Can We Go Back?

We just never understood
that it wasn't about dating.
It was about friendship.
Can we just go back
to blasting YouTube videos
in your barney car at 3am
to escape the world?
Or that one time
you tried to teach me to dance.
Lets face it Ry,
I'm a white girl.
If your dancing was any worse
you could be Taylor Swift.
Remember telling me that?
Can we go back to High School
where we ruled our group
and had all those inside jokes?
Because I mean at fourteen
Black Hawk Down was terrifying!
Speaking of that movie,
let's go to another air show.
Then we can go back to the
Military Ball when i was fourteen.
That cute boy told me
I had to dance.
Did I ever tell you,
you were the first boy I danced with?
Can we go back to fighting
over candy in my bedroom?
I couldn't believe you stuck it
down your pants!
But you were even more shocked
that I grabbed it anyways.
Lets relive your 21st birthday
while we are at it.
You did realize the girls
were suppose to put on the dance
right?
No, you danced on that table
like a pro.
Can we go back to
running miles?
I hate running miles.
I'd scream I hate you
a dozen times but
you'd push me
over the finish line anyways.
I'd always tell you
I love you
after the accomplishment,
That one winter run was cold.
You forced your jacket on me
even though I refused.
You must've froze that day.
Right now, I'd even settle
for a famous Ryan lecture.
I could really use
someone to tell me
how stupid I've been,
This dating nonsense
ruined everything.
I just want my
Best Friend.

Thankful

I woke up to your call
and I almost answered it.
The green button
teased me with memories.
I checked the voice mail.

Happy Thanksgiving!
I hope its a great one
full of thankfulness
and family.

The messaged seemed cruel.
You were my family.
I curled deeper into the blankets.
I won't lie, I cried.

I replayed the voice mail
just to hear your voice.
It wasn't comforting anymore.
I pulled the blankets tighter.

Six months has passed
since that one night stand
seemed like a good idea to you.
Two months has passed
since you last called.

Happy Thanksgiving.
That's all it took
to doubt my new life.

But i won't be fooled.
I blocked the familiar number
and deleted the voice mail.
I pulled the covers back
and walk out to the snow
puffing long drags from a cigarette.

His smile lights up any room
and he opens up the door.
You never did that.
He calls me beautiful
and wants to cure the pain
he doesn't understand.
You understand it though
all too well.

Happy Thanksgiving Ry.
I hope your thankful
for your choices
because I am.
I am thankful for
new beginnings and
a smile that lights up the room.

Game Over

You played me like an amateur,

used me like a cigarette.

Your lust was so triangular,

leaving my heart in debt.

Nothing but a serial cheater

wrapped in a loving smile.

A soul sucking heart eater

turning victims hostile.

 I was just so replaceable

I’m coming home to you

You’re just so incapable -

It’s all these things you do

Your love is unattainable.

Eight years came and pasted.

You’re over me and under another.

You’re game has sure surpassed

the broken hearts you left in wonder.

You’ve messed it all up!

I shouldn’t take it personal.

But you were a great fuck.

It’s just your business as usual.

You stabbed me like a murderer,

used me like an astray.

Then left in the night like a burglar,

 but only taking your own words away.

Bad news: It’s game over

You’re lies made me sober.

Act of Kindness

Just take a look at me,

My hair is too long and tangled.

These pants are nixed

And stained with grass.

All I want is to play ball

But they say I cannot.

They pick their teams

And leave me standing there.

A Girl cannot play they say.

I refuse to cry,

Because I am not weak.

Then he sits down beside me.

His pants looked too good

For the dirt on the sidelines,

But I thought it rude to comment.

For a second he just sits there

Watching me, watch them.

“They’re pretty lame,” he says.

I smile slightly

Not knowing what to say.

He punches my arm

In a playful way.

A small act of kindness

Instilled the strength I desired

To stand out in a world

That Insist of Conformity 

I Am So Much More (Because)

Because my dad didn't fight for me

and my mom didn't want me.

Because she always had another man over,

my view of family was askew.

Because my memories are repressed

and the rest weren't very pleasant.

Because I am coulrophobic,

I didn't receive a normal childhood.

Because middle school was a bitch

and sexuality was already complicated.

Because small towns produce small brains,

I lived inside my closet.

Because I can find bottle’s bottoms

and other means of escape.

Because silence was not consent,

I had forced myself into solitude.

Because Bipolar is all too real

and so is depression.

Because giving up would be so easy,

the scars begin to show.

But! Because I dare to dream

and believe in something more.

Because faith can move mountains,

I am still alive!

 Because My God is stronger

then all the trials I face.

Because He sacrificed it all,

I know what Love is.

Because things do get better

and scars will fade away.

Because giving up is not an option,

I am not so easily defined.

I am so much more

than what the world can see.

   

 

Where I'm From

I am from off beaten paths

and lucid dreams.

Where I found my peace

or rather my  escape.

I am from the unwanted

and rebels without a cause.

Where we don’t belong

with the south that fits its stereotype.

I am from crooked cops

And they know me by name.

Where they send me home

and later I find them.

I am from broken promises

and rehearsed lines.

Where friendship didn’t mean a damn thing

and love was self-inflicted pain.

I am from Bipolar Disorder

and man your crazy.

Where it’s a poorly timed joke

or a great charity case.

I am from one too many scars

and tight bracelets.

Where no one seemed to notice

or maybe didn’t give a damn.

I am from a broken home

and we don’t want you.

Where I was never enough

and just the sum of their fuck ups

I am from a shattered heart

and still yet it beats.

Where they say Just give up

but I sharpen my teeth.

 

I am a Survivor

because of where I’m from.   

151

That shot of 151

must’ve really done you in.

Cause you’re looking at me

that way again.

Like the time we danced.

I should’ve known

that ping pong ball

wouldn't go into that solo cup.

You were too far away.

It was a silly bet

and then our shirts were lost.

The others disappeared

and we danced in unison.

 Skin touching skin,

your fingers wrapped

tightly in my hair. 

Well until you spun

Me around like a hurricane.

Sorry I puked.

But then you held me

until the others arrived.

You’re looking at me

that way again.

Like the night after the bar.

You invited me to your room

to listen to Sum 41.

We jammed out

in that empty town house,

inching closer,

your hand on my knee. 

Then you looked at me

that way again.

We kissed

and intensity flared.

 You weren't there

when I woke up.

Man, you’re looking at me

that way again.

That shot of 151

must’ve really done you in.

Impurity

My friends say

a night on the town

 is what I need

to forget him.

But the snow

continues pounding down

and the wind blows

harassingly upon me.

They don’t understand,

his mocha eyes

 are no longer here

to warm my failing spirits.

My friends say

one more shot

will cure the ache

or at least subside it.

But don’t they know

tequila is a dangerous bet

for a forth shot

at 10:43 on a Tuesday?

Especially without his

muscular arms

catching yet another

dizzy depressed downfall.

This new boy says

I’m pretty and

he would like

to buy my next drink.

But his eyes

are just a cliché blue

 of small puddles

without any depth.

I keep searching

for some kind of comfort

at bottles bottoms

in a unrelenting pace.

But the same results

continue to occur:

All that’s left is

the emptiness of your heart.

I walk back alone

and the winds have not calmed.

The snow still continues

falling down upon me.

The path should be

a pure white slate,

but its muddied

and unclean.

Doesn't he see

what’s he’s done?

His mistakes cannot

be wiped away.

And this snow

can no longer

be pure.