Author Archives: thenspeaksthesoul

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dead microwaves.

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Her words were cold,
like ice on a grave
but it’s hard to heat things
in a dead microwave.
She wanted to speak,
words and words
and feelings and emotions,
but it’s hard to dig them out
of the dirt once they’ve been buried.
She choked and she coughed
and she spit them out
the best she knew how.
She started a fire,
she didn’t know how to put out.
An electrical fire,
would have caused less damage –
or maybe throwing a toaster
into a lightening storm.
She was a disaster,
two steps from the edge.
The risk kept her sane,
but safety called just the same.
Stop it, stop it.
Stop feeling this way –
she screamed but the wind
drowned her out.
Maybe she’d be better off
in a hurricane with a band-aid
instead of a boat.
She could patch the last scratch
right before she went down –
they’d find her drifting
over the edge holding onto
a dead microwave.

 

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they said she was different.

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she wasn’t always brave,
nope, not nearly at all.
she was afraid –
of a lot of things
some big and some small.
she wanted to be that girl
broody and moody
on a bar stool listening
to Friday night music
and she wanted to be that girl
with her hair flying
while she’s driving
to anywhere in the world.
she wanted to be
110 million different things
a singer, a writer, an mma fighter
she was a dreamer,
a wonderer, a wanter
she was a doer,
she just needed to find
her own set of drums,
so she could march
to her own beat.
so she did,
and so she did,
and they said to her –
who are you,
my how you’ve changed!
softly she whispered,
i haven’t changed,
nope, not nearly at all
i’m just a little braver,
i’m not so afraid of things
i drive to bars with my hair flying
and i sing, because i’m a singer
and I write, because I have a story.
I’m a fighter, I’m a survivor
I’m a dreamer, a wonderer
I want what I want
I do because I can
Most of all,
I am who I am
and who I’ve always been.

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It’s hard to explain to someone, anyone, especially the someone-anyone that you love, that you are being suffocated by their presence. It doesn’t mean you love them less, just that you need to be alone. Completely alone. It’s turning the TV up really loud at 2 a.m. or eating pizza at 3 in the morning. Or taking up the whole bed. Or just driving somewhere and not having to be accountable to anyone. Hard to explain, I suppose.

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tendrils.

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He’s like an angry lover
with his hands around her throat
and his whispers in her ear.
She can feel him touching
all her secret places –
her heart
her soul
her thoughts
He’s inside her,
like the devil he is.
He finds the cracks
in her heart and rips
and rips until she can’t
find enough pieces
to make half of a whole.
He tries to suffocate her
in crowded rooms
and it’s so hard to walk
across the parking lot
when he’s dragging her down
like a ball and chain
around her neck.
No one sees.
No one notices.
She’d scream but he’s got
his hand over her mouth
and he forces her words away.
They can’t see him,
they can’t feel him.
But he’s there all the same.
She can hear him laugh,
when she tries to escape.
When she tries to be stronger
bigger
better.
One day he’ll kill her
If she doesn’t escape.
If he doesn’t let her go.
If she can’t shake him –
and she’ll have to do it alone
because no one sees
no one notices
no one.
 

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go.

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Go where you feel God,
not where they tell you he is.
If it’s a mountain where you find Him,
then get your backpack
and your campin’ bags
and start hiking His way.
If you feel God when you’re runnin’
then run until you can’t breathe
and you can feel him in your heartbeat.
If you feel God on a beach,
then why are you still here?
Go to the sand and the shore
and talk with Him a little more.
If your God is in a church,
then find yourself a pew and a Bible
and wait for the sermon to start –
or maybe you go when no one is there
so you can hear Him speak, clearly.
Go, please go, where you feel God.
If He speaks to you in the dark,
then turn off the lights.
If He speaks to you in a crowded room,
then head to the nearest
auditorium, football stadium
Go where your God leads you,
not where their God has led them.

 

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words that i felt.

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the sand between my toes
does not heal me.
there is no peace for me here.

_________________________

 

When I grow up,
I want to be brave.
I want to say the things
that need to be said,
gracefully. gracefully.
I want to do the things
that need to be done,
fearlessly. fearlessly.
I want to love the ones
that need to be loved,
fully. wholly. truly. deeply.
When I grow up,
whenever that it is –
I hope that I am brave enough
to be brave.

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July 19, 2015

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Step, step away from the bus and
don’t ever look back. They aren’t
coming for you. Ever.
Even if they did, no one
would ever want someone
like you. No one wants you.
No one wants you.
No one wants you.
So you find yourself on
some God-forsaken beach with
a bottle of bloody-fucking vodka
and you wonder how the fuck
you got so messed up.
Then you drink and drink
until the haze of yesterday
wears away and then you stumble
back to your apartment
on Fifth Avenue and
pretend nothing ever happened.
Nothing ever happened.
Nothing ever happened.

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crepe paper soul.

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she stood under their brilliance

like a mottled earth stands under the stars.

their laughter came and visited; and then,

it left with the sound of a thousand sorrows.

she stood apart, but she could still see.

she stood apart, but she could still hear.

she stood apart, but she could still feel.

 

she stood under their brilliance

like a moth is forced to flame.

she wore the souls of the burdened

like a coat made of fire.

what she saw was not joy.

what she heard was not laughter.

what she felt was not not delight.

 

her gift was not so much a gift

as it was a curse of perception.

if there was a moment in which she

would have ripped at the fabric and

released herself; it was as though there

were ten thousand.

but she would not. she would not.