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There Is A Little Boy
There is a little boy
who doesn't quite understand.
He knows he's in Room
and he is happy with that.
Everything is soft and fuzzy
in Room.
Outside the other boys
won't play with him.
Teacher says it's because he
is special.
Mommy says the same.
There is a little boy
who loves to learn.
He sits in Chair
and writes with Pencil.
He dips his finger in paint
and makes Mommy
a flower.
He kicks Ball
and laughs at Puppet.
They are his friends.
His only friends.
There is a little boy
who is very lonely.
It is only him,
Teacher and
Mommy.
Daddy left.
Mommy said Daddy
was mean and didn't
like his specialness.
It's little boy's fault.
There is a little boy
who cries himself to sleep.
He cries in Bed
and cuddles
with Blanket.
He whispers to them
and they whisper back.
Bed makes him warm
and rocks him to sleep.
Blanket says she loves him
as she dries his tears
and kisses him goodnight.
They love little boy.
What You Never Knew
If I were to write you a letter
I would like to think I would
have the courage to tell you
all about the abounding feelings
that flowed from my chest
when you were with me.
I would probably start by
telling you that your touch
laced my skin with an inferno
that not even the Atlantic
could put out.
Next, I would describe
how your scent made
my blood sing a song
more delicious than
honey trickling slowly
along your frame.
After, I would show you
how your gaze sent the
cells of my limbs into
the most heavenly hysteria,
a discourse that could
shatter me in the best way.
Finally, I would describe how
your words filled the galaxy
between my bones with
endless stars and constellations
that make the Milky Way look
like dust among a meteor shower.
I hope you realize how you
destroy me so perfectly
and put me together even
better than before.
Anatomy
Who could use words to describe you?
When I see you, when I think of you,
when the very idea of all that you are
seeps into my brain, my mouth ceases to work.
Everything that you consist of sits in my mind
as a series of flashes that are only connected
by the love I hold for you and when I try
to explain this love, this burning feeling
that laces every molecule within me,
these are the things I say:
You smell like morning dew after a long
night of violent storms, when I wake up
with bruises and you never went to sleep.
You sound like a clock and as each minutes passes
you edge closer to eruption, or maybe it's implosion,
but either way we both end up lacerated and a bit lonely.
You feel like a gentle breeze that I remember
from my childhood spent lakeside. A gust
that flipped and howled so suddenly I forget
to be afraid and laughed through the crying monsoon.
And your taste.
Oh, God how you taste.
Every time we kiss it's like biting into dark chocolate.
Bittersweet. Sweet to my tongue and bitter to my heart.
It's as if my body aches when our lips meet but the misery
is so addicting I refuse to contemplate letting go.
How perfect are we? Self destructive and empathetically in love.
I love this. I love you.
This is what you are.
Arson
I am watching my city burn.
People set fire to their houses and make the
night sky glow like a thousand
pyres dedicated to all the living
who are dead on the inside.
And I am blaming with a torch
in my hand, waiting for the blaze
to consume the walls of what I love.
Because we are blind to our destruction,
and like Icarus next to the sun, we feel
a fleeting glow before our descent.
So we accuse others of our fall
to justify our failure, when we
are all just arsonists burning in our own flames.
And still we are not warm.
Apologies
If I have to hear that word
leave your lips again
I will most likely scream,
or faint, or maybe just
implode under your ignorance.
Maybe your mouth should be locked
so we can avoid any further injuries
that your tongue always seems to form.
Or maybe I should realize
how bad you are for me
and take it upon myself
to run away from the tragedy
that I seem to love so much.
Because I don't think I can
make it through another miserable
struggle or raging combat.
You let loose the words that
wreck my soul and I can feel
myself falling a little further
as they hit without warning,
tearing through my freckled
flesh and quivering veins.
You start with my 'broad shoulders'
'Sorry'
Then move to my 'disgusting stomach'
'Sorry'
Down to my 'hideous thighs'
'Sorry'
Back up to my 'feeble heart'
'Sorry'
That word isn't enough.
It's like putting a Band-Aid over
a bullet wound.
They bleed through the layers,
never really healing, just hiding
under fresh skin
until you decide to attack again.
Eleven
1.The phone call that broke my world apart
tearing the fabric of my innocence
as I was thrust into reality too soon.
2. The lungs that collapsed from the weight
on my chest as the words crashed
into my mind piece by piece.
3. The loved ones who cry every night
because they can't help but blame themselves
for not being able to see the invisible.
4. The years we had known each other
that all seem to be a blur
of fading classrooms and familiar ghosts.
5. The people who held me
and whispered promises they couldn't keep
as the light of youth went out for good.
6. The tainted year that began my
downward spiral onto leathery couches
and empty words full of fake feelings.
7. The days it took me to realize
that my shadow was consuming me
and leading me down the loneliest path
to battle my own darkness.
8. The years that have passed by
using each waking moment
as a reminder of all that you could have been.
9. The grade that I let all my thoughts
and regrets flow through lead tips
and trembling fingers so I could feel some sort of peace.
10. The seconds it takes for me
to regain control of my own demons
when your name falls from unworthy lips.
11. The age when you decided
that life wasn't worth living and
that I wasn't enough to keep you hanging on.
Strength
Unclench your fists
and let me kiss
the crescent moon scars
your nails have left behind.
Hasn't anyone ever
told you they aren't
worth the effort?
No need to get mad
over petty words for
they are just pebbles
against the might
of a castle.
Fading stars that can't even
compare to the Moon.
Look me in the eyes
and tell me why you
should worry.
We know what we are worth.
We know what we can do.
Together we are strong
and nothing they can
say will ever make you
anything short of
breathtaking.
I Was Not Made
These hands weren't made
for these terrible deeds
that make my heart
burst in my chest.
These feet weren't made
for the miles they run
trying to escape the
nightmares that chase me.
My hands were made
to hold the sky
as I drown in stardust
among the graves of galaxies.
My feet were made
to race the wind
until I reach the place
the sunrise meets the Earth.
I was not born
for the cruel nature
of man.
I only exist to save myself.
Lungs
You managed to take
the breath right from my chest.
As if you stole my desire to live.
My lungs forgot how to inflate
when you weren't there
to guide my veins and
beat out the steady rhythm
that made my life.
So this is drowning.
This is gasping for air.
This is sucking in the tiny
pieces scattered in the aftermath.
But you never really forget
how to inhale, you only wish
you could. Because the oxygen
makes me dizzy with memories.
In.
Freckles smattered on cheekbones.
Out.
A smile that wasn't for me.
In.
Hands caressing spines.
Out.
Greedy bruises along my thighs.
In.
The first words you spoke.
Out.
The silence you used to say goodbye.
It's funny how the things that keep
you alive, make you wish they didn't.