cigarette smoke

poetry

I can’t take the silence

Whether it be sparks burning out in a conversation meant for 2, or the weight of anticipation pushing my face closer to their feet. All while I battle with the mischevious monster which happens to go by the name of Anxiety.

I can’t take the silence. The type, not even cigarette smoke can fill. All we can do is throw meaningless words that will only indent the fading clouds but never the mind.

So I talk and I talk because I’m scared if I stop, my heart may just beat out of my chest-
and on their shoes…

I can’t take the silence, but everyone else can. And the eyes that surround me, they scare. physical symptoms convincing you that their judgment is towering over you. as their shadow grows larger and more ferocious-
As the conversation continues

I can’t take the silence,
but everyone else can.

Advertisements

Wonder/Wander

poetry

I wonder if he knows
he is the reason why my eye twitches-
every time honesty is put on a pedestal

My eyes trail the words “trust me” as they float from his mouth
into the air- only to make its way to the open window
and jump to its death

Cowardice like the man who spoke them.

I wonder if he knows
he is the reason my natural instinct is to always be alert
Like a police officer beckoning that seatbelt to be undone
or a server waiting for the cheap family of 8 to leave

Rather than roasting under the hot spell of love
I search for shadows attached to his heels
to prove my deepest anxieties were true

I wonder if he knows
he is the reason my feet ache
From always being on my tippy toes
so that I am never looked down at again
because I’d rather my toes ache
instead of my neck

I wonder if he knows
Just like the spider that bit spiderman
A superpower rooted from my wounds
and I am thankful, because without it
I’d probably have nothing to write about.

Barefeet and broken glass

poetry

I shared the tips of my fingers
Caressed them deep into your scars
So that even the parts which hurt the most
Can feel warmth

I shared the mane blooming from my mind
and wrapped it tightly around your fist
So that with every move I make
The tug will remind me
of you

I shared my aching neck
burdened with holding the weight of my thoughts
As daydreams of you taunt the sun
and fantasies drift with the moon

I shared the last of my innocence
Gave up the crown and glass slipper
Because I’d rather share a typewriter
And tiptoe barefoot around the broken glass of whiskey

I shared my heart; palpitations, pain, and all
And although cliches have never been my thing
It’s yours- naked and afraid.

Beneath the sun

poetry

I was filled to the top, water overflowing off the edge
Then someone pulled the plug
Just to watch me tornado through the drain
with only a puddle lingering its last breath

I fell for what felt like eternity
through narrow somber pipes camouflaged in grime and filth
Absorbing bits and pieces along the way

I became polluted beyond filtration
water, not even a pig would drink
My thoughts became contaminated as I squeezed my sanity tight
Waiting for my end. Beckoning the end.

Alone, plummeting in perpetual solitude
As my delusions filled the gaps the sewage failed to grab hold of
Falling through loops and turn, some would claim as fun
But in the darkness, this rollercoaster was just a trunk ride to the unknown

Finally, a light shone, minuscule but bright
And the sludge I became, spilled beneath the sun
Falling into open water, where all those polluted created a home
And although I miss that pearl tub, I could never relive that ride

Moulded, wave after wave with others scarred from the shadowy pipes
But together we became an ocean
and all our filth became one
Waiting to comfort the next victim tumbling beneath the sun

The butterflies and the bees

poetry

People always say that love is bright
but it burned right through my hazel eyes
What kind of love is heavenly
when all I’ve sensed is the devil daring me

That clear blue ocean they reference religiously
has been overrun with predators who follow relentlessly
and the glass of summer wine will escalate
to empty bottles littering the landscape

Oh, and how beautiful to compare a red rose to your love
until I came to realize it is the same colour as fresh blood
and I wouldn’t count on that glow in your smile to stay
The black shadows beneath your eyes are not easy to escape

So tell me again, how your love is like a tree in full bloom
home to thousands of butterflies reflecting off the moon
Then come to me again, right before their extinction
and tell me how you miss those monarch’s distinction

Go on about the beauty in the movement of their wings
and how it gave a sense of promise compared to your past stings
Then I will remind you again how easy it is to believe
that butterflies dominate the population of bees

Vice

poetry

There it goes

that pesky drop of beer trickling down the edge of my chin
substituting the tears I should, or maybe would be crying
Because I’d rather tears fall from my lips
Those succulent drops I can’t help but overstretch my tongue to catch

