Stranger

I wish I had cracked myself open for someone else

Love is an invitation to see the depths of someone you care for

He wasn’t suppose to leave me hollow

He buried his words so deep as if I was given in a casket

Stone marked “Here lies someone who loved the wrong person too much”

Your body was a language I was fluent in

But you didn’t bother learning a word of mine

The best revenge is said to be living well without

But I also want the best for you

You spoke a honey I drank from your collarbones

Leaving love notes hidden on your neck

I knew when you folded yourself away from me

Capturing those green eyes and tousled blond hair of yours

To be filed away as the last moment before we became strangers again

Control

We have 79 mutual friends on Facebook

He wiped away everything I had recovered

He didn’t want me to keep any of those 79 friends

I wasn’t worthy enough for anyone but him

I was told to get a restraining order because two unstable people cannot make a stable relationship

One always ends up damaged

I am seen as damaged goods no one cares to repair

No one listens to my cries because emotional trauma isn’t real

When someone tells you they would die without you, you take it as a compliment

Until they turn it into knives when you try to escape

There was no provocation

There was no “what did she do to deserve it?”

Violence is all about control

He wanted control

He gets it on the nights I stay shaking at the thought of getting close to someone again

I know anyone can do what he did to me

Memories I wish I could drown play out on a movie screen

Just let me rest

I need to stop thinking about the toxins you fed me

Chaining me to you in a way you can forget all this and I just can’t


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The Feeling

There are colors we don’t know about

Places we can’t describe yet

But we’re more focused on whom others spend their lives with

Getting tangled up in stories over coffee

Falling more for the smile that crosses when she recount memories I haven’t heard yet

Surprising her with lilies I know are her favorite

The warmth I feel when I look at her could describe the colors we don’t know

She’s home to me

Musing about the hues living in her hair

The hues of  love she makes me feel

But people are more concerned about the lack of a man in the picture

Than the happiness I feel with her

Having us shrouded in darkness with men because loving each other is “unnatural”

I still give her lilies to tell her I remember

She has me feeling like the places we don’t have the language to describe

People are still concerned it’s “her” rather than “him”

An Open Letter to Suicide

Dear Suicide,

You almost stole my best friend before I could even call her that

You almost whisked me away before she could call me that

I know I have written about you behind your back for years

But how can you forget when thoughts of you struck so young

I spent my entire adolescence planning how we would meet

We broke up so long ago

Tell me how I fall asleep some nights still thinking of you

My family tortured with watching me carve pictures of you in my skin

Watching me kill myself over and over again in my dreams

Maybe sometimes they wish you took me along

But imaging my best friend stripped away from me by your hand

Puts me in greater pain than living with you camped out in the back of my mind

I beg of you never steal her away

Take me, but oh god not her

She will do so much more than I ever could

All I have is melancholy and a pen

My bones are a river you float yourself back into

You’re just scratches upon a map rather than places and faces I will visit one day

Please just let me live without you whispering promises in my ear

I know I’m just bad timing

Leave with the back door open so something better can wander in

Suicide wasn’t in my vocabulary until I was admitted to a psychiatric hospital at 14 under suicidal ideation

All I could feel was a severe empty nothingness

Spiraling in and out of a reality no one wanted

With addictions no 14 year old should know about outside of health class

If I don’t keep my hands busy I fade away into a world no one exists but myself

I doodle, write, crochet just to keep myself here

Suicide was once a part of me I knew would snap into place one day

It was a date, it was a home I had built myself, it was a reality I was sure of

Now it only exists as a memory that surfaces days that I don’t think I can push through

She still visits me but only in my dreams

 

Gone, Present Tense

Your eyes mapped my wildest dreams

Blues melting me away in your hand

Your kiss made it easier to forgive the sting of longings gone by

You held me like you never loved anything that came close before

All I could think was sorrow for what I couldn’t be

All I couldn’t become

Giving you all I had wouldn’t be enough and I knew before you pulled the trigger

Shooting the love I thought was bulletproof

You can’t even tell someone like you once lived in this body

Loving someone like me isn’t in your nature

You’re just a distant memory anymore

Tasting like sweet honey your voice met me with

But until next time, my friend

This is goodbye

Vacancy

I wove myself into the silence that is no more

I would have evaporated into dust rather than say goodbye

Collecting all my tears in a jar will bring no avail

Your fingers stretching out to touch me

Eyes beckoning to come home

The only living I can do is with you

Our stories are twined together as roots to towering trees

You cannot tear yourself from the winds whispering my name

The rain still sounds like you drifting to sleep in my arms

Thunder clapping like your laugh once did

Lighting electrifying my skin like your touch

Aching silence of my heart breaking still keeps you awake

Everything reminds me of you and I’m chained to the thought you’ll return

The house you built of me is vacant until

My Honest Poem

After Rudy Francisco

 

I was born July 21st

That makes me a cancer

Meaning my emotions are as controlled as the ocean my sign takes after

I’m 5 foot 6

I’m 14o lbs

And changing my hair transforms me into a person I wish I was

 

Also – I’m stubborn as the people I come from

The stubbornness hangs off me like a locket of all the family who no longer linger on this planet

Just like paint on clothes is a reminder of who came before me

People tell me they can find me by my laughter drifting down hallways

 

My mother’s water broke at 3 am

The power was out and my parents had to pack by the dim candlelight

What an indicator of how my life would be written

 

I like iced coffee

A lot

I have this odd fascination with clouds and sunsets

The way pinks and purples and oranges melt into each other

How no two clouds are the same

Mixing with the moods of the sky

I guess that’s why I tried to blend in when I was meant to stand out

Until I wanted to melt into the earth to no longer be

 

Hi –

My name is Ainslie

I’m still learning the curve of my own smile

I’m still learning the curve of my own smile

My voice doesn’t know the appropriate volume to create itself

Making people laugh with a certain clumsy is my specialty

Even days I can’t fish out my own smile

 

My hobbies include:

Collecting pens to scratch and mold words into a world you don’t care to visit

Creating myself into someone I wish I had become

And convincing myself there is something about me the dark couldn’t take

Lone

Lonely is a hearth I warm my palms at on a frigid winter day

Being alone allows me to see all the colors my thoughts painted for me

I can never quite get them out because they don’t want to meet anyone’s ears

So many drugs have tried to coax me out of my shadow lingering lonely

Love is one hell of a drug

My breath tracing secrets in the nape of his neck

Of worlds unseen only to my dreams

Being recreated in the framework of his skin

He wrote stories in my bones and I was silly enough to think I was better off alone

Lonely forgets that my story intertwined with his

Naievity got me standing in the rain thinking mother earth’s touch in the sadness shared would wash his words out of me

Thoughts of him have painted me blue

From the moment my eyes touched his I knew

He is one hell of a drug that loneliness won’t let me forget