Jun 14

a poem written in hurt

i stuff my memories into a
glass jar, the cool surface
soothing my dry hands.

dancing alone never felt
this lonely before,
and i wonder if maybe
it's because he is dancing 
in the sky.

surrounded by angels,
surrounded by love, but all
i feel surrounded by is the 
never ending sadness
in her eyes.

he was pale, oh
so pale.

the thought haunts me.

the voice twists itself around
the crevices in my brain,
scratching at my skull.

i can't say i'm lonely
when millions surround me,
so i let the tide, slowly
but surely, pull me away.

i see the world in a grayscale,
my purples and pinks and reds and greens
unseen by my dark eyes.

prayers have become a sickened
rant against faith, and
if god was listening, 
he sure would be mad.

i'm mad?
i'm mad.

but most of all
Jun 12

an illness with no cure

an aching heart is
a common sickness, nevertheless,
it has no cure.

a spreading sadness,
a growing hole.

a hurt that is pushed
away, growing stronger
and stronger until it overtakes
the body which it inhabits.

there is no warning.
they don't tell you the side effects.

all you can do is move on.
May 25


sadness finds its
twisted path back into
her eyes as words drift
off her tongue like

sweetness melting 
into the dark, bitter
taste of mourning.

betrayal is the only
word to describe the sinking
feeling in my stomach
as i look up to the sky.

it feels like i'm
drowning as i reach up
for your hand, already
knowing that i won't feel
it closing around mine.

did it hurt when the 
broken wings sprouted from
your back?

did they fly you up, up
and away like they told me 
they would?

happiness seems like
such a faraway feeling, 
the hole in my heart
scaring it away.

love is such a dangerous
thing, when your entire soul
is hurting for someone
who is looking down from
the sky.

i wish like a child,
that you would come back,
kiss my cheek and
May 24


the pain comes in
crashing, violent waves that
leave my body broken,
my lungs heaving as i taste
the saltwater on my cheeks.

i sit out on the roof,
writing letters to wherever
you are now, because writing
is supposed to help.

i still feel your
heartbeat, steady under
mine, so how can you be
gone so quickly?

my fingers fold the
scraps of paper that i collect
into butterflies and cranes until
my art teacher tells me that
class ended 6 minutes ago.

the tears that have been
held back the whole day are 
released into my sheets with
sharp, heavy sobs.

i scream into my pillow
because i prayed to god,
i prayed, i prayed and he 
never listens, does he?

we are nothing, you were nothing,
but, oh, you were everything.
May 22

slipping away

they said that you slipped away
at night. they said you didn't suffer.       

i feel like i shouldn't miss you
already, but i hadn't seen you in 
2 years, and my fingers against the
phones screen doesn't count.
does it?

i'm trying not to fall apart,
because when i do, i know that
you won't be able to put me
back together again.

they say it was expected, with
your age, but you were the strongest
man i had ever known, and i swear, 
you were supposed to get through it.

i prayed every night, for your
heart to keep beating, so why
didn't god listen FOR ONCE?

i am on my hands and knees because
it just hit me that you are gone,
you are really, truly gone.

it's not fair, it's not fair,
it's never fair, because they don't
even get it, do they?

they don't understand that there is 
a hole in my heart, bleeding
May 05

a very familiar poem

her heartbeat quickened,
as did her pace, when she
heard your stalking footsteps.

you came a little too close,
asked for a little too much,
didn’t you?

her eyes were screaming for
help, but her mouth was closed
because she thought she
could trust you.

it wasn’t supposed to happen like 
this, not to her, not with you,
she knew you, at least,
she thought she did.

it’s so easy for you to
call her a slut, tell her she was
asking for it, but she
likes baggy jeans and
pink floyd, and she is so,
so scared of the s word.

she was too young, too
innocent to know what you
were, to see the poison leaking
from your smile.

you had the upper hand, 
you had her heart locked up
in a cage, her mouth sewn 
shut, just for you,
because she loved you.

you didn’t even know her

May 02

too many thoughts

running in cirles
as confused tears stream
down my face in 
a beautiful dance.

strawberries and cream,
mixing on your tongue, heavy
breath on her face.

i like laughing while i
throw my blue patterned china
at the wall, giggling
as i jump around the shards.

rain falling on her face
as you kiss her, down
by the river where you used
to take me to.

dancing at 2am as
violins swell on the soundtrack
in my mind, my heart racing
as i sing softly to the
framed picture the eiffel tower.

late night calls when you
can't stop thinking about her
smile, or her laugh.

screaming at the sky as
i pick at the strings on
my ukelele, long nails scraping
against the shingles on the roof.

watching her favorite movies,
having a great time with your
normal girl at her normal house.

sliding down the roof onto
Apr 30


on your tiptoes, pad
around the lonely house,
whispers of the spirits
thick in the air.

they tell you and me
secrets, secrets that you
could never tell to 
anyone else.

fluttering heartbeats as
cool water splashes into
the glass, cracked lips
longing to taste a new

the spirits, they tell
me not to say what i feel,
what i think.

they say that if i keep it all
inside of me, my heart will
ache, and i will forget.

they tell me what i know
will hurt you, that it will
hurt me and my tender innocence.

so i beg them, cover my
mouth with your binding hands,
hide my language in a far away cage
that only you have the key to,
because my mother didn't raise me
to stay silent, my mother didn't raise
a coward.
Apr 28
poem challenge: Six Words

beautiful hurt

Apr 23

the girl in blue

the girl in the blue 
coat walks by my porch every
day, and she smiles.
she smiles at me.

i have memorized her face,
her dimples, her perfectly straight
teeth, her light skin
with freckles, her green eyes
clouded with gold.

i want to reach out and touch
the soft blond locks of hair
that fall out of her braid as
she walks by.

she hums a tune in a sweet,
clear voice, and she carries her
juice box in her hand, a flower
in her bag as she twirls around.

every time she walks by,
she takes a sip of juice, 
peach flavored.
sweet, i imagine.

she does not have a name,
at least not that i know of,
but i long to call her by it.

i long to let the butterflies
beating in my stomach free to
fly above her golden head.

i stare at her, the aching
in my chest almost sweet as
i hear her singing.