27 or 28 Days From The New Year
Good thing I have one of these left from December 4th.
Tomorrow is December 5th- the day I've been anticipating and dreading. Excited for what I'll do but also scared of what will be done.
I should make plans to keep myself busy tomorrow and going through this life.
It's like I wanna live but I don't have:
The motivation.
The energy.
The need.
The want.
The gift.
I feel so worth it but also so worthless.
I feel like no one really cares that much.
I want to do it just to see if anyone would actually care.
I don't really feel like I deserve to live.
I just don't want to be a disappointment.
Wait, I already am.
I don't want to make myself worse.
I'm afraid I'll make myself worse.
Natural Colors
Lethargic gray skies yawn when it snows
Pale white sparkles blink when the sun shows
Angry red exhaustion stretches into bloodshot eyes
Small sighs of blue serenity at cloudless, virgin skies
Poison envy abandons you in a forest of green
Indigo veins show purpose in a life already seen
Pink tips at the ends of fingers grab recklessly, ambitiously
Yellow teeth chew happiness and grin shamelessly, capriciously
Every color of the rainbow is in our world and in our bodies
We all bleed the same when our nature and our nurture is the same
Soldier’s Death
Oh. It's you. The wife and kids told me I'd meet my death if I went and here you are! Well, how did I do it? Did my head eat a bullet on the battlefield? Was I taken prisoner and tortured for answers I didn't have? Did I die honorably? Whatever, that's not important. Just... do me one favor- give my wife a sign. Show her where I hid my savings. It's buried in my dad's grave. Don't let my children go through misery just because I had to seek it out. Thank you.
I'm exhausted, let's get this done.
The Four I Know Better than One
I moved two years ago
My walls haven't heard much
I only own four walls-
The four walls teenage girls know better than themselves.
There's one brick wall
The wall facing you
When you walk into my bedroom
Some of the bricks look like they've been picked out
A different color cement is around
And between them
Where they've returned.
I think that's where they put the ears
Who are they?
Only they know
My walls, the ears, don't hear much,
Much different,
From any other teenager's
Four bedroom walls
The walls hear groans
What else does a teenager do best?
Groans from too much time done useless
Too much life taken away
The walls hear moans
From glimpses towards happiness,
Like spottings of unicorns, sun showers, dewy grass in Arizona.
From heart warming to wrenching puppy love and self-discovery
The walls hear sounds of crying
Huffing, puffing
Heaving, wheezing.
Cursing the cursed, demanding silver to line atop this dreary gray cloud
Slamming doors on the empathetic.
The walls hear scratching
A giddy pencil scuffling along paper
A paint brush grazing across canvas
Itching with a fresh start of ideas
The walls hear tapping
Scanning, typing, clicking at my phone
Alive on just a screen for hours
Ticking my time away
The walls hear voices
Conversations- any of all varieties
Forced, heartfelt, reiterated, unique, lies, truth
Talking myself into or out of things
The walls hear life
In its most restless sleep
Waking to the rest of the world's opportunities,
Everything past this gray cloud of nightmares
The walls hear life and living
Music- any of all varieties
Dancing, stamping, stomping on my floor to the beat
Screaming, harmonizing, singing the lyrics
Blood shouting in my veins
As I let myself loose
To some of the only things
That unravel my tight, tight, hold-it-together knots
Those ears hear all my sorrows
Every single harrow in the book of my life
Those walls also see me in my happiest chapters
Everything happens inside those few walls that are completely mine
What happens in those walls, before those ears
Tears me apart into red dust
Or builds up me into the tallest chimney
As I smoke with relief at the top of the world.
I moved into these walls only two years ago
A lot happens in two years
Who knew?
The ears. The ears put in my walls.