have never known the wonders he brought
The smiles and shrugs, the respect she had for herself, how she managed to pick herself and move on in hard times.
He was more than enough, more than good, more than perfect.
He saved a child and helped her grow into a woman all with a smile.

                            “I didn’t want to care and then I saw you there”

Maybe no one else would ever care for her again, but that would just be all right.
He gave her something to live for, something permanent.
She had dreams; she could finally live for herself,
And if he allowed, she could live for them.

                                “Well you see her when you fall asleep , but never to touch and never to keep. 'Cause you loved her too much”

He’ll be here, he always returns. Her angel of darkness, sneaking into her life, taking root in her heart.
“Waiting for super-“
He’s just a little bit late.

Unstoppable

I thought I would be limitless, boundless, unstoppable

But looking at my hands I realize

I am pausable, worthless, homeless

I thought I was powerful, strong and beautiful

But I look into my eyes and see weakness, fear

I thought I would be sane, thought out, controlled

But as I look at my veins

I see tenderness, pain and insanity

I thought I would be different

But as I look at my clothes, my face, my mirror

I realize I blend into society

Voiceless

Alone

Sent to war

On nothing but pennies

I thought I was a fighter

I am as afraid as the rest of them, unable to walk away

I am an animal

Weak kneed with a loud growl

I am a human

I am selfish

Greedy

I am heartbroken, young and restless.

Faith

If we were Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden

When you expressed interest in the fruit

I would swear to get it for you

When I were caught holding the fruit

I would take the blame, face the charges

And leave

If God asked me, did he help you?

I would say no,

He tried to stop me

For I am woman and I am corrupted

Let him stay.

I would spend an eternity sitting outside the gates

Hiding in shame under clothes of wool and chain

I would watch you

Bare and free

Saved because I am a slave to thee

I would give up eternal bliss and  to watch you dance

To hear you sing by God’s side

While I were stuck

Between heaven and hell

Alone in a place called the world

With traffic and murder

Where people like you are strippers

And people like me are whores.

When I die, and am asked if I have remorse,

What motivated me?

Can I be forgiven?

I would lie and say I am greedy

Because I am woman,

I am corrupted.

I may seem free

 I was shackled

Because you did not love me

He knows I am lying but says nothing

And banishes me

To the darkness below the earth

Where I may burn because woman is corrupted

And it is me who has confined all of mankind

To hatred

And all of women

To prison.