Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

“God made me tenderly, with love in every stitch, and how did I repay that care? I forced God to watch me as I ripped open every last seam.”

No matter how deep I go, I can’t cut it out. I was fighting against the red, but as it slowly faded into black, I caught a glimpse of the truth.

I’ve spent so many years living on a razors edge that I stopped fearing sharp objects altogether. No, maybe I was never afraid in the first place. A cut is just a cut.

It only hurts for a moment.

It only bleeds for a moment.

It will sting in the shower for a day or two.

It will form a scab overnight.

And, in a months time, only a faded red line will remain.

By the end of the year, that line will have started to turn pink. Another year, another shade lighter. 20 years later and you’d need a decently bright light to find those first few lines.

20 years, huh? I’ve been doing this for 20 years? Is that a long time? I have no idea if that’s a long time. That’s a crazy amount of time though, right? If I stop to think about it, it really is pure insanity.

I’ve never gone from one birthday to the next without making a new cut.

I’ve never opened presents under the Christmas tree without seeing the scars I carved into my body by choice.

I graduated from high school and college during the month of June, and on both occasions I was worried my robes wouldn’t be long enough to cover my arms past the elbow, so I wore a long-sleeved shirt to be safe.

I can’t remember anybody embracing my body before I ruined it… I know I was hugged before these scars though… pictures all over my parents home show a round, smiling kid being held and hugged and kissed by so many different people… and I can’t remember any of it…

I feel like I stole something from all those people. I did, didn’t I? I stole that child from them…

I wish I could give it all back to them. I wish I could reverse time and stop myself from making that first cut.

But I also can’t remember that first cut… so I guess I never could have escaped this fate, right? Am I right?

Can’t somebody, please… just tell me I’m right…

Posted in My Daily Adventures, My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

I started this blog 1 year ago. At that time I hadn’t planned on still being around after 1 year, but the fact is I’m still alive, and that has to count for something.

WordPress reminded me today that I have been blogging for exactly 1 year. I didn’t think this blog would do that much. I didn’t have any social media profiles back then, and I was alone. I figured my blog would get 0 followers and nobody would ever read a word I wrote. But as time passed, I found out that some people did want to read the things I wrote. Some of those people were even kind enough to give me feedback on my writing. I hit 50 followers and was really shocked. I mean really, I wasn’t sharing my work on Facebook or Twitter, nor was I becoming an Instagram poet, but I was finding people who read what I wrote anyway. 50 turned into 100, and just today I hit 232.

232 people I have never met, but people I now know. I love coming here to post my work, but even more than that I love coming to this space to read what others have posted. It’s so varied, so many different voices from every corner of the globe. It’s every human emotion, sprawled out onto my computer screen, and I have the pleasure of reading through it all at my own pace.

I wanted to say thank you to everyone who follows my blog, and to all the blogs I follow, because they are willing to share their hearts and souls with the world, and I find that beautiful. If you would, please consider sharing my blog with those whom you think might enjoy some of my writing. I know I’m not a real writer, but I love writing, and I have enjoyed sharing it, and would really like to keep going, to keep growing, and to see where this path might lead me.

Again, thank you to everyone who follows my blog, I am forever grateful!

Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., Poetry, The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

“I’m not going to waste my time screaming into the void. I’m going to find you, plant my feet, and from my own mouth, say the words I need to hear the most.”

I wish I could tell you

How much I miss you

Without it having to feel

So pathetic.

 

I don’t expect you

To return to me

Any of the things

I gave to you.

I just want a chance

To say the things

I’m still feeling.

 

You don’t have to listen.

Even though it’s your name

Whispered between my breaths,

You don’t have to listen,

Because those words

Aren’t for you.

 

I want to tell you

How much I miss you

Because I’ve finally learned

How different that is

From feeling like

I need you.

 

So I miss you,

But I don’t need you

Anymore.

Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., Poetry, The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

“For all the feelings I’ve managed to capture in my words, I’ve never managed to write down anything that could compare to the feeling of kissing you.”

Our kisses were the best.

From the very beginning,

When they were shy and unbalanced,

To spending whole evenings

Buried in each others faces.

Those exchanges were wonderful,

And time made them unforgettable.

Kisses through the Summer,

Seasoned with familiarity,

Containing a dash of desire,

A sprinkling of passion

And the unmistakable rush

Of a blossoming love.

Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

“I craved a home for my heart, and in my rush to find it, I ignored the tiny pieces I was leaving behind with every step I took.”

