why i’ll always be haunted
too many hands, touching all the wrong spots. too much pressure, in places that never asked to be stained with dirty fingerprints and filthy mouths.
nights i woke up blindfolded. nights i woke up deaf. nights i woke up screaming. nights i woke up dead. nights i never slept.
the way the refrigerator felt pressed up against my back. anorexic-spine refusing to bend and break. chin up, tears checked. the way that the solid object gave false confidence. the way my bones still cracked.
the wedding ring in the grass.
tubes & wires
small lungs failing. because babies don’t belong here this early. but trauma has a way of bringing out the best of us.
tubes & wires
“you can’t hold him.”
“please give me back my baby?”
“you have nerve damage.”
“give me my baby back!”
“someone put her back to sleep.”
distance and space and sirens and screams. and how all of those words just feel like the word abandoned. and how everyone always leaves.
all these fucking metaphors.
my wrists tied to his knuckles. and how he hangs around my neck. and how he hangs around my thoughts. and how he gets hung up in my throat. and how my eyes feel hung out to dry.
the way the mirror explodes when it sees my face. how two of my fingers fit so perfectly at the back of my mouth. how i reach for the devil and up comes the ache.
My Little Brother
I can say my first honest heartbreak was when I realized my little brother was an adult, but I discovered it in the worst way possible. My little brother had always been my best friend, confidant, and there was no one I trusted more in the world. I remember playing super heroes, video games, action figures, and strapping our sister's barbie dolls to the ceiling fan. I know his laugh in a crowded room. I know his stance from a mile away. We have a trick we play where we can get one another's attention by staring very focused on the other one. And then I got a call at 2 AM that he was in prison.
Within the span of one phone call, I learned that my little brother's marriage had been on the ropes for a long time. I had learned that he had been battling an addiction for years. I had learned that the little boy whose hand I would hold when I crossed the street and to this day still panic when I look behind me and don't see him, was an encarcerated criminal. At first, I blamed myself. Why didn't I ask if he had been having problems? Why didn't I see that he was struggling? Why didn't I, of all people, not see that he was going down the wrong path? When did I let go of his hand? When did he stop being my responsibility?
I watched as the world turned against him, spat on him, and he lost so many friends and family. And he just sat there and took it, knowing that he deserved every bit of their hate. I couldn't stop it! I couldn't stand in the way of the bullets being shot at him! I couldn't protect him from what these hateful people were saying! I had let go of my little brother's hand while crossing the street, and the cars were barrelling at him, but I wasn't able to reach him in time. I remember once when he tripped fell, breaking his nose. My heart had stopped and I screamed for help as I tried to stop the blood.
The little boy I held when he was so small was bleeding out now, and no matter how much I screamed for help or tried to defend him, I failed to save him. I wasn't and never will be angry at him for what he did. Hate can't live where love is the driving force. When I visited him, he didn't want to look at me, but I reached out to hold his hand like I used to. I told him, "I'm glad you're being so strong. I can see how much this is hurting you. I'm so proud of you, little bro, for being a man and taking responsibility." And we cried and held one another.
I little boy crying with a broken nose.
I man crying with a broken life.
But he is still my brother, my best friend, and my confidant. He's pulled his life together with the help of his wife, true friends and the family that helped him to heal. But he can stand tall now, because he decided to do the right thing. I'm so proud of him, and he will never know how much. My little brother became a man in the short span that I accidently let go of his hand then turned to look for him.
Pangs of Heartbreak
She squandered her love,
sprinkling and dripping
into swift river of dust,
swirling in a whirlpool
of sorrowful chants.
brushed her heart
lip synching the love
drowned in the sand
as high tides slurped
and swept her away.
Breath of her waves
listened to voices,
Thumbs of feelings
depressed in meters
of ticking time
impressing her palms
with tempests of sorrow.
swooshing of angst
murmurs and sighs,
eye lashed promises
filter loss into space.
Strands of skin
weep soft rain
of empty arms.
Crescendo of pain
beats like a drum,
heart cracks like egg -
a soundless void
Hurt of loneliness
moans and wails
in barren soil.
Prisms of hope
sound of no return.
I don’t understand it a lot of the time. One minute I’m fine and the next I’m just, not. It steals my motivation, my drive, my passion. It takes me away from my family and friends. Isolates me from everyone and everything. It drags my life through the mud and ruins anything good and right. All for what? What is benefiting from my misery? What did I do to warrant this? I just want it to stop. The only way I know how to describe it is that it hurts to exist. It hurts to live my own life. I feel like I’m not living anymore, like I’m just going through the motions of my everyday life, as a shell of my former self. So, if I haven’t been acting like myself lately, it’s because I’m not. I’m sorry.
