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shall i?panic, panic.
all i want to do is panic.
let it bubble over,
let tears spill out,
sob, whine in the back of my throat,
hands shaking, stomach twisting.
i want to panic.
i can't, can't panic.
these pills dull my system,
make me lethargic,
and really, i want to panic,
that'd be more normal for me.
that stupid feelingYou make me crazy
Sending me on this up
And down travel
You don't even realize
I talk to you
And my heart's coming up
And into my mouth
I can't focus
And my breathing is coming out
Labored as I try to control
That panic that you make me feel
And I'm giggling
Covering my eyes
And trying to hide
While trying to figure out
What the hell is wrong with me
And how I could feel this way again
You'll never return the feelings
Never think of me
In the many ways I think of you
And dream of you
But at least I have that
Who comforts me in the night
And makes me feel whole
If only until I wake up
changesi'm learning now,
that change can be good
or it can be bad.
but change doesn't have
to be finite. doesn't have
to be the death
of something good.
i know how i feel.
i live in a state of
the rational part of
me believes that
i'll never be abadoned.
the irrational part
tells me that everyone
else has abandoned me.
just know that i'm here for
you. i'll do anything
and i know you'll be here
i'll try to stop getting up
i'll stop acting like a
i'm not jealous. just scared.
very, very scared.
change can be good,
if we didn't change
as a friendship,
we've never be friends now.
we'd be stuck,
at ground zero.
but we're at the tippy-top right now.
maybe he could be more important.
but we're still friends.
so much like sisters.
that if he's more important,
we're still close.
i understand this now.
i'm beginning to
change is good.
and i'll be around forever,
even if you start
to go away.
quantificationi cannot properly quantify
the number of times you make my heart beat,
but sometimes you make it
skip a few times.
you've sunk so deep into my pores,
that it's hard to imagine which cells are mine,
and which cells are yours.
when i sit next to you,
it's like our souls mesh together
until they're one,
until we could never be separate.
it's just me, not you, at allI'm sorry for the way I act,
I know it pushes you away.
my mind won't stop
thinking of the worst.
until the anxiety grows and grows,
and I feel angry, for no reason.
I keep acting irrationally, and
keep pushing you away further.
it's the last thing I want,
I just need someone to understand,
that I don't realize what I'm doing
until it's far too late.
I'm sorry to you too.
I act needy, so you've said,
and get too easily offended.
but you've been there for so long,
and I'm just scared,
that you'll leave me like the rest,
because you don't like the person I've become.
I changed too much,
need meds to control my brain,
and then I just push you further
sometimes I just can't bring myself to breathe,
because I look too far into the future.
where you're leaving me,
for what I don't know, but that is the part
that scares me the most.
and I'll be alone in this world,
with no one but myself.
if nobody else wants me around,
I don't either.
cracks like crevasseswhen the sun sets, and dusk falls upon us, there's a blanket that sweeps over you. the rapid pitter-patter of your heart, and we're falling apart, aren't we? this is not the way i wanted it to be, but this happened, and you can't help but choke on the bile of your forgotten innocence. and i really hate you, for everything that you've done and never admitted to. this is our forlorn story, and i can't bring myself to forgive you for all of this.
i speak like i know what i'm talking about, even if the sting of defeat is looming right over my heart. i push forward and pretend that your prying eyes aren't wrapping around my neck until i choke. until i see sparkles in the corners of my eyes, and wrap my fingers around your throat, and i hope you can't breathe. i hope your deception digs you a grave and buries you alive.
i was okay, i really was. i was floating on a cloud, up in the sky. until it dissipated from beneath me and i was crashing back down to the ground. breaking and crumbli
messi'm a big mess.
i remember the thin skin
pulled across the bones
of your skinny fingers.
mascara slips under my eyelids.
i can't breathe.
need to breathe.
i love you.
miss you desperately,
it kills me.
no, i can't be happy
that you even lived.
because your body's
buried away in california.
you were under the sheet.
and i never got a proper goodbye,
as i sat with my legs underneath
and cried as i saw your hand peek
i got rid of the biohazard bag,
that they put your rings in.
papa shouldn't have given me
the bag back.
it destroyed me.
i can't breathe.
"why does she have to be gone?"
no one ever gives me
a good enough answer.
i didn't just die a little inside,
i was completely obliterated.
even when i say i'm alright now,
i know it'll never be just fine.
because, i can't breathe...
the things you doyou're terrible for me.
the things you do,
can drive me insane.
you ignore me.
i move on.
but when you start talking again,
my heart gives a few flutters.
it's back again.
and i hate you for it.
really like you for it.
The Regular Life
World turning upside down
A smile becomes a frown
“Chemo will be our best answer”
Distracting myself with art
My ability to draw is hectic
Sanity and reality tearing apart
Artwork becomes neglected
Trying to swallow the worry
Should I ever to tell her?
“Mom, it’s alright, I’m sorry”
Saying to myself; “My art is shit”
Blank papers surrounding me
Falling into this mental bottomless pit
I can never be freed
To My DadTo My Dad
You are my best friend,
And yet still strict with me.
I know you mean well,
You encourage my dreams and goals.
You know I can do better.
