#spilled everything

“You’re always allowed to heal, always.”

- g.d.

“You taught me how to love, forgive and care. You taught me how tough it could get and all the despair. You taught me my first words and how to eat, you made me everything I am, and I will ever be. Life seems dull when you’re not around, but with your one smile, everything turns around. You’ve given so much and asked for so little, you’ve sacrificed your dreams to make mine achievable. All my love and actions in this world will fall short in comparison to yours; it will take me a lifetime and many more to reciprocate yours. If I have only one wish, I hope that when I am born again, I have you as my mother all over again. because mommy, no matter where I am, I love you a thousand times more.”

- g.d. (Happy Mother’s Day)

“And she looked at the moon and asked if this was how life was supposed to be. If it was supposed to be hard and tiring. The moon smiled at the young girl wistfully and sighed. She knew that everything was wrong and she couldn’t fix it except listen to her woes and show up for her almost everyday. She was let down by everyone and would be let down by her as well. But at least she’d see the little stars she’d leave behind to be there for her constantly. It wasn’t enough but she hoped she’d realize that those who cared would always stay or leave things about themselves behind to be remembered by. And that they were never truly gone. And for that moment she shone a little brighter and stayed a little longer to listen to her woes before she disappeared for another day.”

-g.d. (moon and stars)

“I want to love you between my sheets, baby. Shower you with kisses and leave marks where nobody can see them. I want to be the one that makes you see the stars and the moon. Be the one who knows what you like and how you like it. The one who knows what makes you smile like that.Be the one you seek out at night for more than just a hug. I want to be more and be forever. I want to be yours baby, forever and ever. I want to be the one you love between the sheets.”

- g.d (sheets)

“I hope to love with the same abundance I choose to read. Endlessly and wildly.”

- g.d

The way my hips sway every time that I walk

The piercing regret that sets in after I talk

When I look in the mirror it’s a monster I see

A monster that looks a whole lot like me
I don’t understand when this girl got so bad

I just wish her eyes in the mirror weren’t so sad

You see, I feel disconnected from the reflection that I own.
No more confidence
Into self-loathe I’ve grown.

r.t.

I said the words I never thought I could

And the weight of the world lifted

Secrets spilled in the front seat of my car

A truth stained that could take me miles

But had up until then kept me stranded

I said the words I never thought I could

And all the fear that plagued me vanished

Secrets I kept hidden from myself

A truth now exposed for someone else

Now I drive with my windows down

I said the words I never thought I could

And I knew that the worlds; all above and below were listening

Secrets fleeting

Truth overwhelmingly seeping from windows, dripping onto chilled pavement, shining in the sun.

A vision I had always hoped to see, that I never thought I would.

All because I said the words that i never thought I could.

r.t.

It’s shallow
But I’m drowning
In a hate so rooted deep
I’m lost inside reflections
An uphill battle that’s too steep

Taught to battle monsters
I keep fighting them with skill
forgot to warn me that the ones inside
were not okay to kill.

r.t.

Looking for all the right answers
in all the wrong places.
Looking to find myself
in everybody else’s faces.
Can’t keep praying
for what I swear I don’t need.
Can’t keep trying to understand
a book I won’t read.
I expect others to see value
in a place I never do.
I expect my plans to succeed
though I don’t think them through.
Obsessive.
Compulsive.
Right in all the wrong ways.
Seems like I’ll be stuck here choking on self-hatred
till somebody stays.

r.t.

It’s late and I miss you.
You were to be my everything
My refuge
You kept me safe.
From myself.
Happy.

It’s late and I miss you.
My mind wanders
I’ve thought up
A million things to say to you
Things I won’t.
But wish I could.

It’s late and I miss you.
And life is short.
But so was your temper.
And I’m still trying to make sense of what happened.

It’s too late.
I miss you.
You called today.
Not even the warmth of your voice could salvage the icy front I had put up.
You weren’t here when I needed you.

It’s late
and hopefully now you miss me.

But I think I’ve finally stopped
Missing you.

r.t.

“It’s whatever”
He said with tears in his eyes
He hid away
Broken.
I didn’t fall for his lies
His parents drank often
He promised himself he wouldn’t
I told him to stay strong
He told me, he couldn’t
He got home from school
Everyday exhausted
Nobody realized his strength
Until one day he lost it.
For him to inhale and say yes one more time.
To a life he was robbed of
The most complex of crime.
He sat in class silent,
But when asked he would spill
Because all he needed
Was someone to listen and be still
He’d tell them his story
The one he told me
And they’d watch amazed at the new depths they’d see.
A boy who was strong
A boy who was clever
But when concluding his tale
He’d just utter “it’s whatever”

r.t.

‘I have tried my hardest today—

and perhaps my hardest is not my best,

but on that, what else can I say?’

'today, tomorrow,’ - Megan’s Poetry #

‘Inside I am all hollow, winding—

how I imagine a turned-out seashell—

and in the very centre there lives a china woman,

gathering water from my inner well.’

'break,’ - Megan’s Poetry #1280

‘guilt is a flower; it takes root, tangling

down the spine and round the lungs—

it waits, snake-like, for its chance to blossom;

today, it is done.’

'guilt,’- Megan’s Poetry #1279

‘I was born into a thorn-bush;

now, as if I were the one to fall,

I must find the thorns lodged in my breast

and remove them, one and all.’

'the thorn-bush,’ - Megan’s Poetry #1278

‘I know not; I kneel still;

surely there is direction

in a pleading posture’s lines?’

'ayin,’ - Megan’s Poetry #1272

‘I am pursued by a formless being:

it gives constant chase, so I live fleeing—

first plucking the Sun, as I might fruit to eat,

it strides across the sky with a hunter’s feet;

its Brobdingnagian limbs now cross the land,

where it catches the moon in one clawed hand—’

'time,’ - Megan’s Poetry #1271

‘I cry the tears you claw from me now

with knowledge that they are my pre-emptive mourning;

my eyes, you say, cannot see—

but at least I am not blind to where our story is going.’

'pre-emptive mourning,’ - Megan’s Poetry #1270

‘we stand here in this wreckage—

scraps of plaster, shards of china, four walls echoing

with rage, and imprinted

with fists, torn as you stand there and tell me

that the dropped tears upon the floor

prove that I am too emotional.’

'anger, the non-emotion,’ - Megan’s Poetry #1269

‘the days uncoil;

strips of rain—

I will not shiver under this 'slaught again;

I will miss not the times, but Time—

that great beast— I have never trapped him;

still, I do not let him go with ease.

—what happens in the dryness?’

'the days of the desert,’ - Megan’s Poetry #1267