what never was, will never be.
fingers like vines, helplessly reaching for
a peace stronger than death
a smile longer than love
what everyone wants, what no one needs...
will never be.
a flash of white, snow, grinning grim
you are foolish, you were my hope
you and i were summer...
fall came too soon, it fell into my sighs.
what almost was, will never be.
what i thought was you, it was me.
what is mine? what is yours?
i can't seem to make this real... and it never will be.
holding onto cold stares, the warmest thing i can find.
holding onto blank stares.
please don't say no.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Unnamed 2
Feb. 24, 2008 10:32 pm
why did i ever smile and lean in for the kill?
was i that blind?
was i that naive?
you blamed every glance, glare, and gloat to blame myself.
strategic suicide, that's all you'll ever be.
i thought i had you with me, but your mind was on darker thoughts.
so what can i say? and they drag you away...
i'm sorry, but i think the exucutioner is right.
i could shed my tears or hide my smiles...
but then i'd be thinking of you.
why did i ever smile and lean in for the kill?
was i that blind?
was i that naive?
you blamed every glance, glare, and gloat to blame myself.
strategic suicide, that's all you'll ever be.
i thought i had you with me, but your mind was on darker thoughts.
so what can i say? and they drag you away...
i'm sorry, but i think the exucutioner is right.
i could shed my tears or hide my smiles...
but then i'd be thinking of you.
Statistics That Will Change Your Death
February 11, 2008
I noticed the gradual slipping away
into the night; i am more aware than you ever will be aware of.
i remember a whisper in my bleeding eyes:
"i lie because you can't handle the truth."
no, i can't handle the lies.
everything was golden for a bit, then quickly fades to livid grey.
the bitter aftertaste of poetic posion in my heart.
even as you're not here, i see you,
so close but too far away.
if i try a little harder, if i cry a little more, maybe you'll come back.
if i soil your good soul with my tears and droplets of silver revenge, will you come back to me?
but desperation is death, separation is life.
tainted by bruising love, i didn't see...
i was better off without you.
but can i just let go like that?
can i change from a broken "kid that didn't make it" to another shocking statistic?
can i let them hook me up to machines and let them store into my mind, but they will never touch my heart?
i am not a statistic.
i am not a lost lover.
i am not your sweet revenge.
incoherent and oh-so-profound to hide the scars.
too young, too forsaken, too claimed.
they'll all bow their heads in sugar-coated, fake sorrow, to please the mourning parents.
they'll touch my cold, dead skin and whisper a goodbye, but i hear not what comes from their mouth.
i hear the words i crave and fear.
the ones that show they cared too much to not come, but not enough to be sincere.
they'll cry their tears though they feel no regret.
"what a shame."
"such a beautiful girl."
they will mutter to their eternally healthy spouses and children, as if death is a mistake i've made.
they're right.
i am a shame, but i'm not beautiful.
i was only beautiful once, under the warm glow of love.
but someone sits in the back of the pews, far backed by shadows.
they do not cry.
they do not speak.
they do not go to my coffin.
it is a boy. his face holds the still grace of familiarity, but when i come to grasp his name, my mind chases it farther back.
as first i feel outraged.
why would he come to my funeral, and not as much shed a tear?
i study his face with the parochial eyes of suspicion.
then he breathes a word.
no, two.
i know what i am wanting to hear is tainting the truth, but i again struggle to listen.
come.
back.
then i remember who he is. the one who caused this.
"is this not what you've wanted?" i ask of him... increduosly.
"never" he speaks softly, as if his words are causing a drift between us.
"never?" i begin. "then what were the lies and the pain? were they to make me happier, that you hated me so much as to lead me down to Hells gates? you knew..."
he closed his eyes and took a painful step forward.
then he repeated never. and returned to his pew.
stunned, i remember all of it.
the medications the machines the tubes the wires the "worried" nurses.
i was wrong.
i am just another statistic for some scared, hearthbroken teenager to read about.
but i had forgotten the missing edge.
what if i had mistaken lies for the truth, which seemed too good to be true?
and i had.
so it's not his fault i will never be with him again.
that i will never hold his hand, or calm his fears, or walk beside him again.
that he will go though the rest of his years, knowing i will never feel summer's breeze of winter's darkness or fall's new beginnings again.
and all that time, he will lose hour of sleep and nightmares, thinking it's his fault.
when it had been mine all along.
now i can only sigh and think about that missing edge...
