I’m short on words today
Your porcelain heart cracked
Spilling crimson blood on these white pages
and my hands are covered in guilt but
my eyes are opened wide for what feels the first time
Sunlight floods in through these cracks-
my ribcage torn open, heart exposed
as I set pen to paper recording all
the multitudes of syllables
I want to shout but can’t.
The dam of apathy breaks, floodgates open and
The pain is glorious, unending and terrible and
I revel in the feeling of feeling at all
Of precious blood pulsing through swollen veins drop by drop
Declaring life and forcing movement
So I stand on shaking legs because I cannot sit any longer, cannot watch the way this life unfolds without me.
But i am small and the weight of my presence is too much for my breaking heart - splinted together with wishful thinking, promises of happiness and certainties of failure.
So I watch as the shadows return and I slide beneath them
Watching the coming darkness with bloodshot eyes yet hoping for the light.
there’s a rhythmic beating in my heart
it speaks your name in the pulse of my veins
and i remember again and again
your laugh, your smile, and you.
i lie awake late at night with my heart wide open
my soul is a battlefield
and you’re the only white flag i’ve ever known
but last i checked, you’re far far away
so i’m left to dig another grave on this territory
an epitaph that reads shorter than it should
because i’m short on words today
short on breath and short on
laughter
but really i’m just short on you.
and in my head i picture us laughing but lately
the picture’s so distorted, like a grainy old
black and white film, and i keep thinking
i’ll see Mr. Chaplin running past in the backrgound
but that would be too funny for this film.
and there are boulders tied to my ankles, rocks in my stomach
because lately all i do is shore up thoughts
and there’s only so much thinking that this mind can do
before the dam begins to break
and i become endlessly heavy.
and the only things that can help me stand are
your laugh, your smile, and you.
skipping through the halls like children on the way to recess
because our footfalls ring too heavy in these times
and all we want is to be free.
Jamie Tworkowski
you ripped me apart today
but i stitched myself together with a strand of thread
torn from an old jacket that you loaned me on that day
not the day you told me you loved me
with the Hollywood sun shining down on our heads;
it was the other day
the day the wind threatened to chill us all,
the day i thought that the weather was the temper of the world
and the ocean was an army just waiting to swallow us whole.
it was the day you took my hand and promised me the world
but at the time I wasn’t listening;
I was too busy feeling the warmth of your hand
and the crease of your palm pressed against mine.
but these are only memories, and on this day i would do anything
to
leave
them.
but you of all people should know how it is,
the things I’d like most to forget are the ones
that play over and over on the turntable of my brain,
like that opera that you hope ends soon
but really
never
ends.
i can’t remember the point or purpose of this rhyme, I’m tangled up in the loose ends of these sutures that i’m stitching and really, I should probably
focus
on what’s right now
instead of
what is or isn’t
or was or will be.
but i’ll be honest and tell you know
each stitch only drives home
my worst memories.
i’d like to fall asleep tonight
i’d like to empty my soul and fall into
nothingness.
but my eyes close at night upon a soul that tosses and turns
my brain firing blanks at the backs of my eyelids
machine-gun like precision and
over and over again i see the faces
breaking my heart like porcelain
over and over again and it’s
futile to rebuild
futile to believe that promises ring true
that “we the people”
could ever be “we united”
and though we like to say that we help those in need
we’ve forgotten to acknowledge the neediness of our hearts
but inside we are all beggars, vagrants
wandering the streets of self-pity and scorn
hoping for a handout but refusing to acknowledge
that the problem lies in us
and we are the enemies of ourselves.
we pledge allegiance to a flag that we’ve forgotten
and red white and blue means nothing to us
except a slogan with which to sell our souls
while blood drips from the wounds of those
in foreign nations
we gorge ourselves on the blood
that drips from our hands
and we cry peace but we’ve forgotten
the meaning of the word
as we sip champagne from our crystal glasses
and seek to shut out anything beyond the realm
of me.
me, and i, not we.
because we means coming together
and coming together means acknowledging
everything i’m not.