From watching you play video games all those years ago
(Yes, I still remember bits of them on the Playstation)
To History Channel war shows you always watched
(For which I blame my love for history for)
To car shows and plane museums, and all the bits in between.
From inside jokes about krakens
(And I don’t sound like an ogre when I wake up)
To British shows and still watching you play video games
(Which I think you’ve stepped away from Call of Duty, or whatever it was)
To you taking pictures whenever I fall asleep with Mocha.
You are my best friend,
Making sure I don’t become a boring adult
You push me to try and be better than I think I can be
Since you know how far I can go
You’ve helped me become the person I am now
From video games and history to cars and traveling
Getting me used to camping and walking
MomWhat did I do
When I was born
You hold your side
Like I'm a thorn.
How did the old you
What does a mother
Have to fear
From the real world?
I've heard the legends
Passed along so haughtily
By your own mother.
She held you and three others
And a "real" job.
She had a husband for a long time...
But 22 years was long enough.
Maybe even too long.
Now she's a language lover
Just like me.
Reads in bed like it's the only thing
That keeps her breathing.
Because a son with hollow bones
Doesn't help a bit.
Neither do you
With your rotten teeth
And rotted motivation.
It's like a worm in your heart.
She tried her hardest
To drive her two daughters and two sons
To school, sports, and theater.
And living with a man
Who always told her what to do
And wasn't there.
Always hanging on that fishing reel
And what has she now?
Elder daughter, elder son
And the younger,
Sloths at home
With the wine, Sudoko
And Call of Duty in hand.
And not to mention the cigarette
The MotherI wonder what being a mother means to you
Because you get your sons to believe one thing
Your sister to believe another
Your brother to believe the next
Your mother takes up for you through all of it
Your husband is also in this mix
Truth is something you're not familiar with
He's mine, but also believes your lies like the others and it bothers me
To know that he doesn't make reasonable deductions based on habits, past or actions
I guess I just wish they all could see through you as much as I do
It's so simple, but then again
Who likes to admit that their own mother is a bit crazy
Telling tales that never existed
Living in a world that we don't see
Tears in my eyes
I am standing here listening to the noise of a voice yelling at me
Standing in my house, I feel like I’m in a cage unable to be set free
I storm to my room with the voice following me, I slam the door
I sit on my bed close to tears but then I feel dizzy and I fall on the floor
I am conscious but I’m boring my eyes out, tears are running down my face
I open my door and dash down stairs and out the front door like I’m in a race
Voices are following shouting, “Come back or there will be trouble!”
I kept running, I felt the tears fly off my face, I ran past the house in a pile of rubble.
I came to a place with 2 beautiful horses but the owner had been gone for years
They both come over and one allows me ride them bareback, I felt as if I had no fears
They both ran towards the river, where I planned something that I knew
The horses seemed to understand my pain as there were only a few
We ran for 2 hours straight, we’d reached the river and I climbed off t
Untitled"Why do you keep trying?"
"I don't know anymore..."
"Maybe I tried to prove I had some worth."
"Maybe I tried to show that people without parents could do things."
"I think I may have tried, because I had a strong will."
"Why do you just accept being called worthless?"
"What can I do, if it's true?"
"I stopped trying obviously, so it's okay."
"It's true, isn't it?"
"After all, the flaws are important."
"Why are you so negative?"
"What's there to be positive about?"
"The world is a cruel place, and we are just players in a game."
"Don't talk to me if you're negative..."
"Can't you accept that person you knew, you won't again?"
"Does it hurt?"
"Knowing no one holds hope in your future?"
"Being told that you're worthless, no matter how hard you try?"
"Only being told the flaws of things you do?"
"Yes it hurts, but all I can do is continue..."
The PantryHow does love and nurture putrefy?
They must be imperishable!
The books, the pamphlets, the fiction--
they guarantee quality and freshness.
But the daintiest sample illustrates a shelf life.
One can only prepare for so long,
for upgrades are necessary.
No longer is the milk rich and sweet,
but it is tainted.
Resentment and denial: these do not warm me.
For their superfluous appearance, I hate them.
Powdered, bitter, clumpy.
This cannot sustain my desire for the sensuous crunch of life.
Forgive me mother, for I know what I must do.
All Here For A ReasonI turned onto a shady, well-manicured driveway that, for all intents and purposes, looked harmless enough. Maple trees lined both sides of the street, and a parade of Canadian geese marched across the road to a wide duck pond with a flamboyant fountain. There were blooming crepe myrtles and rose-of-sharons, and as I grew closer to my destination, neatly trimmed gardens with neatly trimmed bushes.
I stopped to let the geese pass. They looked at me; one hissed. I honked my horn and moved around them.
At the end of the road sat a collection of grayish buildings and a number of signs directing me to the appropriate parking lot. "Welcome to Ten Creeks Hospital," said one of them. "Please enjoy your stay." I parked in the visitor's lot. Surely I wouldn't be staying.
I was shaking when I got out of my car. I had spent the morning getting high. One foot in front of the other, flip-flop noises, hot sidewalk. Mulberry and magnolia trees, freshly shaved grass. A bench and pan for smokers. A set o
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