Sunday, November 30, 2014

Daddy.

Daddy's are supposed to be superheros.

They aren't supposed to call you "worthless" or "weak"

Daddy's are supposed to make you feel infinite..



I invite you inside this child's mind, she said you may take a peek.


He isn't supposed to make you believe you're sick when you aren't

or stir your brains up right from the very start.

.
.
.
But nonetheless, he screams his lungs into the living room air,

provoking the hot tears that peer over her red rimmed eyes

and making her insecure...even about the size of her thighs. 


Mommy tries to help

she wants to protect her,

but we all know that an injured bird cannot take flight.

It's okay mommy, she can handle this. 

Please stop crying, it's not your fault. It never was.


And how heavy a child's heart must feel

when "pop's" makes a deal

to go separate ways.

They wont ever speak,

and she knows you're counting on this becoming a forever streak.


And does daddy know, that as she lays down to sleep tonight

she debates swaying the white flag, and surrendering to this endless fight?

                                                                       As his booming words rattle his child's hollow rib-cage...

she feels her heart beat descend into a rare occurrence. 

one deep breath

two deep breaths

three deep breaths

I didn't turn out like you wanted me too.

None of us did. 

yet I seem to be the only punished kid.

and I know I'm right, I can see the truth reflecting in my mothers sunken eyes.

She doesn't deny it..

So why daddy? why?

I know you don't like questions, but I'm asking anyway. I've waited 17 years for a damn answer.



You feel yourself spiraling downward, yet you're still standing on the kitchen tile.

I think I'll go to sleep for awhile.




Monday, November 24, 2014

Flat Stanley=Tin man

I have theories about myself.

my best one so far is.....




"if I only had a heart"


^^^ preach it,Tin-man.



If I'm being honest, 


sometimes I do wish I could find a wizard who could grant me a brand new, shiny heart.


One that I could start over with...


But hell, you and I both know it don't work that way. 


instead, the heart that you're given from God
.
.
.
you're stuck with.


from the time your lungs take their very first breath, to the time your loved ones


wave goodbye at your precious purchased soil.



There are no start overs.




Sometimes I want to hang up that white sheet, 

gather my particularly select audience

unlock my sunken rib cage 

and let my hearts movie reel play.
.
.
.
That way I wouldn't have to speak...anytime I do, I usually end up cutting my throat
open with the double edged memories that fester inside my head.


And sometimes, I wish that these hollow, empty, repetitive beats

would vanish. if only for a while. 




I've lost most of my heart anyways.


One for when dad decided he liked those bottles better than his family.

One for when Mom dipped out for a few years.

one for when sister introduced our family to her boyfriend, Mr.Needle

And one great big chunk for you. For all those dark things

that were said and done to me, that chunk is awarded to you.













if the Tin man survived, so can I. 


















Wednesday, November 12, 2014

I misplaced my brain last night.

        This morning, I chose to eat cheerios. I wanted to see if it could make me "be happy, be healthy"

It didn't work.

This morning, I tried to wear my heart on my sleeve, but when I pulled it out of my chest it was just a big pile of hamburger meat.

This morning, when I stepped outside my front door, I inhaled the cold air deep into my weak lungs.

I told my feet to go, we had a class to make it to on time.

Little shits never listen to me.

This morning when I woke up, I looked in the mirror and saw emptiness.

I looked in that mirror and I didn't see myself. But then again, I cant recall if I ever have.

I layed in bed, staring at my plain white ceiling with the alarm blaring for a whole hour today. I guess I may have found comfort in the repetitiveness of the beeps.

either that, or I truly have lost my mind.

When I was little, I thought I could control the weather. I'd stand in the middle of my backyard, hold my tiny arms out and tell the wind to "Stop."

I know it was coincidence, but man..it really stopped every. single. time.

The hard realization is that I don't control the weather anymore. It controls me.


same with fear. 

paranoia. 

over thinking.

My father.

..you.

This morning I woke up and realized that I don't give a damn about anything anymore.

I have yet to decide if that's a positive or a negative thing.



And this morning, I decided not to put real honey on my cheerios. 


Sunday, November 9, 2014

The Forest Dictators


Let's just you and I decide

to dictate the forest together. 

We, the couple lovers who never recovered

will plunge into the nature that we deemed ours,

and maybe trade our hearts for a day or two. 


You can start the fire while I cut the phone wires

and we will let the stars in the blackened sky crystalize our eyes.



You're my rebel without a cause

The reason I heave through corrupted lungs

 and the antidote for when I've had it up to here with you.


Lets go into the woods

put up our hoods

and shoot our teen rebellion into a middle finger 

lighting up the world around us with the sparks inside our black hearts.

I know I don't make sense but neither do you, I think we should kiss?



Lead me through the dark woods of your mind

and in turn, ill take you to the memories of my grand canyoned wrists.

You didnt know you had the power of erosion, did you?


And I know we both feel it. And I know its real.

But for now lets just cuddle on the tarp,

and let the stories behind the constellations fill our ears.


But my darling, your brown eyes are slipping away 

and your limbs begin to twitch as you descend farther

into your dream filled escape. I'll be here in the morning for you.


Will you?





Sunday, November 2, 2014

By the roundabout church we sat and mourned.


I'll miss you more than you would have guessed,

damn you death. why not take me instead?

He was just having a hard time, and you selfishly decided it would be fun to cloud his mind.

I, don't know what to say. I'm at a loss of words..praying to God..

that no more deaths occur.

Please, Oh Lord my God. If there is a God, take care of him for me.

Take care of all those I love up there,

because I am so helpless, and all I have now is a blank stare.

Death, why do you have to take so many? I wonder what his last thoughts were

 before he put that rope  around his neck...or if he even had any.

Your smile was contagious, your hair was amazing.

Personality? Crazy.

I looked forward to seeing you every day, I always knew you'd have something funny to say.

 And now that your gone, our friendship is on pause, until I get up to those pearly white gates. 

I cant wait till that day I am reunited with you all,

but until then ill be anxiously awaiting Death's call.

I've reached my limit, I miss you all more than any words can say.

 I'm wishing that soon Death will come for me, wanting to play.

I'll have to add another name to the "Deaths of loved ones" on my wall.

 Number 18 goes out to you,

Hunter Dahl.


November 2nd, 2014.

Rest in Peace Hunter.

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 2ND 2014.


Our blog posts theme this week is death. 

This morning at 8:00 am you took your last breath. 

I don't know what to do with myself, my heart feels broken.


I don't have enough hands to count the loved ones I have lost, and now having to add you to this bunch is something I don't want to do. It makes me sick knowing that only a few days ago we were talking and laughing with each other. And now I'll never see your smiling face in these halls again.

I cant think, my mind is such a mess. I cant lose any more people. This is my limit. I cant sit through another funeral. Its too hard...I want to pay tribute to you my sweet friend. I want you to know that you were loved. You were my friend. You will be missed my anyone who had the privilege to speak to you. 


God. Why does this have to happen. I'm so sick of losing people. 

Rest in peace Hunter Dahl. We will all miss you.