and i’d rather sit in stony silence and meditate upon
all i wish had
then open my mouth for those
who have no voice
no voice with which to utter cries of desperation help
forsaken forgotten we are forbidden to speak
of that which lies outside of our borders and within our hearts
and though i may cry freedom
i can’t recall the taste of it
‘cause i’ve long been enslaved to the state of my mind
that tells me buy buy buy
more more more
and it’ll never be enough
until we drown in the seas of our own selfishness
hands stained green from the money that we grasp
our fists clenched too tight to reach out to our brothers
and this is all we are
and all that we’ve become
and though i’ll close my eyes tonight
i won’t dream of anything
because sleeping comes with a heavy price.
what cruel wind
gave speed to your words
gave motion to the syllables
that spill from your lips?
they land on my ears
and enter in.
refusing to fly back out
festering in my mind.
eating a hollow hole within me.
oh tell me darling
were they your words or mine?
your voice spoke them
but my mind repeats them
encirling myself in a neverending cycle of
worthlessness.
and it’s sick.
pathetic even.
i am not who i thought it was
my identity is not in you
it’s in me .
but somewhere in the mixup
i think it’s gotten lost
in between who i am
and who i thought i was with you.
pretty legitimate…
got 2nd place and learned a lot.
i’ve pretty much sucked at writing lately. life is honestly just ridiculously busy. but i’m thinking of shutting down my other tumblr and just moving exclusively to this one which will hopefully inspire me to write a little more.
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blurofcolorandmusic-deactivated asked: you need to write more Maresa! i know… I’ve been so ridiculously busy. =/ |
As a child, I loved airports. There was something about them — the energy, the planes in motion, the crowds of people — that inspired my young mind. Airports were synonymous with hellos. But, that was then and this is now. Now I sit on a plane alone. It’s dark out and the hum of the engine reminds me that I’m moving farther and farther away from everything I want to stay with. There’s only so much comfort that you can find in acoustic music and books, so I sleep fitfully for most of the flight but always in my head I find the same refrain — I hate goodbyes, I hate goodbyes, I hate goodbyes. And I touch down in Denver and I realize that I hate airports and I hate crying and I hate feeling weak. And everything in my head is everything that I don’t want to think about anymore. I hate goodbyes. I hate the way I think sometimes. I hate airports. I think over the past and how much I want to go back, but today is today and it’s all I have, and the knowledge of that is both torturous and wonderful. And I realize more and more that life is all about hellos and goodbyes and we can’t have one without the other, really. Maybe that’s what it comes down to - finding a way to live with what we have, today. Even if that takes all the air out of our lungs, even if we aren’t sure how to stand. This is it. This is all we have. This is all I have today, but it’s enough. Because all we have are todays. Hellos. Goodbyes. And choosing to be happy despite all of the times we feel like quitting — that’s the challenge. That’s the beauty. The more I learn about life, the more I’m fascinated with it and in love with it. And as a child I never thought that I’d be where I am now, but I think that’s a good thing. Because where I’m at now is better than anything I’ve ever imagined. And maybe losing my childlike love of airports isn’t a bad thing. Because maybe I’ve finally learned to appreciate hellos.
i guess it’s all right.
but it’s not, it’s not.
i go to sleep and dream of you - your hands and your smile and us meeting after weeks apart.
it’s hard to be the one on the outside, the one who waits.
but i know you’re waiting too.
i’ll taste the sky and feel alive again.
maybe that’s it.. this life thing: these sights, these sounds, these moments;
they’re not the same without you.
and i don’t mean that in a cheesy, hallmark greeting card way.
i mean everything means more when i’m with you.
and that’s the only honest way to put it.
i don’t worry that you won’t be waiting for me,
i don’t worry that things will change:
i just miss you. and i wait,
and maybe that’s why this is so hard:
because every ounce of my being is wrapped up in
waiting for you.
and it’s strange to be surrounded by familiar sights and sounds
and people i call “family”;
yet still feel empty inside because
your hand isn’t holding mine.
and i know they say it’s crazy to have
your heart so tied up in someone,
but i’ll freely acknowledge that
you’re worth the risk.
and it’s not like i’ve really given my heart away;
i just confuse my heart with yours, sometime
and in the nights when i lie awake,
i hear your breathing:
rhythmic and wise and beautiful
and it’s almost enough,
to span the miles that separate,
you are the laughter i keep in my heart.
there isn’t any way to say it
that doesn’t sound cliche,
just know you illuminate
every inch of me.