i can’t without you

I’m laying here awake
Naked
Skin soft and supple
Lips wet
Fingers on your chest
Cheek against your shoulder
Ripe
Sweet
Open
And you’re checking your phone
For things that will never be
While I’m here next to you
Ready to be plucked from the stem
Heart racing
Heated
And pleading
But you
You’re too far gone
No matter how many nights you hold me
Beg me not to go
Smooth my hair over my shoulders
Kiss my forehead
Placate my whimpering trembling body
You’re never you
Not anymore
You’re just a shell
Hunched over your phone
Next to the
Sweetest fruit you’d ever eat
Escaping to the things that bitterness is made of
Just to pretend to feel whole again
Like you never will
Without me. 

miracles

I’m standing here
bathed in the light from the hallway
still waiting for you to come back
to say thank you
to love me again like you used to
but deep down I know you’re never coming back
because you’re angry and I’m angry too
because I hate you and you hate me too
because there’s nothing we could’ve done
but just waited for each other
and you’ve moved on
but I’m still stuck here
like a ghost
loving you
and you’re out there searching for other things
and still missing the point
of someone so devoted they would stand here
door open, hands at their sides
waiting for a miracle
but maybe miracles don’t exist
outside of fairy tales. 

convenience

Enveloped in your arms
cheek pressed to the soft flesh of your chest
listening to your words come softly
the words that tell me
“this isn’t love”
then what is it?
What are these caresses
declarations
sexual encounters
“convenience”?
And I’m used up
bitter and cut off from the world
because I love you more than anything
because I dared to love someone like you
more than life itself
and my reward
is forever remembering you 

5 years in 5 months

She awoke with a fragile heart, lashes fluttering in the darkness, bleary and still sleep-eyed.  Her chest felt hollow, broken, and fragile in so many ways.  Her tongue dry, throat raw, eyes burning with the sting of so many tears.  She slid out of the bed, placing her feet on the hardwood floor, swaying some before catching her balance.

Her body felt heavy, as if she were covered with a lead apron as she walked to her bedroom door.  Everything around her seemed to move slowly and almost backward.  If only time really could move backwards.

Her heart throbbed in her chest, broken.  A constant reminder of the night’s events.  A reminder that she would rather be dead then opening her bedroom door and heading to the bathroom to begin her normal morning routine.  Nothing felt normal anymore.  It all felt as if it were upside down, as if she were walking on the ceiling, weighted to it by agony and despair.

She opened the shower curtain, turning the water on and trying to ignore the burning, aching feeling in her chest.  She had so much to do today, so many things that she didn’t even want to start.  Work, school, volunteer work, meetings, friends…friends.  Her heart ached in her chest and tears sprung in her eyes.  She clutched at the fabric of her shirt and whimpered.

Friends.  The word played in her head as a harsh whisper, over and over again.  Her heart pounded and bile rose up in her throat, constricting, choking.

Five months had passed.  Five whole months and she still held onto the idea, the fantasy, the lies he fed her.  Since June she had thought they were still in love.  Truly, madly, deeply because that was how he lead her.  But by September she knew that love wasn’t real.  Five years of love still inhabited her heart, pouring out in beautiful words and promises that he ignored.

Yet, he still lied to her until September.  He still used her, manipulated her into being so broken she went to someone unlikely for comfort, companionship, friendship.  And she found it in one night of desperation.  A 41 minute phone call full of tears and hiccups and apologies.

But she still loved him, without conditions and freely.  His lies, manipulations, and broken promises didn’t change what was in her heart as much as she needed it to.  How could she possibly love someone who lied, cheated and left her broken in so many different ways.  Apparently, just to make her happy and keep her begging, loneliness and childishness at bay.  Hidden behind his comfort and humanity.

“I was just doing you a favor,” he whispers, so harsh he’s almost spitting it, “I don’t love you.”

And she falls again, cutting deep and broken standing beneath the hot water of she shower.  She tries to shake the feeling, rising in her stomach, her chest, from her lips, but it escapes in five damned words.

“I will always love you.”

Nonsense

This isn’t technically a poem, but it’s close to it.

It was a simple task on record, but off it was easily the hardest thing she could ever hope to accomplish.  

