Words

Sometimes it feels like the thoughts in my head are nuclear explosions
And my words, if I were to speak them, the nuclear fallout that always follows.
The cloud that goes wherever the wind takes it.
It hangs in the air and it changes how things will be forever.
And you can never know where it will land.
Where it will cause the most damage.
I think I learned this when listening to Her speak.
I saw how she threw them out without thinking
And I saw and I felt the fall out.
I saw bright blue sun shiny days ruined with clouds of thoughtlessness.
And it scared me.
It scarred me.
It scared the voice right out of me.
Every time I open my mouth I am terrified of the consequences
And sometimes it feels like I’m a volcano storing words that
Always no matter how hard I try
Eventually erupt and set the sky on fire.
I do not want to bury people in my ashes
Recently I have learned how words can be hugs.
And at first I thought it was delusional, because words have power
And hugs are just hugs.
They are meaningless embraces to show societally acceptable affection I used to cringe away from.
I knew better than to be seduced by them.
But lately I have grown to love them so see there power.
I’ve seen the safety from the storm of arrows that seem to fall all around me, trying to take pieces of me with them and hugs are all that keep me together.
Words can be hugs too.
And they are powerful.
I want to wrap my words around you and hold you close.
And tell you why you are safe here with me.
But it is hard to do something I have always feared and never tried,
It is hard to slowly release something I used to push down
Push down
And push down
Until I could not take it anymore
And I’d see my worst fears come to life
And I promised myself to never let the words fall out again.
But you showed me words full of comfort and strength
You showed me blankets of warmth without burns
I want to learn.
So you tell me I must practice.
It is hard to practice.
But you promised to take my swords and show me how to soften them.
You promised to take my silence and let it fall away, without fear of consequences.
You have given me a safe place, where any damage will always have purpose
I will share with you the words that fall out,
And I hope they have strength
And I hope they have fire
But I hope they do not leave us burned.

The Truth

The truth is I love you.
The truth is sometimes I wish I didn’t.
The truth is I will always hope that you love me back.
The truth is that’s probably not healthy

The truth is you don’t understand.
The truth is you never will.
The truth is I don’t understand.
The truth is I never will.

The rumor is you never loved me.
The rumor is you never will.
The rumor is you did it on purpose.
The rumor is it made you glad.

The rumor is I made it up.
The rumor is I just want attention.
The rumor is it’s just a phase.
The rumor is I’ll get over it.

The truth is you were supposed to protect me.
The truth is I don’t know how to understand.
The truth is hard to differentiate from rumor.
The truth is they won’t ever understand.

The truth is I wish I had never told anyone what happened.
The truth is I wish it was all in my head.
The truth would be easier to swallow if it was still only in my head.
The truth is the truth makes people uncomfortable.

Things That I Love

I love coffee
As long as there are two sugars and some milk.
I love walks in the forest
As long as I’m with you
I love reading
As long as I can hope for a happy ending
I love watching movies
As long as they only make me cry happy tears
I love pancakes
As long as there’s lots of butter and no syrup
I love French fries
As long as they’re actually waffle fries
I love naps
As long as I don’t wake up cranky
But I will love you
As long as I’m alive.

Hurricane Tamer

You are the laughter to my tears
You are the silly to my serious
You are the overly honest to my trying not to say too much
You are the rebel to my goody two shoes
You are the athlete to my band geek
You are the math nerd to my poetry enthusiast
And you are the sunshine to my stormy clouds
You are my husband

You took me at my most broken and told me you had never seen anything so beautifully put together
You make me feel like a beautiful stained glass window instead of all the shattered pieces of my life that seem to only be held together with tape
You hold me when I can’t stop shaking
You love me when I forget how to feel
And you are my blanket fort of safety

I didn’t ever think anyone would ever love me half as much as you do
I didn’t think I would ever find anyone who would appreciate my tears more than fake smiles
I didn’t think you existed.

Even when you get scared that I’m not going to make it through this hurricane
I want you to know that you are the reason the storm is a category 2 instead of a category 5
I want you to know you are the reason the end date keeps getting pushed back
Because I finally love someone more than I hate myself.

