"Yellowed Pages"
Wednesday, February 10, 2021
The Best at Faking
Sunday, December 6, 2020
6 feet apart.
Have you ever had an emotion so big. So all consuming. So life changing. Altering. Defining. That you literally cannot feel it? You look back and you try to recall it. And it's just nothing. A void. Even specific parts of the memory, the feelings, are gone. It's just empty.
My brother died when I was 13 years old. He was hit by a car. But I can't feel the emotions associated with Jordan dying. Is that normal? That can't be normal, right? It can't be what they call "healthy"? There has to be some way to tap into that part of my soul and feel it. I WANT to feel it. I WANT to remember him. To hold the memories of us in my hands and see every side of it. Every perspective. To reflect on our relationship. Our conversations. Our bond. I want to remember his face. His voice. His mannerisms. His laugh. Him. I want to remember him. But I can't.
Is this what it is like to be broken? That some parts of my life. Are so BIG. So damaged. So dark. That my mind just erased them. And every feeling associated with it. I want to remember him. I want to grieve for him. For this amazing thing I lost. I want to be the kind of person that can look on my brother with fondness and with longing. But I'm so damaged I just erased him. Who deals with emotion like that? Who holds their pride so closely that they pass off numbness and nothingness as some kind of badge of strength. I'm not strong. I'm just pathetic. My entire brain has blacked out parts of my LIFE. Not just parts. But integral PEOPLE. Erased them. Because actually feeling the pain of losing him was too much for me. What would that pain have felt like. Initially there WAS a type of pain. I remember that much. But it's all hazy and muddled. I wish I could even feel THAT watered down maybe pain now. Anything would be better than nothing.
Stale Coffee and Antibacterial Hand Gel
-Jillian Whitney
My life has been torn apart,
as if it were a fresh juicy slab of meat a tiger has torn to shreds.
I retreat into a tiny ball on the floor holding my bleeding heart.
The sick are rushed past me on their soiled beds.
A few nurses stroll by, but I go unnoticed as I break into a cold sweat.
I try to hide my face and bid all farewell,
burying it in the rigid, scratchy carpet.
It smells of stale coffee and antibacterial hand gel.
I’ve heard crying helps but no emotions will surface.
Weakly I pound my fist into the foul carpet, but still I feel nothing.
I curl further into his favorite sweatshirt; my new special place.
I exhale harshly trying to force out all the vile smells that cling.
He was my favorite smell;
Brute deodorant and sweat.
This place makes it different like a mutilated cell,
it’s weaker, as if I already should forget.
I turn my shell of a body towards the gray, dank hallway wall.
Silently I pray, “Stay with me. I can’t be without you.
You took him. Give me the strength to at least crawl.
I’ve become that story of a broken heart with no glue.”
I stare at the wall blankly. I feel nothing. I hear nothing. I want to yell.
I smell stale coffee and antibacterial hand gel.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
I Feel her Filth in my Bones
I feel the filth in my bones.
All the way through.
I try to wash myself clean so often.
Scrubbing every single part of me,
bleeding out.
My life has looked the same for so long;
move forward,
stand tall.
I beg Him to slow me down
rest my weary hands,
bend my stiff knees,
lay my face down in the dirt.
but His face is white with burning flames
my eyes water looking deep within His blood-stained retinas.
Etched, raw into every contour of His flesh is my blame.
Desperate to fall,
my knees at his feet;
they sparkle like shards of glass.
I'd give it all up
slow it down,
kiss his feet. I pant with a thirst so deep
bloodied sword,
broken past.
Fighting the urge to run away;
ripping apart all that is good in me.
Slow it down,
offer empty hands.
He bleeds.
I cry aloud, "No longer can I hold this shame."
At Your command the world is still.
"No longer can I be the same."
The one sitting upon the throne is as brilliant as gemstones.
He is the answer to all that is unknown.
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Daddy
Saturday, June 16, 2012
Another Story.
The Sweetest Kill
And all the time we thought we did
Was it just for show?
If they try to pull you out
Would you even go?
I thought you were the sweetest kill
Did you even know?
I held your hand until the light
The scars were on the back
And all the time we were the right
Was it just retract?
And they can try to put you down, wear you out
Get you through the idea of the luck
I thought you were the sweetest kill
Did we even know?
All the time, we get by, trying to figure out our lives
Like a fade out
All the time, we get by, trying to figure our lives
Like a fade out
When we took the level ten
Was it just a twelve?
And when we went to where we've been
Was it just for self?
And they can try to wear you down, put you out
Get you through your will, that won't work
I thought you were the sweetest kill
Could I even know?
All the time, we get by, trying to figure out our lives
Like a fade out
All the time, we get by, trying to figure our lives
Like a fade out
All the time, we get by, trying to figure out our lives
Like a fade out
All the time, we get by, trying to figure our lives
Like a fade out
I break you through this world
I break you through this world
Let me break you through this world
Can I break you through this world?