i wear you on my sleeves

i wear you on my sleeve, 

because you are all of my emotions

in one.

i’ve told you to leave,

but you just won’t listen.

but i wouldn’t want you to either,

you make me feel alive.

alive in a way that haunts me at night.

when i can’t sleep until i’ve thought of you at least a billion times.

truly, these feelings should not be crawling in my brain.

but they are.

it begins.

It begins when the sun gets low,

And the clouds get dark,

And the night grows still.

It begins when the lights shut off,

And the people go home,

And the party comes to an end.

It begins when you arrive back home,

Crawl into bed,

But must put on a show to fall asleep.

It begins when you check your phone once,

Then twice,

Then roll over and see bright flickering lights from the TV.

It begins when you find your room empty.

Void of sound,

Void of shuffling paper,

Void of annoying siblings,

Void of grumbling parents irritated with your messy room.

That’s when it hits.

The thought that has been lining the back of your skull,

Lingering in places of memory and suppression,

Slowly crawls to clarity,

Horribly clarity.

You take it down like bitter, cherry medicine.

Side effects: nausea, pain, hallucinations, drowsiness.

Nausea: the churning of your stomach from all the drinks.

Pain: the internal chewing and spitting up of your bones.

Hallucinations: your mind is the devil’s playground.

Drowsiness: a tear rolls… go to sleep.

Sleep soundly,

Your head will be pounding in the morning.

tippy toes 

a bit restless, a bit reckless.

don’t push me too far,

might jump just for fun.

you might be afraid,

but i will be free.

totally unrestricted,

diving into unconquered space,

away,

away.

oh, i’m on my tippy toes, just say the word.

Mama Said 

she told me to “let it out,”

“it’s okay to cry,” she adds.

all these years, i held it in.

all of it.

a great big ocean swam inside my eyes,

churned and spun in my stomach,

mixing with ugly truth and resentment.

so i let it out.

and it was ugly at first.

my sobs took over my body,

turbulent 

and 

true.

but then,

it was beautiful.

now i understand why a rainbow paints the sky after a dreadful storm.

a smile crept up on me and the pain floated                a w a y.

Thoughts Don’t Rhyme

i hardly have a rhyme scheme

for my poetry

because i feel like it

pushes thoughts into superficial forms.

it may sound good to the reader,

but it’s no longer flesh from my bones.

it’s neatly put into a row or stacked into a pattern

but skeletons don’t put themselves together,

they fall into a random, scrambled, beautiful, mess.