Love and Hate

I used to hate cheesy
I used to hate hands held tight
I used to hate kisses in public
I used to hate cozy couples at the bus stop

I used to love sleeping in the middle of the bed under 10 blankets with the window all the way open
I used to love sitting all alone for hours
I used to love staying up until 3 in the morning watching bad reality tv
I used to love spending Friday nights with friends

I now love the way you hold my hand while we wait for the bus stop
I now love not knowing where your side of the bed starts and mine ends
I now love going to bed early on a Friday night so we can wake up refreshed to start another adventure
I now love sleeping with 2 blankets and the window slightly cracked because that’s beautiful compromise when you used to sleep under a sheet with the heat up high.
I now love you.

When I Look in the Mirror

When I look in the mirror, I can’t tell which bruises I gave myself
And which bruises came from life.
I started beating myself whenever my head started feeling like it was exploding.
If someone would have asked me a year ago what an explosion sounded like I would have said BOOM
But now I know there is no boom there is only pressure that rings in your ears
And thoughts that shout at you begging you for release
But the release you know they are begging for, you also know is too permanent so
You wave your hands to make it stop
And somehow it only stops
When hands turn into fists that make contact with skin you know is your own
Because the thoughts of self-hate only trickle away when you act on them
Or when you write poems.
But both offer limited relief to the cycle that seems to never end and it’s weird because it started with acceptance
I accepted myself and then the little minions in my brain decided to
Open boxes I had never seen before
And bring out memories that were just dusty volumes to look through on deathbeds
But now my brain must think I’m on my deathbed
Because it is unleashing everything
Things that were better left under the rug
Except maybe they weren’t
Because everyone knows that only big monsters are under the rug
Buried deep but nothing keeps them from creeping up in the shadows.
I guess I turned a light on and instead of a little mouse with a big shadow
These memories are GIANT MAMMOTHS with mouse shadows.
But I think it is better to light up the shadows and reveal the monsters
Even when you don’t know how to tame them
Because then you have to fight for your deathbed instead of just finding yourself on it
You may leave bruises from the fights with parts of yourself
That seem determined to leave the deathbed but only if they leave your body behind.
I must fight for my right to climb out of my bed so that the mouse doesn’t scare me away
And even though the fight leaves me at times speechless and other times full of speeches but not any that make sense to those who ask for them
I must keep fighting the mammoth butterflies stuck inside
It’s a pity I can not reach inside to fight them like men
But they are not men they are memories
Made by men well mostly women
Who have abandoned them to me
These orphan mammoth memories need me to see them home.
For they only fight because they have been stuffed under rugs and pushed to the back of the closets that make up my mind
But maybe someday we can team up and be mammoth mouse mind fighters who fight the men who leave memories abandoned inside because we are all so strong
Instead of leaving bruises to see in the mirror.

Deserved

I have always been well behaved.
Unusually so, I would yell insults such as impertinent and almost always robotically give my Please’s and Thank You’s.
Don’t get me wrong I was a rebel at heart but
My idea of rebellion was telling you I disagreed with your ideology but since you paid the bills I would comply.
When I was seven years old I was thrown into a fence by the horse you told me to feed, and I didn’t yell, because I was too scared of what would happen to me if I did.
When I was a little older, I drank a whole glass of sour milk with a smile glued to my face
Because I was too hesitant to say that something was off
Because I knew if I was the one who thought it was wrong then it must be all right.
When I was barely old enough to be classified as a child, I would sit with my tiny hands folded in my Sunday best.
Praying to a God that you told me loved me to let me die right then so that I could go to heaven.
Because you said children always went to heaven, and I was tired of my hell
But you cleared it up because I learned sitting next to you in church pews that when you found yourself in hell it was because you deserved it.
So I must have deserved it.
And the only way I could ever escape was by being the best and saying I was the worst.
You told me to humble myself and I did.
I laid down before you my everything.
My heart, my self, my soul in hopes that it would be enough to grant me access to that heaven you so sweetly described.
But for some reason the more I gave the more final my punishment got.
But eventually the hell was replaced by a purgatory of sorts. I don’t know how else to describe it.
Like a twilight zone where your disapproval was masked with smiles and
My doubts were cast down, as no one who smiles that much can be the monster who
Locked me in rooms I could only liken to hell.
And as I grew older I reasoned that I was a monster for not loving you better.
Because no matter how many times you told me you loved me I couldn’t stop flinching at your touch.
Too ashamed to voice memories of things I was convinced were my fault.
Because when I found myself in hell, I knew I must have deserved it.
And now I go back and forth between thinking that the hell must have been imagined and telling myself that I must have deserved it.
But someday I hope I can go back and forth between wishing that hell was imagined and
Telling myself I deserved heaven.