Mirror of Mortality
Like feathers bristle untouched skin
Death cracks open wide, again
Wounds that well beyond heart’s brim
Tough now tender, stretched sheer-thin
Sadness beads on silvered glass
Fallen tears fill heaven’s flasks
Fragile lives reflect like brass
On golden ponds dyed ether-black
Veil of heaven, drawn, one side
Curtains closed with eyes shut wide
Sun sleeps in an endless night
Eclipse of mourning shades moonlight
Awakened by mortality
Midnight mirrors twilight seas
Dust and ash stare back and speak
Echoes of life’s brevity
In the midst of flesh and bone
Mist of ’morrows, yet unknown
Vapors of the vast bemoan
Body, spirit, soul - unsown
Wisp-white clouds combed by wind’s
Hands upon the face of time
Buoys on blue ocean’s rhyme
Bells of borrowed minutes’ chime
Pools of love leave saline stains
Viewed beneath the lens loss gains
Compassion clouds and mem’ries rain
Of loved ones buried ’neath the pain
Condensate obscures the view
Lost within the looking through
Window panes marked in bold hues
Alight the heart as strength renews
Stained glass lit as candles weep
Hope sails seas of murky-deep
Soothing waves of grief, replete
In unrest spirits longing peace
Days elapse to weeks and years
Loss exhumes the past and fears
Unstitching scars in mortal mirrors
Does time hem whole beneath dried tears?
Loved ones passed, bereft refrains
Reverberating fragile frames
Eternal dwells in hearts that pang
Cymbals’ chorus angels rang
Capture - soon spring winds will blow
Scattered seeds that sorrow sows
Tend them ’til love’s flowers grow
So Fall leaves Winter, white as snow
Sometimes I leave my palm prints on the glass.
I watch helplessly as a stranger controls my words and my movements while putting a stronghold on my emotions.
I bleed for lovers who would not bleed for me.
I cry for friends who would barely shed a tear for me.
I accept what someone else tells me to accept and keep quiet while my soul roars with offense.
I never dance and always sing alone in an empty room.
Even in the safety of my own head, I'm still the outsider looking in.
The Sun Won’t Rise
The sun didn't rise today.
A sunrise represents hope,
Shining a light on the darkness.
I didn't get that today.
I got a car ride,
Filled with yelling.
I got a stitch ripper,
Tearing violently at the seams,
Of my sanity.
I got sharp,
Shoved into the cracks,
Of my already-broken heart.
If the sun had risen,
Perhaps the glass,
Would have glittered.
Perhaps I would have been able,
To avoid it.
But it wasn't the first time.
I really should have expected it.
She didn't tell me a thing,
I didn't already know.
"No one wants you around," She said.
"No one wants to be around someone so mean."
"I know." I said.
"Don't you think I know that?"
She twists the glass,
Widening the cracks,
Sun getting lower,
Behind the horizon.
"Are you sure you know? Who told you? Because someone needs to."
"Leave me alone." I say,
Holding back the tears.
"Everyone would be better off without you. Every time I see you,
It ruins my mood, and my entire day, completely."
"Please, leave me alone."
Tears are froming,
As she rips out the glass,
Leaving me to bleed out.
"You always treat me like crap. You're the reason my life sucks."
I sob at her words,
The sun retreating further and further,
With each tear,
Because it is not meant to bear my pain.
"LEAVE ME ALONE!!!" I scream wildly.
"Can't you see this is a manipulative relationship?"I demand,
Through the ocean,
Pooling beneath my eyes.
"No, it's not. It's not my fault you get in my car, and are mean to me."
She goes on.
The car is filled with insults.
She removes another stitch,
Taking me apart.
She stabs me again,
With each new word she says.
"Leave me alone."
"Leave me alone."
"leave me alone."
Trailing off into silent tears,
My pain putting out,
The sky's great light.
The car stops at school,
And she is still going.
Tears still falling,
I get out,
Managing only a strong,
As I slam the door.
I walk to class,
My head down.
I don't want them to see my pain.
But they see it anyway.
She left the knife,
Resting in my heart.
My heart throbs,
Off and on,
All throughout the day.
The sun will not rise today.
At the Top of Every Bar
At the top of every bar lies the expensive whiskey. The heavy stuff. The hangover maker and heartbreak curer. You don't bring down that bottle to celebrate, you bring it down to grieve.
For the girl that never texted back.
For the friends you drifted from.
For the parents you lost.
For the dream you didn't achieve.
For the grandkids that forgot you.
This is the only job for that bottle of whiskey. Until then, it waits. For heartbreak will surely come again.
"Please don't go..."
I wish I heard those words out..
I did hear, but I never listened...
Why did I have to go to office, while everything else burned to ashes?
Fading into an endless coma, feeling empty and frequentative. Being acquisitive like any other.
Sad, just sad.
No special moments of joy. No moments to recollect and to put on you.
Infinite blank pages waiting for my mind to fulfill them.
And what am I doing?
Nothing. Being an everyday chap, working, training and studying so I can become… SHUSH!!!
To become what, an older version of you now. Grey hair and gossiping how your neighbor did that and this.
Stop it will ya?
Stop drifting and start living. Enjoy now. Future’s existence is nowhere.
You can come and cry to me darling.
My inner self will cry indeed.
You see darling, you're relaxed.
Perhaps I am.