I noticed the gradual slipping away
into the night; i am more aware than you ever will be aware of.
i remember a whisper in my bleeding eyes:
"i lie because you can't handle the truth."
no, i can't handle the lies.
everything was golden for a bit, then quickly fades to livid grey.
the bitter aftertaste of poetic posion in my heart.
even as you're not here, i see you,
so close but too far away.
if i try a little harder, if i cry a little more, maybe you'll come back.
if i soil your good soul with my tears and droplets of silver revenge, will you come back to me?
but desperation is death, separation is life.
tainted by bruising love, i didn't see...
i was better off without you.
but can i just let go like that?
can i change from a broken "kid that didn't make it" to another shocking statistic?
can i let them hook me up to machines and let them store into my mind, but they will never touch my heart?
i am not a statistic.
i am not a lost lover.
i am not your sweet revenge.
incoherent and oh-so-profound to hide the scars.
too young, too forsaken, too claimed.
they'll all bow their heads in sugar-coated, fake sorrow, to please the mourning parents.
they'll touch my cold, dead skin and whisper a goodbye, but i hear not what comes from their mouth.
i hear the words i crave and fear.
the ones that show they cared too much to not come, but not enough to be sincere.
they'll cry their tears though they feel no regret.
"what a shame."
"such a beautiful girl."
they will mutter to their eternally healthy spouses and children, as if death is a mistake i've made.
they're right.
i am a shame, but i'm not beautiful.
i was only beautiful once, under the warm glow of love.
but someone sits in the back of the pews, far backed by shadows.
they do not cry.
they do not speak.
they do not go to my coffin.
it is a boy. his face holds the still grace of familiarity, but when i come to grasp his name, my mind chases it farther back.
as first i feel outraged.
why would he come to my funeral, and not as much shed a tear?
i study his face with the parochial eyes of suspicion.
then he breathes a word.
no, two.
i know what i am wanting to hear is tainting the truth, but i again struggle to listen.
come.
back.
then i remember who he is. the one who caused this.
"is this not what you've wanted?" i ask of him... increduosly.
"never" he speaks softly, as if his words are causing a drift between us.
"never?" i begin. "then what were the lies and the pain? were they to make me happier, that you hated me so much as to lead me down to Hells gates? you knew..."
he closed his eyes and took a painful step forward.
then he repeated never. and returned to his pew.
stunned, i remember all of it.
the medications the machines the tubes the wires the "worried" nurses.
i was wrong.
i am just another statistic for some scared, hearthbroken teenager to read about.
but i had forgotten the missing edge.
what if i had mistaken lies for the truth, which seemed too good to be true?
and i had.
so it's not his fault i will never be with him again.
that i will never hold his hand, or calm his fears, or walk beside him again.
that he will go though the rest of his years, knowing i will never feel summer's breeze of winter's darkness or fall's new beginnings again.
and all that time, he will lose hour of sleep and nightmares, thinking it's his fault.
when it had been mine all along.
now i can only sigh and think about that missing edge...
Who I Am
January 27, 2008
I'm the worst and best friend you'll (n)ever have.
I'll tell your secrets, but only to those you mistrust.
I'll keep them from the trusted.
I'll mix and dissect and reword things until it's all the same.
I'll cleear things up, but only when you cry blood for me.
I'll hold your hand after I've broke your heart.
I'll convince you I'm here when I really never was.
I'll hurt you when you're broken, only because it numbs you.
I am here.. but i'm not with you.
I'm the nothingness that fills your emptied soul.
I'm what you'd never thought was there.
I'm what's left, and you don't want me.
I'm what's meant for you, but I was born to bury your throat until you choke.
Who I am. Who am I?
I'm you.
I'm the worst and best friend you'll (n)ever have.
I'll tell your secrets, but only to those you mistrust.
I'll keep them from the trusted.
I'll mix and dissect and reword things until it's all the same.
I'll cleear things up, but only when you cry blood for me.
I'll hold your hand after I've broke your heart.
I'll convince you I'm here when I really never was.
I'll hurt you when you're broken, only because it numbs you.
I am here.. but i'm not with you.
I'm the nothingness that fills your emptied soul.
I'm what you'd never thought was there.
I'm what's left, and you don't want me.
I'm what's meant for you, but I was born to bury your throat until you choke.