I have a lot of things I wish I had said, but even more things I wish I hadn’t. I’m stuck in this strange realm between biting my tongue and using it to flick poison in your general direction. I’m caught in the middle, and I keep settling things with a coin flip, leaving it up to chance.

But flipping a coin isn’t as fair as you’d think. Sure, it seems like it should be random, but nothing is really random. If you understood every force impacting that coin, you could accurately guess the end result of a flip. If you could calculate the effect of gravity, how much force is behind the hand initiating the flip, and the when and where it’s landing, then it’s not going to be left up to chance.

It’s the illusion of freedom.

The reality is the second I decided to flip that coin I made my decision. So what happens when I am stuck between remaining silent or screaming until my throat is ripped in two? Well, fate takes a backseat, destiny decides to call off for the day, luck and chance have prior engagements, and serendipity just straight up fucks off.

I flip that coin, accepting the results. But I know…with heads or tails, it doesn’t matter. Because it will always land on a decision I will regret…silence or screams…they both end the same for me, so why even bother…it doesn’t fucking mean a goddamn thing, so forget it, forget me, and just…fuck everything man…fuck…

Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

I often wonder what these words would feel like now, rolling around in my gut, but I’m pretty sure I keep this bottle open so I’ll never have to find out.

The words rise from the walls of my lungs in a rush of warm breath. I can feel them, every syllable, every tiny edge they have etched into this heart. They brush up against my teeth, and my tongue feels awkward in my mouth. I don’t want to stutter, but these sounds have no patience, and my lips are pressured open in a way that ensures an awful start. But my eyes, they have found something worth all of the attempts my life can produce, if only to make sure my conviction, my feelings, are crystal clear. My body finds it’s balance as my heart, that felt sure to run away, is suddenly still, as if to ensure that erratic beating won’t drowned out my words.

It’s only a few seconds of my life.

It’s not guaranteed to be forever.

It’s only 3 words out of millions.

It’s not guaranteed to be reciprocated.

It’s only one complex emotion in a sea of similar sentiments.

It’s not guaranteed to lead to a happier life.

It’s only another person.

It’s not guaranteed this person is the right person.

 

But still…

 

Right here, right now,

It’s forever for the seconds before and after.

It’s 3 words that tell my entire story.

It’s one emotion that tells the rest of me who I am, and who I will be.

It’s not just another person. It’s her. It’s only her. It was her yesterday, it will be her tomorrow, and it will damn sure be her, standing in front of me, whom I let these words loose for.

You have me, all of me, my darling.

~I love you.~

Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., Poetry, The Modern Classics

“I gave you a world of words, not leaving myself a single letter. So now I am speechless, and you’re just drowning in alphabet soup.”

I wanted to take my time with each word I wrote for you. I wanted to be as deliberate as possible, so everything had to have the perfect amount of weight. When you would read my letter you’d be able to hear my voice, like I was lying right there beside you, You’d have no doubt, even for a second, that you weren’t loved. I wanted to give my world of words to you every single day.

I wanted to give you so much…but I was pretty stupid, huh?

I was so lost in thoughts of you that I actually lost my way and stopped wondering if my words were what you truly wanted. Before I knew it I had given you everything, without ever asking if it was to much. I left myself empty, and expected you to fill me up, but that wasn’t your job. If I had taken even a second to think things through I would have seen, would have realized…

I wasn’t giving you love and care, I was giving you the world, and with the world comes gravity, and it just weighed you down, didn’t it? I gave you a world to balance on your shoulders and still wanted to give you more. And so I become a hollow wind, nothing you could touch, and I floated away into the far reaches of space, never looking back. I saved nothing, so I became nothing.

You learned it was okay to carry only what is yours, and used time as a shed to store away those pretty little words. But I’m not much of a planner, so I never thought about what would happen if you stopped trying to be my tether. The outcome is obvious in hindsight, and it was probably also obvious in the moment, but I didn’t care.

So here I am, and here I am not, and there I was, and there I wasn’t, and I held onto everything as tightly as possible, until I realized that it’s not human hands that hold and support and nurture, but human hearts.

My heart was never that strong to begin with, but it pumped away all the same. It craved love and affection, and wanted to give love and attention. I somehow forgot about that first part, and only focused on the giving. But if all a person does is give, eventually they will be void of everything.

I became void of everything. I expected you to give me your heart in exchange for mine. I was being so unfair…to you, and to myself…So here I am, with nothing but borrowed time and borrowed words and borrowed hearts…and I just want to know where my heart is now, because it’s cold…

It’s so goddamn cold…