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.
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
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
I look for the passion that rolls inside
Those substance induced
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
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
I am still in love with you.
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.
It’s always you
Coming back in without permission
Invading my mind
You try to fuck me like the old days
And tell me i am overreacting
I watch you turn away
This time her name is rachel
But i see her as a mirror
A compact i used to own
And i break her
In that porcelain bowl over and over
Then steal her and her money
And were trapped in cars
Where i still can’t find mine
Shitting bags of vegetables
And ripping my skin off
Raw pieces i can not hide
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.
What am I?
A mass of memories
Firing between cells
Billions of rows of suffering
And multiplying by the wayside
What am I?
A cold person
Walking through the hallway
Down the street
Another face to pass
What am I?
They called me a woman
Still I took off my shirt
They said the streets are for men
And that I would get hurt
What am I?
A soul wandering
There is no home for those
That can not find comfort
And I know you will run from me…
What am I?
A five year plan
Or a family
These are the things you will be remembered by
Not by the quiet firefly
Or by the blades of grass you felt between your toes
Not the wind in your face
On the playground
Or in the field on your own
The sun will be the only one to remember your face
The billions of passerbys
Just stopping to say hello
The things you did to me are unspeakable; truly, the words catch in my throat and I choke on your memory.