It Starts Like This: a collection of poetry Read online

Page 2


  your mind searching through many worlds

  much too quickly for comprehension and

  everything looks familiar yet

  you do not have time to place it

  before you are onto the next thing and

  then the next and

  when your brain finally catches up to your imagination

  your head is spinning and

  you can’t wait to do it all over again because

  at long last you feel free,

  like you are in charge of any world you create

  and your mind does not stop until every last detail is down on paper.

  That is how it feels to write.

  Ashes, Ashes

  I decided to

  forget you today

  so I ripped the pages

  from my journal

  that were about you

  and tossed them in a fire

  I watched

  red and orange flames

  curl around each page

  consuming words

  I thought I could never surrender

  to a pile of dust and ash

  We All Fall Down

  you carried me gently in your hand

  a pocket-sized disciple

  nestled within the intricate lines on your palm

  I was easy to love and so you loved me

  and wherever you walked

  I was sure to follow

  and you knew that all too well

  because you walked straight for a cliff

  and stopped at the edge

  and watched me tumble

  down

  down

  down

  to where all your other followers lay

  Rhymes

  I fell for you

  the way most writers do

  admiring small details

  and poorly written haikus

  people will think it's fiction

  that I felt you in my veins

  when my blood turned to ink

  and you still consumed my brain

  I filled up each and every page

  with all my love for you

  but when the words ran out

  it seems your love did too

  Message in a Bottle

  I sent you a letter today

  written with your favorite pen

  you’ll have to excuse the smudges

  you know I write with my left hand

  I folded the page in thirds and

  scrawled your name across the top

  I tried not to make it sappy

  but once I began I could not stop

  I placed it in a bottle and

  pushed the cork on tight and

  I walked down to the beach

  in the middle of the night

  I watched it float in the water

  before the waves took it away

  here’s hoping someone out there

  will read the words I had to say

  Hidden

  come and find me

  in the corners of your mind

  hiding in the ink of your pen

  I am words

  waiting to be spilled out

  between the lines of a page

  I am emotions

  you have suppressed

  and details you don’t

  even know exist

  but you will remember

  if you just try

  press your pen against

  a blank page

  and I will handle the rest

  Mona

  I painted her on a canvas

  an etched permanence

  though time will pass

  her beauty will remain

  at the tip of a paintbrush

  poignant and moving

  slowly as to remember

  every detail

  of raised eyebrows

  and nimble fingers

  silently drowning

  behind upturned lips

  see the faint trace of a smile

  if you lean in close

  Empty

  he just can’t let her go

  it’s not the sound of her laugh

  or the softness of her skin

  that he misses most

  it’s the way she loved him

  like no one ever has

  the way she held him

  when he was hurting her

  the way she felt his pain

  like it was her own

  and he just wasn’t ready

  to let all of that go

  yet this morning

  he opened his eyes

  and she was gone

  Clichés

  I know it's cliché to say

  you were like a drug

  and I became addicted to you,

  that your lips tasted like

  bitter ecstasy,

  that I knew it was wrong

  yet I always wanted more,

  that your whiskey-colored eyes

  hypnotized me

  and I felt knots in my stomach

  if I looked away

  maybe it's wrong to say

  that you were my drug

  and I was addicted to you

  like the nicotine

  in my first cigarette

  that buried me with its

  glowing embers and

  acrid smoke

  so I won't say it

  I'll only say I never thought

  I could live a day without you

  yet today I opened my eyes

  and I have never felt more alive

  Journal

  once I sculpted you out of letters

  and carved quotes into your skin

  you became every word

  I wanted someone to tell me

  even if you said it with silence

  you let me spill tears on your shoulder

  even though it left a stain

  and you never forgot a single detail

  while I poured my heart out every day

  yet I abandoned you as I always do

  when you ran out of space for me

  and I realized as I tucked you

  behind rows of books on my shelves

  that you never asked for my eyes

  to spill tears on your corners

  and my mind to drip words on each line

  I ruined my creation,

  my sculpture born of ink,

  until I had no more tears left to cry

  Shadow

  I promise the sun will still shine tomorrow

  as bright as every day

  and the clouds will cast a shadow

  that looks just like your outline

  so I’ll stand straight within your silhouette,

  pretending you were never gone

  until dusk comes and

  the sun sinks below the horizon

  and your shadow

  disappears for one more night

  Daydreaming

  sometimes I study the rain

  I think about their journey from the clouds

  and I wonder if they are scared

  like I am scared

  and I wonder if other people

  see these things

  as I do

  especially you

  I wonder if you think about the rain

  and I wonder if you still think about me

  Dust

  when did you turn to dust

  gently soaring through the air

  hiding in the glare of sunlight

  and forging a home on every surface

  what were you before you were ash

  burning on a stone hearth

  a remembrance of the unknown

  a reminder of the words you've burned

  who were you before you were broken

  when your dreams still opened your eyes

  and you danced through each day on tiptoes

  and broke through even the darkest shadows

  Missing

&nbs
p; the earth

  never knew what

  it was missing until

  you came along

  and too soon

  the sky grew envious

  of the land

  on which you walked

  and so heaven

  opened its gates

