#spilled tears

‪i want someone to be so in love with me that they protect me from their own anger ‬

‘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 #

‘strip the fruit, but do not tear the branches;

leave me my roots—

I will flower again.’

'in time,’ - Megan’s Poetry #1277

‘replace the puppet strings with ribbons,

tie them in a little bow—

now you can yank as you like

and she will never know!’

'puppetry,’ - Megan’s Poetry #1276

‘I ​see her in my mind’s eye, that sweat-soft starlet. ringlets clinging to her swan neck,

dark hair bleached gold

beneath the soft glow of the morning Sun—

lips stained purple, dress bruised red.’

'life of the party,’ - Megan’s Poetry #1275

‘is love winged bliss, or steady ground?—

maybe not;

but, I know, it is not so

an unstable path as this.’

'falling,’ - Megan’s Poetry #1274

‘I am proud to have practiced loving;

I am proud to know you to your bones—

I am proud to know which tendons to pull

and which to leave alone.’

'to be known,’ - Megan’s Poetry #1273

‘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

‘and I love the portrait

but never the man—

when away,

I keep it in my pocket,

cased in an ornate golden locket,

and look at it,

whenever I can;

when finally the journey is over

and no longer we are parted—

I remember how much I longed to leave,

that his presence leaves me broken-hearted.’

'the locket,’ - Megan’s Poetry #1266

‘you weigh yourself out in pieces—

tiny morsels, bites of nothing

that regardless make you bleed.

just when you’ve rationed enough to make the scales even

they change the recipe.’

'day to day,’ - Megan’s Poetry #1265

She could part oceans in two with her loving nature but there was a devastating loneliness in her eyes when she smiled.

~Fruitless Hope~

Now I’m sitting on this roof

Woken by my dreams of you

My soul is aching, shoulders bruised

From carrying the weight of you.

I fell in love,

Then f

e

l

l

to earth;

Yet still I hope for our rebirth.

~Reigh Lynne

Words have power.

I come from a background where so many people have wandered in and out of my life, speaking to, at, over, and into me and my journey. Some negative and some positive. Some curses and some blessings. Some false and some true. I really struggled with comprehension and gaining a proper understanding of their impact. It wasn’t until I listened to the small whisper and discovered my own narrative, that I was able to “chew the meat and spit out the bones” of what occurred in the past and come out of it a better person.

So, cheers to the struggle, the discoveries, and the journeys this life has brought me. I am proud of myself because I did everything everyone said I never could. I became everything I’m not to truly become everything I am and will become…Now, I can add self taught “Writer, Poet, & Author” to my resume. Except, this isn’t just what I do but, a part of who I am. This dream is now a reality. I have seen something spiritual become physical and manifest it’s blessings to those around me.

My first poetry collection - ETHEREAL LOVE by Kid Gills - coming really soon.

And I want to believe that I’m not mad. That being sad is only for sad people. I’m not like them? I’m worse. Crying here in my lonely world praying that the sun consumes my tears before nightfall - before what’s ugly in me keeps me awake, on edge, gasping the bitter darkness in this world which chokes me.

@writewhatyousee

We’re over, but so is the self-destruction
You leaving lead to my one man production

Solitude made me realize I can’t do this alone
But instead of dumping it all on you, I went and picked up the phone

You’re the reason I got help.
I wish I could tell you.
I hope you don’t hate yourself.

Hey, at least I’m not playing games with your heart
It’s always “this or that”, always been like that from the start
I’ve told you that we could play together, but you always say no
Tell me to my face it’s fine, then you shoot these low blows
Funny, seems like you like playing games too.

But we can’t play my games, no, it’s all about you
“This or that?” Fuck that!
Demanding all my attention makes you a spoiled little brat!

We were like gold
Until you were told
I needed basic respect
Then, you sold us down the river
Said our love was worth its weight in gold

So, you cashed it in for profit
But, there were no takers
And you’re still the victim, it seems!

Some days I can’t resist the temptation to torture myself with the memories of you.

Excerpt of a book I’ll never write #204

I miss your handwriting. Is that weird? That I miss the way you wrote my name and the slanted and angular way you wrote the words that both stole and broke my heart.

Excerpt of a book I’ll never write #202

I tried. I know that you know that, everyone does, but I failed. For some reason to me that feels worse than if I hadn’t tried at all, if I hadn’t been there for you, if I hadn’t held your hand and gave you hope. I tried, I’m so sorry that I did because it didn’t make any difference at all in the end.

Excerpt of a book I’ll never write #201

I consider her my first child. The first one that I sacrificed for, cooked meals for, explained homework to, watched out for. I mourned her when she left for college, proud and strangely sad. I took her crying phone calls when classes were hard. I comforted her, protected her, encouraged her and when others told me this wasn’t how it was supposed to be I ignored them. They didn’t know. Who else was going to be her mother? She’s grown now, we both are, and she has kids of her own. She does the things I did with her, the things our mother didn’t. She bakes Christmas cookies, goes camping, travels, and she cooks them meals, explains their homework and protects them.

I consider her my first child and I am proud as hell of how we both turned out.

I wish people were more careful with things they can break like hearts or people.

Excerpt of a book I’ll never write #198

We still say I love you, like it means something. Like the words are strings that keep us tied together. I’m unsure if we mean them anymore but we say them, out of habit and a little out of fear of what it would mean if we stopped saying them. Somedays, I love you, and others I don’t think I do, but no matter which day it is we both still say I love you.

Excerpt of a book I’ll never write #196

It’s time to get out. And I know this. We are long past good and into something unfamiliar and unpleasant. I know that, but my heart keeps saying, “just a little longer.”

“You’ll waste your life waiting,” logic reminds me.

And I know this but the hope and the what ifs push me forward. “Just a little bit longer,” my heart reminds me, and I wait knowing I’m delaying the inevitable

Excerpt of a book I’ll never write #193

We haven’t spoken for a couple of months after I left, because I was losing myself in the process of loving you. We were toxic for each other, we both know that. But all I can remember is the beautiful moments and laughter we shared. And looking back at those moments, I suddenly forget why I left.

I can’t listen to shitty breakup songs about you leaving me, because I am the one who left. You drove me to the point where I just couldn’t take it anymore. And that doesn’t mean that I don’t love you anymore, it just means that I lost myself in the process of loving you.

Every night I try to remember the time we were happy together. How we stared into each others eyes and couldn’t believe this love between us would ever fade. But now I’m alone with a hole in my chest. Your love for me did fade, but my love for you never did. So here I am, feeling incomplete, while you move on with your life without me. 

You always told me I shouldn’t worry about her. She was just a friend, you said. I notice the way you talk about her with that spark in your eyes. You used to look at me like that. What did I do to deserve your betrayal? Am I not good enough?

I can’t believe how he could just betray me like that. I’ve done nothing but support and love him no matter what, with only disrespect in return. I’m unsure about a lot of things, but I’m certain I did nothing to deserve being treated like this. That’s why I have to walk away now.

I will always choose you, in every lifetime, but you won’t even choose me in one. And I know I cannot love you into loving me.

“never despair, always persevere”

-don’t quit

“let my arm bleed and ink come out. ”

Alexander J. Bones

Hey guys I’m going to be moving my content primarily to YouTube since the changes for creators on Tumblr. I don’t really care for what is happening to the platform too much. I do hope you consider following me on this journey still. Thank you all so much.

Laughing-

It comes easily with you.

It’s the kind of laugh

That brings a smile to my face

Hours later.

-b.m.