Poetry

All I see,

Turning heads.

I can’t believe

You want me dead.

I spoke the truth

And you spoke lies

I still feel

Maybe you’ll notice

         The way I look at your face

Or maybe you’ll stay oblivious

SItting on a chair,

Waiting patiently as I rise

Into the heavens we go

Then comes the end of the rope,

And down the slope we go.

I like him 

but it won't work

He is so nice 

then why did he do that

I was safe, and he listened

was it just lust 

I should be happy 

What am I?

You say I’m a helicopter.

So I spin just to please you.

But why don’t you try

To understand my pain?

Can my heart slow?

O, shadow figure

You stand in corners

You hide from light

Don’t let her see you

Don’t let her feel you

You’re only a phantom

Five seconds was all it took for the heart to stop.

The thread was careful under my hands.

Inside of the sterile room one tear dropped

from who knows who. 

No one speaks of the safety. 

A better place, they whisper

yet, its your arms i long to embrace.

they call it heaven,

a place above,

better than the earth we love.

if heavens better,

why does my heart ache for love i can't remake?

because i was exhausted and cranky
and it was too late in the week to be walking home
and because texas was threatening to rain all over us, especially me.

I keep checking 
the places happiness once sat, 

like a pocket 
I’ve already turned inside out. 

Loss is weird,

It twist and churns

Rippling the current

that is my reality.

For a while,

I was so fine,

I was okay with

The cards I was dealt.
 

I accepted what was—

You see the teacher standing at the front of the room —

Organized. Patient. Smiling like she has all the answers.

What you don’t see is the stack of bills on her kitchen counter,

Or the nights she stays awake wondering