Death · Depression · I Miss You · Melancholy · Poetry · Pondering · Reflection · TW:Suicide

Letter to Myself

Me,

You can’t love someone enough.

You can’t love someone into sobriety.

You can’t love someone out of their pain.

And you certainly can not love someone out of killing themselves.

If it were possible this world would be a very different place.

The world would be filled joyous mothers as opposed to grieving ones and the rest of us would have our loved one by our side.

There is not enough love to save someone, you have got to remember that.

You can not martyr yourself attempting to save someone else, although you tried.

You didn’t make it out unscathed.

You branded this person on your heart.

Your soul will never be the same. 

Death · Depression · Free Write · Melancholy · Sadness · Writing

So Much So

So much so.

I’m broken in 12 different ways.

A million pieces of you.

You used to tell me,

“I won’t live to see 40.”

I laughed because I didn’t want it to be true.

I thought we would walk together into

our 60’s, our 80’s.

The memories of drunken nights

And wishing to die would fade into our past.

We were punk rock kids.

Misfits and the downtrodden.

We were too broken for this world and too crazy together.

That’s what happens to unrecognized lovers.

Black as night, our pain becomes our number.

Yours was called and I wanted mine sooner.

I don’t want to live in a world without you.

I mourned you once.

Mourned you two times.

I will mourn you everyday for the rest of my life.

Creative Writing · Depression · Free Write · I Miss You · Melancholy · Poetry · Pondering · Writing

Free Write

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I considered calling you

I thought about all of the things you could say to me

To make me feel guilty enough

Into loving you again


I sat on a couch with another

All of the windows peering

Between him and I

Arms folded

I wanted to reach for your hand

But thought better of it

Remembered what you said about affection


I miss how you would hold my face

And smile so sweet and slyly

I recalled that feeling

Outloud and along the thorns

I bleed for you


Everyday

I look for the passion that rolls inside

Those substance induced

Moments

Of you fucking me over and over again

Until tears ran down my thighs

The wetness of your cheeks

A handful of hair


I can not seem to find this in anyone

Drunk strangers with their hands all over

They touch the small of my back

And I get glimpses

Of all the terrible things they would do to me

Like you


Flags waving through the icy crystals around the temple

Lights glitter among the horizon

I don’t know what they want

Or why you still call for me

Why the rains

Keep on pouring


I turn off my phone

I go on running

Broken Up · Creative Writing · Depression · Healing · I Miss You · Melancholy · Personal · Poetry · Sadness · Writing

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I am still in love with you.

Most days.

Even when I hate you and I know we are no good for each other.

I go only short amounts of time before you pass through my thoughts again.

My heart breaks every time I read your words.

I want to write back.

I would send you a thousand lines of the love I have for you… but I know your time is fleeting.

And I spend countless days in recovery.

I want to see you and hold your hand.

I want to walk in the rain and shoot shotguns at the night sky wearing nothing but the bad attitude that clings to people like me and you.

But I know I can not have my heart broken again and I can’t help but think you may be my broken heart.

I have you always.

Pulsating in the cavern of my chest.

I have felt you a thousand years and back.

Do you feel me too?

I have always wondered.

Am I a play thing, a fantasy, a destiny?

I cry out at night.

I wake up and you are still not beside me.

My heart lingers of that place where maybe you once love me.

I walk away from you, a trail of crumbs to my heart.

Creative Writing · Melancholy · Personal · Poetry · Reflection · Relationships · Writing

Two Years

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I could talk about how on this day two years ago you broke me. How a piece of me was cut out, burned and brushed away.


I could recollect on leaning on that raw wooden post, a cigarette in hand but I won’t.


I will not talk about how you left me at my most vulnerable moment. Or how I yearned for any morsel of your affection to be told, “I never loved you.”


Seven years and a thousand lifetimes passed as you lived with the one you did not love.


Still, we will not remember such things.


Even on tonight when I sung along to the music that defined us, you and I. How we ran on punk rock, drunken nights, and playing lovebirds in the desert. The music and the wind runs through it.


This dead salty memory.


No, today I will recall how these things did not and could not defeat me.


How the darkness of one defining moment could not stop the sun’s rising.


Two years and I run from you like the horse in that field. The grass below my feet and the future a bold blue sky.


And even on tonight when I vow not to speak of you, I can not help but miss your presence. In the dark desert sands the music plays on.


Without you. 

Melancholy · Pondering · Prose · Writing

Thoughts…

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Lately I’ve been feeling really down and I have been trying to figure out why. What I have realized is that no matter how hard I try I am not fucking normal. And it’s really hard for me to live in the world and do things the way I am supposed to do. The 9-5 thing isn’t really for me and I never last long when I try to make it so. I don’t know if I will ever be able to function in that sort of life.  I don’t really party and I don’t have kids and it seems like I am supposed to fit on either end of that spectrum. But I don’t. I don’t go to church and I really don’t want to. I’m not running marathons or hiking every weekend. Wtf is there for a misfit like me? Sometimes I feel really lonely and I consider having a relationship again but I go back to one of the above categories. It’s about kids or church or alcohol or athletics. Is there anyone out that that will love me when I don’t want any of those things? I’m starting to think that in Utah there isn’t.  I’ve got to be into one of those 4 things to be attractive to someone local. Perhaps I need to leave. I really don’t know…. I am into thinking. Philosophy and science. Meeting and helping people. Looking at the stars in the middle of the night and thinking about how we all came from space. Imagining other worlds and playing fantasy scenarios. I like making up an ideal world even though I know it will never exist. I want to see the world and serve on medical missions. I want to build my own self sustaining home and fill it with art and have cats and dogs and llamas and chickens for fresh eggs. I want someone to do these things with but I do not think there is anyone for me. So maybe I will build my own home and explore the world by myself. And love animals and people and give when and where I can. I just know I need and want so much more than this everyday existence. My life is more than clocking in and out. I do not and refuse to ever fit this role.