"if i had been thinking, i would have taken you upstairs that night."
A few weeks ago my japanese class did a gift exchange with our penpal class in japan and their box of stuff came in today. All of the gifts had really cute messages on yellow notes. This one was my favorite..
do you just ever get so mad that you mentally insult every single thing that people do around you
"hey i finished this question" good for you little fucking brat like wow didnt anyone teach you not to boast
"he dated someone for six years,
so he’s probably looking for a committed relationship
cause that’s all he knows,” she said.
i felt like my past had been
wiped clean to everyone else
but to me
there was one bloody smudge
the kind you can’t get out, even after washing in hot water.
even after bleaching
you ruin the fabric, but the stain remains.
maybe to them it was too young to count.
but to me it just means the knife went in when i was still growing
and i grew around it.
because they didn’t see
the times i walked 6 miles home at 3am with no coat
the times he prayed over my body because he believed it was his
the times lizzie had to drive me four hours to the ocean just so i could think clearly again.
who can see clearly when a knife is twisting in your gut
and the person holding the handle
is the person you learned your life from?
who can see clearly when a knife is twisting in your heart
and the person holding the handle
is the person you were always meant to become
and she looks you in your bruised 16 year old eyes, and says
"it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay. you will be okay, you will be okay, you will be okay."
when i was younger
the way i knew i was going crazy
was when i repeated things, over and over
like a mantra
because i couldn’t handle anything else.
"i need to run away. i need to run away. i need to run away."
"gotta get out, gotta get out, gotta get out."
now the way
i know i will be better
is when i repeat the same things, over and over
like a mantra.
"you can do this, you can do this, you can do this."
"you’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay."
Do you ever wonder about how an author would describe you in a novel? Not only your appearance but the way you talk and laugh and hold yourself and all the expressions on your face?
some days there is not enough hope
for people with my last name.
some days there is no one to buy a broken lawn mower
or to pull your truck out of the mud and sleet
or to give you enough business to make rent
or to tell you “i love you” even when things are hard.
there is, instead, a crying hungry baby you can’t afford
a dark night filled with bills
a landlord who doubles your rent for questioning her
and the void that happened when all of your loved ones left.
when we ask for a drink of water
we are given a sponge soaked in vinegar.
i am petitioning you
here from my bed
to open up heaven
over my family.
"the sins of the father" is bad theology
you are not a god who is keeping a tally
tonight we just need milk and honey.
flowers and coffee.
all of the things
that make us breathe deep
and feel like You have come close.
don’t turn Your face
like You did when You were up on a cross
cause i will reach up
and kiss Your vinegar mouth.
tonight we need You
to reach down
and kiss our vinegar mouths.
i sometimes want to be in a relationship until i hear you guys arguing over dumb ass shit like
c1: whatever, since you’re obviously not taking me out to eat, im gonna cook eggs.
c2: why eggs?
c1: because i dont have any other FUCKING food.
c2: oh ok. well im gonna have some lucky charms probably.
c1: what the fuck? you’re seriously having cereal for dinner…
c2: yeah, why not?
c1: at least let me fix you some eggs.
c2: okay, just don’t put chicken in them.
c1: okay but are you gonna eat them? cause i dont want to waste my eggs.
c2: yeah, just don’t put chicken in them. -begins to pour cereal in bowl-
c1: seriously? you’re still pouring fucking lucky charms?
c1: jesus fucking christ. i can’t fucking believe you. -throws eggs she was making in the trash can and rinses out bowl-
c2: what? wait, don’t throw the eggs away. aren’t you hungry?
c1: no. you’re not fucking eating cereal for dinner. you never fucking listen to me.
c2: okay, fine, i won’t. -also throws food away-
-they both go into the bedroom and turn off the lights-
if you are real
i promise to not argue
over dumb shit like what you want to eat for dinner
and i will only tell you that you’re not listening
when it’s you and not me.
some people have a lot of control issues.