Who I am. Who am I?
I'm you.
Unnamed 1
January 13, 2007 11:26 pm
I can pretend like it's okay
and spare myself a tear.
I can pretend like i'm loved
and... then what?
No, no one loves me.
I'm asking for a bleeding heart.
stab me until i'm gone.
please... if you leave, who will break me?
and who will save me?
no one.
who will hate me, love me, keep me safe yet kill me?
I will.
and you wil stand there and smile.
I can pretend like it's okay
and spare myself a tear.
I can pretend like i'm loved
and... then what?
No, no one loves me.
I'm asking for a bleeding heart.
stab me until i'm gone.
please... if you leave, who will break me?
and who will save me?
no one.
who will hate me, love me, keep me safe yet kill me?
I will.
and you wil stand there and smile.
i'll promise us one thing.
that i'm going to write down all my poems, no matter how stupid or unture they are.
uhm... enjoy?
uhm... enjoy?
Thursday, April 9, 2009
On Trying and Failing
and there comes a fine line between exhaustion and i-could-care-less.
i'm not at the not caring side, yet, love.
don't get me wrong.
i'm just exhausted.
it's as if every conversation would end with me breathless...
so breathless, and such a waste.
do you remember when you came to me for advice?
that first.. oh when was it? summer?
so far away back... seems like forever, no?
well, you came to me for my opinion.
and i gave it to you. i did. i tried so hard.
maybe i'm just missing something here... am i?
am i just not understanding what goes on in your mind?
or are we really that different, now?
and you, love. i'm so sorry.
it takes times like these to udnerstand what you meant.
when i broke down? and when i wasn't afraid to show you what i'm like when i'm not me.
you were there. and you told me how you felt and i listened.
and at the time, i didn't understand...
now i completely do.
i'm so sorry.
so sorry.
we are all human... being human sucks sometimes, doesnt it, love?
but i need to learn to listen to you...
before i move a notch up on the hypocrite scale, yes?
but isn't it odd? to think all of the things we must practice to be good:
kindness, good listening, selflessness, etc.
it doesn't seem so hard written down on paper.
but then when you try to balance human emotion against those, guess which wins?
can no one see it? that i do try...
i try so hard... maybe the attempts go all the way from my heart up to my mind and they stop there.
is that it? is that what you see? nothing?
because so many times i've contradicted my own emotion to help someone.
it's hard, it is. but i've tried.
i'm not going to go on some self-admarating speech about how good i am.
i'm not.
i try and try and try and get no where.
so i'll try and try until the end of time, until my attempts can touch someone's life.
and if they don't?
i will at least be able to say i gave it my best shot, but missed.
so i guess it's time to say:
"good bye, opinions."
and toss away the key.
i'm not at the not caring side, yet, love.
don't get me wrong.
i'm just exhausted.
it's as if every conversation would end with me breathless...
so breathless, and such a waste.
do you remember when you came to me for advice?
that first.. oh when was it? summer?
so far away back... seems like forever, no?
well, you came to me for my opinion.
and i gave it to you. i did. i tried so hard.
maybe i'm just missing something here... am i?
am i just not understanding what goes on in your mind?
or are we really that different, now?
and you, love. i'm so sorry.
it takes times like these to udnerstand what you meant.
when i broke down? and when i wasn't afraid to show you what i'm like when i'm not me.
you were there. and you told me how you felt and i listened.
and at the time, i didn't understand...
now i completely do.
i'm so sorry.
so sorry.
we are all human... being human sucks sometimes, doesnt it, love?
but i need to learn to listen to you...
before i move a notch up on the hypocrite scale, yes?
but isn't it odd? to think all of the things we must practice to be good:
kindness, good listening, selflessness, etc.
it doesn't seem so hard written down on paper.
but then when you try to balance human emotion against those, guess which wins?
can no one see it? that i do try...
i try so hard... maybe the attempts go all the way from my heart up to my mind and they stop there.
is that it? is that what you see? nothing?
because so many times i've contradicted my own emotion to help someone.
it's hard, it is. but i've tried.
i'm not going to go on some self-admarating speech about how good i am.
i'm not.
i try and try and try and get no where.
so i'll try and try until the end of time, until my attempts can touch someone's life.
and if they don't?
i will at least be able to say i gave it my best shot, but missed.
so i guess it's time to say:
"good bye, opinions."
and toss away the key.
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