When I looked at you
in that blue light shining on your eyelids
Almost making you look transparent
I swear I heard a voice telling me
what God wanted me to be.
That you somehow had gotten it through my thick skull.
Because I can't see or touch God,
but looking at you,
reminded me I wasn't alone.
And I kneeled near my bed every night
Praying something would exist
Not to save me or fix me
Because I don't need any of that
I just wanted something to make me feel less alone
When I laid my body down onto the earth
I swear the soil took it over
and led me to
Where everything ends and begins
My hand trembles less
And I'm not afraid to speak in front of you
I remember how I felt something when I looked into the Oregon Sky and how the mountains seemed to never end, and they filled up the sky and it made me feel full.
but when I look into indianas Sky, it's empty and so am i.
My creative writing teacher told me, I was very observant, and seemed to care about others a whole lot. She always writes on the top of my poems, "very creative" I don't feel like I'm anything. Especially creative. Because if poems hadn't been trendy in middle school, I wouldn't be a poet now. And that scares me. I don't know which parts of me are real. I started photography because it was the cool thing to do, I become interested in art because I guess I wanted to feel what others felt when they looked at the individual paint strokes, and I went on dates at the art museum and stared at the paintings more than my actual date, which isn't poetic at all. Now I go alone and sit in the whisper room for hours because everyone I take it there thinks it's too creepy, I write down what I hear and sometimes put it in poems. I think I hear what I'm actually thinking. Because my brain usually shuts that out and I hear what I want to hear. They say write what you feel, what you've experienced, what you love. I feel sick and sad when I remember the past, and I don't know what I love. And then they tell me to write happier but I don't feel that way.
I wish the ground could swallow me up. I want to be able to touch the world but I feel like I can't breathe. How will I ever change the world, if I can't change myself? Because I look in the mirror at 12 am and I wish I could crawl out of my skin. I wish I could write love poems and draw smiley faces all around my paper. But the happy parts in my poems are usually made up. I add them in, to make it seem like I'm a lovable important person. I think everyone sees right through me. Flowers grow under my body and push through the soil. If they can grow, so can I. I am far from happy and I write it all down because I will not lie to myself. I'm alone.
released September 3, 2016
all rights reserved