#spilled prose
She became convinced that the measure of her existence hung in the balance.
That the complexity of her calm fell in the number of idle breaths she took a day
That her beauty was a scarcity of times that she glanced at the mirror without feeling repulsed.
She is fragile.
Picking up the broken pieces that were once amassed to create a woman. Beautiful and resolved.
All it takes for such a woman to fall, is the absence of someone to pick up the pieces.
And instead of being her own someone. Her own harrowing warrior.
She fell.
Cracked under pressure.
She was broken. And needed everything she swore she’d never want.
Searched for her own validation in the hands of another. And slowly wept; wilted away into her own self demolition.
She lived shadowed under a blanket of grievances.
They were no longer the materialistic obstacles that used to hoard her time.
The were deep and dark and ugly.
She’s slipping into a black hole of her own creation. In a list for validation to find value in herself hidden in the arms of another. When will she realize that she is the only person that will give her worth. She is the only one who can understand her value. And she must fight to be comfortable in her own skin and bones rather than listlessly searching for a piece of her, hidden in a puzzle of broken souls.
She is fragile.
But she will live. And she will learn to love the pieces that have gone astray, the rounded edges and the bitterness that keeps her up till early hours. She will learn to look into the mirror and be content. She will pick up her own pieces. Put them into place.
She was fragile.
But now she is found.
Pieced together the broken.
And the broken;
Now forever bound.
r.t.
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.
If you want to talk to him: go ahead
Dial his number and press call
But when he feeds you the same lines again be careful not to fall.
Life’s too short to worry.
Does he miss me?
Or did he move on?
But if you find out he does miss you, be careful not to fawn
If you’re still in love with him; that’s okay.
Just protect yourself from the games he plays.
Don’t let yourself break
Don’t let yourself fall.
But by golly if you want to see him, Just call.
r.t.
A glass frame of mine.
A glass frame of mind.
Staring in at a stranger
Stranger staring back
My mind as good as shattered
Beauty scarred with cracks
A reflective type of window.
A respective type of window.
Distorted truth
Claimed it’s credibility like a crook
Hidden behind a lie
Can’t get back the toll it took
We speak without words
And breath without air
Our hearts compose without beats
And we shine without glare.
The earth seems silent
whenever we are together
The loudest of silences
Forever and never
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.
If I write you into my world
Then I haven’t given you up.
I tear pages of you from my heart
Erase paragraphs of your existence
I try to rob myself of your presence
And still I seem to cry tears made up of your promises and
breath air polluted with your words.
If I break my own heart waiting for you
And scribble it on a page
Then I haven’t forgotten you yet
You don’t know the color of my eyes
The taste of my lips
or the pigment of my cheeks
when you say hello.
If I write myself senseless stories of you
Being everything I ever wanted
Then your breath is still in my lungs
I exhale.
Trying to expel your beautiful taste
that has become far too addictive.
I choke on good intentions.
And bleed desperation.
Desperate to forget about you. Desperate to no longer depend on that smile to set my day into motion
and that voice to lull me to sleep.
I try so hard to erase you from my mind, to cleanly reap the seams
binding you to my heart,
and binding my heart to my sleeve.
It wasn’t until looking you in the eyes
for the last time that I realized,
my inability to form
a coherent thought about you
unless it was spilled across paper in permanent ink, was the tangible prison destined to tie me down for all eternity.
You see, I had erased myself from the pages of your book, only to find that you cluttered every chapter of my own.
r.t.
An empty love.
Filled to the brim with high hopes.
He’s put his heart in plastic palms
His faith in paper souls
Searching for something real
Deceived by playing roles.
He’d tell her she looks pretty
She’d compliment him back
His breath was empty promises
His heartbeat hollow cracks.
An empty love requited
Better than a full one that is not
He fell for empty promises
Sought out beauty instead of thought
Why must he constantly seek a love
A full one to the brim
Then constantly settle
for an empty love
A love so paper thin.
A petty, plastic, cracked glass love
A hollow, skimpy, half assed love.
He deserved a love so full above
The brim that is unmet.
But settled for the easy love
His broken safety net.
He gave himself away too quick
Spread himself too thin
Looking for love outside himself
Before finding it within.
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 hate myself for loving him
I fall a victim of his idle grin
His jokes are tasteless
His words are vain
But when I’m with him
There is no pain.
Just the subtle sting of wanting him mine.
I hate myself for giving him all my time.
I’ll write a letter to you every day that you’re gone
The words flow like blood dripping out as they’re drawn
A letter to you
Every day that I miss
A confession of heartbreak
Sealed with a kiss
r.t.
“I’ll always secretly wish that the honor of being my first love went to someone more noble, honest, and deserving. I would never want to relive the 6 years of my life with you, especially if it would’ve ended in the same pain and destruction. But even though my heart sometimes fills itself with regret at allowing myself to become so misguided by my blinding love for you, I understand it was all necessary. It was necessary to surrender myself to the suffering you caused me to grasp the importance of knowing my own worth. To understand that I must put myself before anybody else. For the rest of my life the scars you left on my heart will shake when I think of my first love. But they will guide me in making decisions that will fulfill me. I have taken a lot of lessons away from loving you, like following my intuition and respecting myself enough to remove myself from toxic situations. And understanding that the way you treated me is the stark opposite of what I deserve. Most of all, loving you taught me that you cannot have bliss without suffering, simply because you do not know what true happiness is without feeling the deepest sadness.”
— s.c. { i will be happier than i’ve ever been and i owe it all to the way you destroyed me }
there is a place in my heart
that you will forever occupy
just as there is a space in the sky
for each and every doomed romance -
love, that was never destined to be
-i guess we had different definitions of “forever” c.r.
i wish i could say i haven’t dreamt of you nearly every night since you forced me to say goodbye in order to save what remained of my shattered heart
-for all the love that used to be here, and the empty space left in its absence c.r.
you were as beautiful as a midnight rose
so i suppose i should not have been surprised
when i finally fell onto your thorns
and bled out at sunrise
-even the stars go out eventually. c.r.
being with you felt like a dream
you were there and gone in the blink of an eye
now you only exist intangibly in hazy memories
i’m not so sure you were ever real
it was beautiful.. then it wasn’t.
-i wish it was as easy to forget you as it was to fall in love with you. c.r.
are you telling her how much you love her, right now?
are you telling her that she’s your favorite person?
that she’s your everything?
are you telling her all the things you used to tell me?
the way you hold her hand-
the way you look at her-
it makes me want to scream.
because that’s how you used to look at me.
-i wish i could hear you say “i love you” one last time. c.r.
and what is there left to do when we’re strangers again?
when the single worst fate that i swore would never, ever come to pass, has?
there’s nothing quite as painful as looking into the eyes of someone you once loved and realizing that there’s nothing but distance between you two, now.
-forgive me, my love. c.r.
and would being in your arms still feel like coming home?
even though i’m not welcome there anymore?
-it was easier when i didn’t have to wonder if you loved me or not.c.r.