Gripping the beer can like I grip my sanity-
very poorly

There it goes again
that half-lit cigarette suppressing the pulsing vein lining my neck
substituting natural practices for an easy release
Because I’d rather blow ‘O’s’ for a few minutes
Then welcome back my anxieties once the cherry’s out

Gripping the cigarette like I grip my self-control-
very poorly

There it goes again, just like every other morning
inserting caffeine through a syringe till the last bitter drop
Substituting fructose filled fruits with a dark delight
That probably ensures more headaches than vitality
But costs less in the end

Gripping the coffee like I grip my addictions-
very tightly

There it goes again, like any other night
when all tension releases from the taste of melatonin on my tongue
substituting a few prayers and natural exhaustion to avoid my taunting subconscious
because the sandman was declared a phony just like Mr. Claus
so let’s blame it on them, like when we were kids

Gripping the pillow like I grip my reality-
very poorly

Him

poetry, Uncategorized

His smiles so bright, a comfort I cannot describe
Like the fumes from gasoline, rearing me into a high
But ultimately, I know, he’ll do nothing but harm
And I’ll float down from cloud 9 right into his shadowy arms

His eyes so relaxing, a calmness like the sea
But the deeper I look into them, the harder it is to breathe
And as the waves push me further from the land I desire
I am slowly dragged downwards into his underwater empire

His hands filled with warmth, a touch that sends shockwaves through my veins
But you can never have lightning, without the undeniable rain
And as I look around for shelter, I’m surrounded by trees
The biggest bait to nature’s electric masterpiece

Once the storm has calmed, and I lye drenched and afraid
From nowhere, there he is, carrying an umbrella with my name
I smile because he came, even though it was too late
And I fall back into the cycle, because somehow, it is worth the rain.

It’s It’s It’s

poetry

It’s the hesitation in my skull
Pulsing like the crickets outside my window
As I lay wide awake counting the stucco on the ceiling
Eye’s opening, closing, rolling, tearing, squinting.
Repeating the words, relax, As the birds begin to chirp
But nothing works, so I lay awake until I lay asleep

It’s the disconnection in my eyes
As I stare at his picture in the back of my mind
Only a stomach full of whiskey can help revert my view
But just until the morning
Then there he is, hand in hand with my hangover

It’s the feel of my protruding ribs as I pull my shirt over my head
While the mirror breathes in every insecurity only to spit it right back in my face
So I spin around and around like a beat up model begging for satisfaction
But the only one in the crowd is me

It’s the deceiving smile I put on to avoid confrontation
Because i’ve heard every hallmark, bullshit quote in the book
But I’ll pretend to deal into their empty bluff
Until this card game is over and his picture appears again

It’s the sweat that forms beneath this mask i wear
Constantly afraid the decorations might fall off
Fall from this mask I’ve spent endless nights creating
But it’s better than leaving my skin bare

Trust is for people who believe the world is a good place

The questions of love

perspective

When i get asked about love, it’s never the right questions.

Does love have a good job with an above average income? An income you can eventually take half of? A car worth triple your life savings and a mansion with a 5 car garage? Does love wear tailored suits or jackets lined with fox corpses? Oh and love better come from a good family with an even better bank account! Does love pay for all of your meals and shower you with gifts?  Did you find your true love?

These are the questions I am surrounded by, because love to some is a synonym for stability, convenience and comfort.

They don’t ask me if love does everything in his power to make me feel beautiful.They don’t ask if love tries to make me happy even when circumstances are rough. They don’t want to know about the butterflies that fill my stomach or the smile he puts on my face. God forbid they ask if love is trustworthy and loyal. They don’t take into account how love drops his pride for forgiveness or travels 3 hours by bus just to see my face.

Love has many definitions but unfortunately some exclude genuine happiness as one.

Roulette

poetry

You kept telling me I had talent, waiting to burst out of my skin
You said I was royalty, and your honour to be king
You said my brain was filled with colour, seeping out of my ears
And every time I spoke, passion poured out like tears

But then you told me I was fruitless, my mind just a wastefill
You told me there were hundreds like me,  a blueprint you could build
You burned my paper crown and sucked the passion from my words
Then showered me in guilt as you continued your purge

Then you told me you were sorry, it was all in your head
You said your past haunts you and sleeps under your bed
You said you loved me, as flames circled us like prey
Then threatened to lose balance unless I chose to stay

The worst of it all, is because of my refusal,
You spun the roulette of emotions and anger filled your pupils
So I pulled up my anchor and gently sailed away
As you brewed storm’s to follow that still chase me till this day