"he stresses me out so much."
it’s probably because you stress yourself out…
stop trying to control anyone other than yourself.
god’s cat call
is not like the others
that’s why it’s hard to hear.
it is not
"c’mere pretty girl"
or whispered noises
or silent kisses
or shouts coming at you from 90 miles per hour.
god’s cat call
is the wind in your hair.
it is the sound of rain on your rooftop
when rain clouds cannot be found.
it is the sound your shoes make
when they come alive in the night to go dancing on your wooden floors.
"but wait!" you say, "i have never heard these things."
so i will pray for god to unclog your ears.
do not be surprised if tomorrow morning when you wake
there are black ink words smeared into your pillows.
if you can’t read them, i will tell you what they say:
"give me a piece of THAT"
and a thousand other nameless calls you were too disgusted to answer
they will all pour out of your ears
and you will hear rain on your rooftop
even though sunlight is spilling
through the windows.
today this girl asked me if we were hiring and we are but i told her we weren’t because right now im the prettiest girl that works here and if she got hired i wouldn’t be anymore
"We have to be militants for kindness, subversive for sweetness and radicals for tenderness." - Cornel West
why does it matter to admit
that the reason i still hate you
is because you breached my trust?
because i remember
your red haired brother told you
if you loved me, you had to be prepared to help me.
you had to be prepared to hold my burdens, too.
but i don’t think you realized the weight
because you just saw it crushing me
and you thought that it was because i was just too small.
but the fact was
you were the small one.
i was bigger than you.
but you’d never let me believe that.
i couldn’t bear the thought
of bearing these burdens alone anymore
so i spilled like ink across you.
like a dog who has been let loose outside for the first time.
because you never understood
what it took for a thirteen year old to carve into her own skin at night
or for a fourteen year old to be held down by a police officer who didn’t believe it wasn’t her fault
or for a fifteen year old to run out of a house and hide in the woods, alone, until a friend picked her up
or for a sixteen year old to waste away in front of the mirror and eat only ice cubes.
but you tried to
you promised you’d help.
you swore to always be there.
so i let the burden
on your shoulders
i told you all the secrets, you hoarded them like jewels.
that was the fun part.
but eventually i had to show you
because the girl was growing into a woman
and a woman you didn’t really like, to be honest.
in bits and pieces you saw me raw.
the best and worst.
but it wasn’t worth it
it was too much.
so without warning
you dropped your side of the weight
and i started springing leaks under the new pressure
and all the while, the cry of my heart has been
"but you promised, but you promised…you swore you wouldn’t."
it doesn’t matter to me that you changed, it’s good! so did i.
it doesn’t matter to me that we’re done. it’s good!
it doesn’t matter to me that you took my firsts. it’s okay!
but even after all these years
and me figuring out all the “doesn’t matter anymore”s
my heart is still crying underneath the weight
"but you promised….you promised."
(please do not be sorry.
it isn’t so much that it was you…
it could have been anyone.)
i am bigger now
i can carry this weight alone
but i still take breaks to sit down and rest
and when i do
that’s when i hear my heart crying
that’s when i think about you.
maybe this is why
when i hear about God
and sharing weight
or even, handing Him the weight we have
in the back of my mind
i am thinking
that no one keeps their promises for long
and who knows how much heavier this shit could get next time?
sometimes i can’t help but question
the love You swore.
oh God please forgive the selfishness and unforgiveness in my heart.
can i bury my feelings
the ones i don’t recognize
the ones i don’t know the words for?
but how can i bury them
when i don’t know how to get them out
i don’t even know when they walk in the room,
i just know the signs:
loss of appetite
what is the root?
can We dig down deep together and pull it out?
but it’s a tangle
like the ones you get
when you leave your necklaces alone in a pile for too long
they all become one entwined chain around your neck.
the hole We dug feels like an ocean
and the chain drags me to the bottom.
because at the bottom, you see,
the root of it all,
well the root of it all can’t be found.
it’s the greatest trick of all
because the root is what i have lost.
what has gone missing.
and how can you recognize
something that isn’t around anymore?
something you can no longer address?
because deep in my heart there are footprints
all the intimate moments you shared with me
you know, the moments from your past that hurt you so deep like a thorn
you plucked those thorns out and they stuck in me
and then you left.
for not telling you
how deep you were rooted in my heart?