In his arms, things were safe, warm, delicate but on the outside of his embrace she was finding life hard to cope with.  On the outside there were no gentle kisses to her lips, cheek and forehead to reassure her of her safety.  There was no strong arms to hold her up from hitting rock bottom.  And there was certainly no peaceful slumber.

She could argue that he didn’t understand what he did to her.  She could almost be certain that he didn’t know of the delicate emotions that erupted with every twitch of his fingers and every flutter of his eyelashes against her cheek.  And, of course, she knew without a doubt that he didn’t know about the sensations she felt when he pressed his bare flesh against hers, or nuzzled her neck.

In fact, she wasn’t even quite sure herself.  The only word previously used to describe these intense emotions was “butterflies”.  The word seemed so broad now.  The butterflies referred to a feeling in your chest or stomach, not a feeling that washed over your skin in waves, making you feel warm, safe and wanted.

Outside of his arms was where she currently resided, head resting on her knees, eyes staring sideways at the blue wall in her darkened room.  One hour being both the exact amount of time he had been gone and the exact amount of time she slept the previous evening (or morning, but who’s counting).  

She was tired, her mind ceased making sense and she still tingled from the whisper of his touch (strong arms previously wrapped around her).  Her body ached to both be with him and to drift off into a peaceful slumber, where her memories of those few beautiful (however, fleeting) moments they shared earlier in the day would be on repeat (and not drenched in blue around the edges).

Alas, neither ache would subside as neither want would come true.

Peace was written on the walls, on her sheets, on her blanket, on her clothes, but never in her mind.  Slumber was painted where it was able to be seen, but not to be acted out.  Love was at the fore front of her mind, body still holding sweet whispers of caresses.  

Dear Mr. Sandman,
the slumber never calms
the waking beast
changing their heart
to let someone in

but perhaps, it’s misery.

Fools Who Rush In, Burn Out

This is an introspection, my own personal thoughts of where I am right now, a diary entry if you will.

I hate the way I feel right now, so close yet so out of reach.  I feel like I’m not changing, not making with the “new”.  I still want the same things, I’m still striving for the same things, I’m still stuck.  I feel like I’m stuck, sinking in mud.  I’m not really worth anything, am I?

I keep telling myself things like that.  Things like, I’m never gonna be anyone, but it really isn’t true.  I can be anything.  Yes, I am confirming that the thing everyone’s mother told them when they were younger is absolutely 100% true.  We can still be anything we want to be. 

I want to say something about being broken hearted and feeling alone, but I’m reminded that I don’t honestly feel alone…just…confused.  I know what I want in the long run, but in the now…I’m struggling to keep it together.  It’s strange after a year to be single again, but I honestly don’t feel single.  I feel the same, but I feel like a certain other person might be breaking off, branching out…and I’m still holding on.  

I’m always holding on, why can’t I just let go?  If I don’t learn how to let go of the important things, if I don’t learn how to just let it work itself out…then how will I ever function in society?  I already know the outcome, I already know that this will get better.  I already know I wont give up.  

And like a certain someone told me: “I’m not going anywhere”…you really aren’t are you?  You’ll stay the same in this even if I feel like you’re zooming lightyears ahead of me and starting your brand new life…without me…while I’m still stuck here.

But this is it right?  I’ve got to learn to stand on my own!  I have to know I can do this without you, without my family, without anyone but God to hold me up.  You’ve got to know it too, don’t you?  You need to know this too.  We have to stand alone before we can stand together, don’t we?

I’m amused, this whole introspection ended up being a letter to you about how I feel about us.  I still love you, y’know.  I promised you…a long time ago that I’d never stop.  But…in a way, I’m glad that this is over.  I don’t want all the pressure and the fights and the pain.  It’s not like I’m losing you 100% is it?  No, we’ll always be friends.  That’s one thing I’ve learned.  That I can’t really ever exist without you.  You’re my heart.  

I was told, by my mother once that…in life, you really only make two really good friends.  The first one is God and the second one is the man you fall in love with.  

I don’t feel like I’m losing you, I just feel like I’m losing the “us” we used to be.  That old, broken, depressed, trustless version of us.  The paranoid, jealous, unhappy version of us.  The one where accusations and assumptions defined it.  It obviously wan’t based on the friendship we claimed to have before we were together.

But after all this…I can understand now.

You were right, you know…

We did rush into it.