Body

We all live in these vessels that carry us to the grave

Souls occupying until it feels like the right time to leave and start over

Leaving behind mourning of who was once in this now shell

My body has endured me opening it up in attempts to let the unease fly free

The chemicals my brain has been known to produce are out of date

The boards of this ship creak and let water in – only replaced when I am but nearly drowned

My skin is decorated with tattoos for a love I can no longer whisper the name of

His name still feels like a house fire out of control in my chest

I no longer wish for him to recognize my soul as one he once so intimately knew

This vessel I own in this life is littered with stories told and those yet untold wait to emerge through the old, the weary, the hand-me-down

I have not sank yet but dear god I know people are waiting to see the day I no longer exist on the same plane

But this worn out body has not seen its last days yet

Daily Prompt: Foggy

Empty planners are scattered across my room

I buy them in an attempt to remember things I need to get done but the key is remembering to write them down

A symptom of PTSD is memory issues

There are years clouded with smog dark enough to only let a few moments escape

A heart breaking in silence, knuckles to skin, going silent

Good years have a mist, moments slipping away to it yet many remain intact

There are years my existence was lost in all but photographs

I still walk around in a haze not sure where to put what memory

Unsure if this is all a dream or if I am actually here

via Daily Prompt: Foggy

Leaving

In a sea of people I hope your eyes find me happy

For I feel your presence everywhere I go

I so badly want you to be happy with your decision to leave

Yet I hope part of your heart is still broken – the part of it where I once lived

I shed so many tears for you for me to not want you to hurt

Loving you felt like drowning but I would continue just for you to keep loving me

I was so consumed by the fire I felt for you, blinded – I couldn’t see that it wouldn’t work in the end

The way you looked when you left is a painful memory plastered to my memory

I wish I could forget but I couldn’t help thinking about how beautiful you looked in the moments before

Oceans of green stealing glances, blond hair messed about by the wind through the car windows

If you regret loving me, don’t forget who you were then

Don’t forget what drew you into my arms

 

Love Notes

My body –

I am still learning ways not to destroy you

You are the vessel that carries me to the end

When you are gone, so am I

I decorate you to forget I once set fire to you so I could feel the warmth in my bones again

Because it was so cold

 

J.D.B. –

Love letters signed by you still litter my floor

All tear stained with the memories I try to block out

You were my worst mistake

I hope she tastes sweeter

 

A.M. –

I am sure I was your worst mistake

I want to plant forgiveness in your heart

But I know it won’t change your mind

 

J.S. –

When I imagine my wedding, you are standing there at the end of the aisle

Come home soon

 

My skin –

Your need to be red all the goddamn time gave people lots to pick apart

I tried to hide your imperfections with no avail

Deciding to be proud of you was my greatest achievement

Collisions of people are mapped out on you

Generations of triumph and hardship are written out on you

I am so sorry I ripped you apart for so long

 

Life –

I regretted being brought into you for years

You made me feel your weight too early

But you handed me laughter when I needed it

I am forever grateful for your gift

Even on the days I want to retreat into the darkness

On Accepting Death

For so long I have been grieving my own death

Feeling uncomfortable with every year passing that I’m still alive

I thought I would have been dead by 6 years ago

And 7 I accepted that I would float into nothing

While my body floated in rivers that were my family’s tears

All left of me dust

Deaths of idols, acquaintances, pets all reopen wounds I thought I healed

My soul aching for the embrace I once knew so close

Mourning the loss of souls in the existence I knew them in

While skipping a beat to mourn moments I nearly let mine go

A familiar voice tugging in the back of mine to let go this time

“You may have a chance to escape this time”

But I don’t

I never do

Poisoning

The trauma he left beats inside me as a second heart

Damaging me like the unfortunate book in your basement flood

I can’t quite piece together his face anymore

But I still have each love letter handwritten, sealed with his name

Chained around my neck in a heart shaped locket

A reminder that there was once love here

Even if tainted

I have no idea where he is anymore

I don’t care to find out

 

Disability // A Prompt

I still try hiding my disability, it is not pretty enough or radical enough to be in the light

People watch my hands tremble as I struggle to complete mundane tasks

Feeling my frustration that my hands can’t move fast enough but theirs can

I don’t want it to be everything that I am, but as soon as someone knows, it’s all I am associated with

Questions cause embarrassment because now I know people notice

“Do you have a limp?”

“Why does your foot sometimes drag?”

“Are you ok, your hands are shaking?”

It has me in its hold and it will never go away

I was outlasted for it before the diagnosis and medication hiding the episodes

Do you understand yet?

How can I be proud of it when I was thrown away for not being perfect enough for my peers?

via Daily Prompt: Tether

The Bottles On My Nightstand // A Prompt

There is a glass I leave open

Full of each positive thought I’ve had in the last few years

Some months it numbers less than others

Lying there open for whomever needs happiness in a moment of despair

Next to it lies a jug filled with each emotion that is not happy or her synonyms

There have been moments where it has overflowed into the glass next to it

I try to cap it in attempts to let no one else but me see inside

A few horror movie scripts could be made of it

This jug’s counterpart is a bottle filled of the years I don’t talk about

You know, the ones I erased from my memory in hope every one did too

But I know they will stay with me past the grave

All the years I didn’t stop hurting, even when I thought there was no hurt left

The memories play here in a movie about my own suffering, still waiting to be finished because I know there will be more years of this despite the little room this bottle has left to fit them in

One more bottle sits, filled with the good times

Capped off so I don’t forget

Moments I couldn’t stop laughing until I cried

Days my face hurt from smiling so much

I know there will also be more of these

Keeping optimistic it will fill before the years of suffering, I keep a larger bottle for the good days ahead

via Daily Prompt: Bottle

Love // A Prompt

We spent summer afternoons laughing our lungs out on the playground of your town’s elementary school

Those same nights spent trying not to get heat stroke in your poorly air conditioned room, with as many fans as we could muster

The first time we called ourselves a pair, our hands fit awkwardly together

Hearts thumping hard enough to break through ribs but trying to hide our feelings in front of all the people who so badly wanted this to happen

We danced around “I love you” for far too long to some people but it felt just long enough for us

Winter nights we spent in a snowy wonderland, snuggling up to each other for warmth

We grew into each other and the love we had bloomed

Love knows when two people who are meant for each other

We felt comfort in each other’s presence, not always needing words but just a gentle brush of skin or meeting of eyes across a room

Sharing jokes between facial expressions and gestures

As much as I hate to admit, he was home

The spring I tore myself away is still vivid in my memory

The sights, smells, the way the air felt

I didn’t want to admit how afraid I was that he might be the one

And that was the worst mistake I ever made

We both admit we still love each other

It’s just finding the path back to our love and watering it until it blossoms again

via Daily Prompt: Blossom

Prompt

I am but a puzzle of a family of artists and a mentally ill family

I am created of puzzle pieces fitting together, a mosaic of sorts

Coping with mental health via creation

Documentation of storms inside my brain created on paper and canvas

Manic states more than depressive

Mania is filled with color and ideas shifting around trying not to overthrow each other

Depression only looks for the darkness

Either state has me fixate on dying

How afraid of it I am or how I welcome it with open arms

Creating and destroying keep my hands quiet in every moment my brain decides not to be

via Daily Prompt: Create