You know that pit?

The one that eats into your stomach

Making tiny pinprick holes

Every time you see

Their pages

And tweets

And snaps

And posts

That don’t include you?

You know that silence?

The one that follows the confrontations

You’re brave so you don’t sit back

And take their shit

No you stand tall and tell them how it feels

But every-time they still don’t hear you

And you are again the mat they step on

The reliable mat

That will always be there, no matter what

You know that anger?

As you block out them

And their noise

And their vibrant lives.

But when you do

You block out the

One part of yourself

You maybe

Liked?

You know that hole?

The one you crawled into

It was so dark

And warm

And comforting

You couldn’t see yourself

Or really anything

So why is it

That now you can’t seem to get out?

You know that girl?

The one who you knew so well

Oh you knew everything about her

She was an open book

An easy read

But now she’s lying at the bottom of that hole

With a pit and an anger and a silence

That is consuming her

From the inside

And she can’t get out

And she can’t get out

And she can’t get out

And she can’t get out

Without help.

All the time, you talk about my poetry,

Claim it's always about you,

Especially the darkest depths of it

You acknowledge that,

Yet refuse to change

So, what's the point, anyway?

You speak about my poetry,

The words that run so deep,

Gushing like scarlet blood

Once finally exposed

You think it's all about you

Well, maybe you're right

Ding, ding, ding!

We have a winner!

The prize: your daughter's heart,

Resting in shambles

As I laid down for my seventh depression nap of the day, only thought bounced around in my head. I miss wanting to be awake.

I miss the overexcited stomach of butterflies I got in grade school every night before a field trip. How adrenaline would flow through my veins and endorphins would flow through my brain simply because I would get to meet baby goats the next day.

I miss the endless whispered converstations, stories, and laughs shared every time my friends and I tried to sleep. How we would stay up to dawn, making out bodies miserable simple because our hearts didn't want the fun to end just yet.

I miss staying up all night to talk over the phone to the farway lover. How three thousands miles couldn't stop our attraction each other and we felt invincible because of it.

I miss that. Where did it go? I think it fell somewhere between the cracks of the backstabbing, the break-up, and the heartache.

Being awake means I have to face all that. I think I'd rather be asleep.

I want to be honest.

I want to be free.

But, sometimes I can’t

because addiction has got a hold on me.

How did I get here?

Why did I let it go so far?

I ask myself “Do you even remember who you are?”

I told myself I’d never be that person, that I’d never risk destroying my family. But, somehow addiction got the best of me.

I knew it was wrong.

But now I want to be different,

I want to be strong.

I want my life to move along.

No more addiction

No more substituting feelings with things that don’t belong.

I feel like I’m bad,

but I want to be good.

Come on girl,

you weren’t raised in the hood.

You’re better than this.

You’re better than THAT.

Stop wasting opportunities,

that’s what you’re doing,

and it’s a fact.

This time actually try to get better

and weather the storm.

You want to find purpose,

but, this, this is not why you were born.

You’re here to be strong.

You’re here to be free.

But the white stuff isn’t going to let that be.

Let’s move on.

Let’s give that up.

All THAT will cause is for you to be stuck.

You can do this.

You can turn it around.

Don’t let this one thing beat you down.

Go to the meetings.

Follow the steps.

Beat the addiction.

Later, you can figure out the rest.

Go be free.

Go be strong.

Go be determined.

Move life along.

Stop staying you will.

Just go and do.

Because you know you can go any direction you choose.

I tell you I love you every day

In hopes you will say it back

I tell you with my words

So that you might respond with your lips

I tell you I love you every day

To make sure that you will one day believe

That I believe

I tell you I love you every day

Because truth always slips out

You pulling me close doesn’t linger long enough

To feel my heart throbbing the feeling

I tell you I love you every day

Because I know you will eventually say it back

I tell you I love you every day

Because I never told him

And now it’s too late

With you I‘m so scared to lose

I tell you I love you every day

Because I know now not to wait

You never even read my words

felt my pages

heard the echoes in my cries

trapped in my fibers you neglect

sliced your finger on my chapters

bonded blood imprinted on my work

your deaf to the volume of my published

Sentiment

I’m standing on the edge of this cliff, screaming your name, and releasing all of these emotions just so I can move on.

