Lay Me Down

This couch is a coffin, my body a corpse

I feel nothing, I see nothing, I am dead

The rain slashes on the window panes,

but behind the mist and clouds

the only assurance that it is truly there is the sound

The sound that rings in my head like bells

The sound that pumps my body with motivation to keep staying still

Lie down like the shell of a human I used to be

Lie down,

          go to sleep,

                      go to sleep

Become the corpse and the dead and the sleep

Become the body without a soul, the lifeless hollow reflection of what used to be

Fall down into the pity that was once lathered on my skin and drown,

drown in the eternal slumber of the pitiful

The bells ring louder, sounding the alarm of my decent

Into the ground, under, where the worms can seep into my skin

The grass will grow over my coffin to hide any sign of my existence,

I’m just a ghost

Down

                   Down

                                          Down

                                           Sleep

                   Sleep

Sleep

Godzilla

STOMP. STOMP. STOMP.

Hold onto your possessions , passions, and parts, because Godzilla is in town and she is stomping on everybody’s parade.

A poem that I think I wrote

Here’s the thing… I have no idea if I wrote this. I found it in my Google Drive folders, and no one is added to the document, but the words seemed to have flown from out of nowhere and I can’t identify it. Maybe I wrote it in a fever dream, or maybe someone borrowed my computer for a class. I can’t remember. But the poem is truthful so I figured I’d share it anyway.

Creativity seems to stem from pain,

Is that why I keep running into storms?

If I bleed like the rest do,

Will my canvas look as nice?

If I sprinkle my bones between the pages,

Will I too create a masterpiece?

When my tears hit my instrument,

Is that when I will see sucess?

To be hurt gives us motive,

To be happy makes us dry

Slash the wounds harder just for the results

At least then I will be proud of something

Let the highway be my sidewalk,

Let my body be the sheild

Once I feel more than nothing

Maybe then I will be able to write

Be able to say more than I’m fine

More than the mediocrecy society rejects

In this life, the only way to the top is having a good sob story

In this life, everyone has a sob story

So how do you compete?

How do you compare bullet wounds?

Before long we will all be dead

Isn’t that what they want?

Isn’t that what you want?

For me to drown in a river but live to tell the tale

To burn my skin and take a picture

I’m not a monster for thinking this way,

I’m just desperate

How else will I make it to the top

How else will you look at me with reason

If that reason is pity, at least you are still seeing me

At least my art is still seen as art

At least I am not just another dot on the map

First

You stole my first kiss.

Twice in fact.

It’s a hate love world

Maybe some people weren’t cut out to be around people. They were hardwired differently. So the words hug or hold or touch made them feel nausea rather than love. So the idea of being close to someone –anyone– felt like being trapped in a small room, walls closing in.

Plan B: Run

I used to tell myself I wanted a secure life. Live at home, commute to school, maybe stay on campus for some activities, and then return to the bed I’ve slept in since age 4. I would stay close to the friends I know will understand me, at least to a degree. I would be able to help my parents with my siblings and my dog. Maybe I’d pick up more chores, help more in return for my extended hospitality.

You Dropped Your Brownie

Your stomach drops. The small room starts to fill up as you and your friends scramble to collect your things. You all should have been gone 10 minutes ago, but you ran late and now you pay the price.

Am I lazy?

Lazy. It’s a name I call myself, but is it accurate?

Reflecting on 2018

Every year I watch myself grow as a person. The girl I was last January was completely different than the one sitting here prepping to welcome 2019. As my last post for the year, I’m going to walk down memory lane and take a look at my 2018 journey.