  and took you away

  from me

  Mirror, Mirror

  I saw her once

  in a reflection

  the one that used to be me

  I barely recognized her

  with eyes full of life

  and a smile that grazed

  her cheeks

  when did I stop

  loving her

  the one that used to be me

  a mirage in the mirror

  reaching out

  with soft fingertips

  and a spirit so carefree

  and just like that she

  disappears

  a tangible memory

  of what I used to be

  before I stopped loving myself

  and my smile faded

  and I never set myself free

  Scrapes

  I am ashamed for

  saying I want you to fall

  like I fell for you

  but when you do,

  and you will,

  you’ll scrape your knees and

  dirty your jeans

  and do anything to be hers

  and you’ll finally understand

  why it was so hard

  for me to unravel my fingers

  from yours

  and watch the wind

  carry you away from me

  Colors

  my mouth burns after you kiss me

  and I don't know what that means

  because I thought I loved you

  the sky turns blue, orange, scarlet

  reflecting off the white snow

  in which my toes are buried

  my body is shivering and cold

  but there is fire on my tongue

  and in the dead of winter

  after you kiss me

  I stand in the numb air exhaling the

  smoke you breathed into my lungs

  Sting

  it stings between my fingers

  the weathered spots on my skin

  where his hands used to live

  and every time I think of him

  the pain sharpens

  and I can feel it on my hands

  my neck

  my shoulders

  my heart

  every place he once touched me

  he made sure to leave a scar

  Half Empty

  now the glass is half full

  it is sitting on the counter

  sweating down its sides

  my fingers curl around it

  leaving prints on the glass

  and it meets my parted lips

  now the glass is half empty

  and my breath fogs up the sides

  and I fear I will see

  my own reflection

  if I look too close

  so my hands let go

  now the glass is empty

  shattered

  I am surrounded by

  thousands of fragments

  and in each one there

  is a reflection of me

  I pick up the pieces

  that slice the tips of my fingers

  and I apologize for

  my own destruction

  for it is no one’s fault

  that I fear my own reflection

  Sightings

  the rain is falling so fast

  that my vision is blurry

  but I think

  I saw

  a glimpse of you

  turning the corner

  it's funny

  you know

  how quickly my life changed

  from seeing you everyday

  to crossing my fingers

  hoping

  each time I go outside

  I would

  perhaps

  be lucky enough

  to see you

  if only for a moment

  Untouched

  I am surrounded by people

  and no one to talk to

  I am a brown leaf

  in a pile of red and orange

  unnoticed and untouched

  but look closely and you will see

  the hints of color that I once was

  before I fell to the ground

  and lay there

  waiting for someone to pick me up

  and admire me

  only me

  and bring me along

  clutched softly

  in the palm of their hand

  Books

  surrounded by old books

  with withered yellow pages

  curled around my finger

  that is my favorite place to be

  silently I wonder who has read their words

  who has cried and who has laughed

  which stains are tears and which are spilled tea

  crisp pages torn from delicate binding

  yet the words do not stray

  and I am entranced by

  the infinite worlds I can create

  from a single page

  Clueless

  I laugh when I think about you

  having no clue that your words

  still slice through my ears

  and reverberate through my skull

  how you sleep soundly at the dead of night

  sprawled out under a blanket of silence

  while I drift off to the soothing

  pain of sobs escaping my lips

  And so I laugh while I carve poetry

  out of the pieces of my heart

  that were left on the ground

  and though you were the one who

  placed them there I must

  thank you for stepping carefully

  over them on your way out

  so the pieces did not shatter

  Heart and Soul

  after all this time

  I thought it was just my heart

  that hurt and

  could be broken

  but today I felt something

  deeper

  behind my heart

  and my lungs

  I think maybe

  it was my soul

  it started as a dull ache

  in my ribs

  and tightened my lungs

  so my breaths became short

  and then I swear

  I felt you in my body

  knocking on my heart

  as if to say

  I'm never letting

  you go

  Full Moon

  today I noticed I am a lot

  like the moon

  ignored and unexplored when

  I am barely there

  just a sliver in the darkness

  but when I am at my best

  full and vibrant

  that is when I am noticed

  that is when the wolves howl

  to feel alive

  Symphony

  whoever says silence is not a sound

  has never been alone for so long

  that they write a song to the

  beat of their own heart

  or memorize the

  rhythm of their breathing

  only then

  amidst utter silence

  can you close your eyes

  and hear a symphony

  Words

  when my heart aches

  it’s words that pour out

  not blood

  and these words

  are more powerful than

  the sharpest sword

  they are carved

  by desire

  and anger

  but have more beauty than

  the largest pearl

  like blood

  however

  th
ey stain every surface

  they touch

  breathing life into all

  who will listen

  Echo

  I hear your name in every sound

  but you are the loudest

  when the wind blows

  howling your name into the humid air

  and spinning up

  to the treetops

  and the birds in their nests

  echo the air

  and the branches stir

  waving hello to you

  wherever you are

  Seawater

  you erected a home among

  the shadows of people long gone

  and now you wait each day

  for the sun to rise so you can

  free yourself from the confinement

  of her haunting silhouette

  and you dream of seawater washing

  over her footprints in the sand

  so you don’t have to step in them

  why are you living in an echo

  when you are so much more

  than the words spoken before you