I’m running and running until my legs give out and even with nothing left in me, I crawl to my feet and keep running.

I have to rip out every page in every notebook your name is mentioned in and burn them to ashes because I’m still writing about your love like it’s mine to have.

I have to take my heart and squeeze you out because if I don’t I will drown in the acid you left behind and as it burns I will still ache for your touch like its the only salve that can save me.

I need to get you out of me because I'm afraid if I don't, I'll be left holding nothing but broken memories.

with my head tilted to the ground, I miss life around me. at least that’s what hear them say somehow when not looking up the world seems to pass you by and you’re oblivious beyond the speckled flicks in the asphalt that glimmer in the sun. I never quite realized how much the world spun around me. how hours turned to days and nights to days, days to years. without looking up the colors of the fall never met my eye. the blooms from the spring never caught my attention. had I looked up I might have seen that he noticed me that when I passed by sometimes all his focus was lost. that when he caught a glimpse of my bent figure prostrated to the ground he wondered at me. he wanted to lift my face and see what was behind my eyes. what the profile was that covered by my straggly brown hair. I wonder if I had known sooner would I have looked up? looked up to see that even though sometimes though it seemed like he was moving on he struggled. that even though sometimes I could hear his laugh echo in the hollow air, that he was lonely. that he missed me? That sometimes the only refuse he took in the day was in waiting for my bent figure to pass him by. sometimes as he watched from the distance he wanted to tell her to lift her head. tell her to hold it high, tell her to be proud. but would he have loved her the same if she did that? maybe something about how intently she gazed at the ground brought them together. he didn’t know. how might I have acted had I known? some say its never too late but somehow for me, as usual, I managed to break the ideas and principles that we seem to be raised on. by the time my head was raised, he was gone. his eyes weren’t there to welcome me back to life. he wasn’t there to see what was behind my eyes. and somehow I realized that the world was just as hollow and empty with my head held high. somehow it felt more comfortable suffocating slowly underwater. it felt better for me to feel the pressure from the water burst my lungs. at least then the world felt more obvious. at least then there were no rainbows and sun to lie trying to convincingly tell me that things were going to be okay when everyone knew they weren’t. I had looked to the stars for answers and somehow all I had found in the cosmic atmosphere were jumbled patterns of unrealistic hope. and somehow looking down underwater it seemed to coax me back to reality and tell not to fight the realities of life. it told me not to fight it. it told me to let the water fill my lungs and not try to reach the top. he wasn’t there to save me anymore he wasn’t there to pull me back up anymore there was hardly any reason to resurface.

The scream

Pierced the Earth

Causing birds to scatter

And wolves to howl

As your fingers clawed my back.

My head jerked back

Exposing my neck

And your fangs pierced my flesh.

I howled with the wolves

As you drank my blood

And I finally knew.

This is love.

dread.

dread fills me from the inside out

and I am worried

my insides

might just come out...

come out like yours,

when they betrayed you

and your humble innocence.

“it’s good”

I say

but that’s a lie.

It's not good

It's really

truly

not good.

to be honest

I never thought I’d have to face this

I never thought

my senses would be assulted

to this level.

I feel my skin

squirm

my throat

sqeeze tight

and my stomach

turn.

this horror

this terror

this

raw feeling

raw smelling

and raw tasting

thing

sitting in front of me.

I can only imagine

how it felt

being

cut

open.

Stabbed in the back

after a lifetime of loyalty

only to have your insides

ripped out of your body.

No one should

ever

be forced

into the presence of this

stigmatic disgrace

“So, yeah, dad.

In conclusion,

I REFUSE

TO EAT THAT CHICKEN LIVER!”