On The 365th day of Quarantine

 

It’s December

tis the season

a once a year wonderland where there’s no room for tears and fears, but it’s 2020 and 

here’s the thing

as the temperature fluctuates as much as the direction can changes directions at any given moment

all I could think of is all the Grentches outside of Christmas

how they’ve stolen more than just one holiday,

more than just some materialistic presence

how over this past year

how their spread of concurring and divide has taken over how this shit frightens me and the still young child inside that still grabs at hope like cookies in a jar for this world has proven the victim and villain, the thresholds none has overcome

the newest form of fine print

in our daily contrast constructed lives 

when people ask me

what I want this Christmas all I could really think of is my wishlist of face,

how I wish the emptiness that fills me to subside like a drought

after years with no rain, all at once and without warning

how this entire time

just like so many others I’ve been looking for a way out,

one without damning dishonor,

how to build a latter out of tinsel, 

how to build a bridge out of gift boxes and ribbon

how to construct a way out with ornament wires and candy canes

how to find a way to get those out my window bridging the gap between me and the bittersweet taste of freedom I’ve almost forgotten the taste of

the funny thing is you’d expect an artist,

a poet like me to break free from my chains and find ways to thrive,

while the truth is I’ve learned how to build a raft out of 

my own sheet of poems, 

how to keep afloat among the wave of my own covers and 

speak with the tongue of the night owl poets

It’s 2020 and all I can think about is how I can’t wait to add that one.

Rules of Heartbreak 101

They say if you don’t heal what hurt you 

you’ll bleed on people who didn’t cut you

They don’t tell you that you’ll bring the storm with you everywhere you go

even if they have already been fighting to contain their floods

how your lack of emotion and drive has expanded droughts, past any chance of recovery

That your state of denial blinds you from the fact that this game you keep playing has ended as soon as you tried to make the first move 

They say if you don’t heal what hurts you

you’ll bleed on those who didn’t cut you

that only time can heal

They don’t tell you band-aids don’t heal incisions,

that gaze doesn’t stop the crying

that pain killers aren’t the Mr. Clean magic eraser for life

They don’t tell you 

how healing is all about what you say, how you act, in your mannerisms

They don’t tell you that moving on is like taking one foot in front of the other in dry cement or getting out of a blizzard on foot

They say if you don’t heal what hurts you

you’ll bleed on those who didn’t cut you, but

never tell you that sometimes all the scares and bruises that those 

incisions left behind

seems to be all that you are and 

you’ll learn to love that,

handling the before and after on your walls like metal

nobody thought you’d make it this far

Healing Time is Reletive

 

Healing Time is Relative (4)

Einstein once said that time is relative

meaning the rate at which time passes depends on your frame of reference

the faster a clock moves the slower time passes

so for all the time that passed this year, 

people will still say only time will heal, but my problem is 

my time of self-reflection 

all my time only seemed to have stopped without you

So if time is relative then I must be frozen in time

perched on a horizon one a sun in your presence will never rise

cause if only you knew

how man feelings and encounters ill leave out while telling you about my day or when you ask why I’m feeling the way I am

If only you knew how many of my smiles were fake

how often I’d start to say something, but

bit my tongue or change the conversation all together so I wouldn’t leave myself too vulnerable o because I’ve already said so many times my feelings should be known

If only you know how often I wanted to say 

I love you, but took into consideration the timing so I’d just blush and whisper it to myself

how often I’d allow myself to say it, but desperately needed to hear it back

if only you knew how much and how fast m sorrows

vanished once in your arms

how all my traveling demons 

all my lingering repercussions of mistakes,

suddenly can’t touch me and almost disappear while with you

If only you knew how many nights I yarned for you, but fell asleep with my cat by my side instead

how many tears I had shed over you and 

how each tear is something I didn’t say to you

If only you knew all the things you don’t know,

all the things that weigh on me

all that I haven’t yet written

how I now I’ve lost you before,

how I’ve felt and fought against that pain,

lost that sleep after doing so

how I’d rather disappear in thin air

become your friendly ghost

one who’ll never allow you to feel alone ever again

before I’ll ever get close to going through that again

how I promise I won’t lose you again

elusive dreaming

 Look in the mirror, tell me who you see

it’s in your best interest, to be honest with yourself

Look in the mirror, tell me who you see

I see an empty shell of a woman

a pearless oysters held tightly in the grasp of a still young little girl

who’s still trying to find her way home

look in the mirror tell me who you see

I still see the marks the waves of one-night terror tears had left behind

I still see bruises from fear,

I still see those waves crashing against the rocks in their way

I still see them crashing against the walls of my ribs

breaking them, sharpening them, turning more of me into a weapon as they do so

I still see all the lacerations they all left behind

Look in the mirror and tell me what you see

I still see a little girl,

a still young little girl whos still very much cradled, 

rapped inside the woman she’s supposed to be

like a cocoon that already let the butterfly out, yet keep the caterpillar 

I see a queen who still sees herself as a princess stowed away inside

I see the tower and its captives

I see my silhouette staring back at me

Don't Like It, Change It

 Look in the mirror, tell me who you see

it’s in your best interest, to be honest with yourself

Look in the mirror, tell me who you see

I see an empty shell of a woman

a pearless oysters held tightly in the grasp of a still young little girl

who’s still trying to find her way home

look in the mirror tell me who you see

I still see the marks the waves of one-night terror tears had left behind

I still see bruises from fear,

I still see those waves crashing against the rocks in their way

I still see them crashing against the walls of my ribs

breaking them, sharpening them, turning more of me into a weapon as they do so

I still see all the lacerations they all left behind

Look in the mirror and tell me what you see

I still see a little girl,

a still young little girl whos still very much cradled, 

rapped inside the woman she’s supposed to be

like a cocoon that already let the butterfly out, yet keep the caterpillar 

I see a queen who still sees herself as a princess stowed away inside

I see the tower and its captives

I see my silhouette staring back at me