losing faith

i’ve been toughing it out

for most of this year

trust me, it’s not a good thing to do

i’ve been biting back the bitter thoughts

that surface, no matter how hard i try 

to be nice, and agreeable, to nod and smile

but my thorns always seem to regrow,

and so i guess i’ll have to accept this too

i look at the stars one night, but it’s pouring with rain

i hide in the roof’s overhang, and bank on decency

tell myself

there is no mountain that i cannot conquer

if i could just want it enough

want to reach the top at any price

and maybe it’s true

but my faithless heart has grown tired

of these railroad tracks, and every time we sit down and talk

i feel so fucking old; listen to songs about nostalgia, about being sixteen

i think this is how it’s supposed to be

i lie on the ground, i look up at the vines

and i talk to my friends, my voice like a sinking stone

i’m fishing at the bottom of the pond

through leeches and silt looking for my keys

but the longer i look, the more they shift in my mind

it’s normal

it’s natural

it’s just a part of life

i’ll pull my heart out of my chest

i’ll try, real hard

and i’ll start all over again

portrait of a dying star

what if i woke up at 2am

to stinging in my throat?

what if i stumbled in the dark

looking for stupid things i wrote?

what if i etched meaningless words into my skin

dragged them through hell then back again?

what if i tripped, and fell, and broke my leg

what if i collapsed in front of you, pleaded and begged?

too tired to puzzle a logic

out of the words you say?

what if i did everything right, and still

couldn’t fall asleep today?

what if the foundation buckled beneath its own weight

and i stared up at the blue summer sky, my eyes heavy with hate?

what if i couldn’t breathe

through the twist and burn of my inadequacies?

what if i made the wrong turn, and i couldn’t come back

what if i fell asleep at only midafternoon?

what if i stayed here, still

my thoughts sinking like stones?

what if i everything i’d worked for meant nothing at all

what if i sat there on the front lawn as the sky started to fall?

and what if sloppy brushstrokes of paint could not capture the ache in my chest

what if i failed, even though i tried my best?


see her in the mirror, every now and then / or when i’m on my way to school, putting in my headphones and shutting out the world / but for a moment, i can see her brunette curls and her big sweaters / her soft, round cheeks / she sings to herself as she gloats over me / about the person i could have been, if i were braver, stronger, greater / made of iron and steel, and sheer force of will / her hair is messy, her t-shirt worn, and i don’t miss her a bit, i swear / but she doesn’t care / glaring from the car behind me at the light / she’s shouting make the fucking turn ’cause i’ve got places to be tonight / i see her at the bus stop from the corner of my eye, scrolling through her phone / she’s here and then she’s gone and then i am left alone / to fester and brood and find another hole in my favourite pair of shoes / but i’ll wear them til they’re rubber and thread / i will wake up and cry and do it all again / because i see her in the graveyard, but she’s not really dead / she’s running circles ‘round my heart / she’s wailing in my closet / writing stories in the pockets of my jeans / planting daffodil bulbs in the garden / drawing hearts on my cheeks

she never left. not really.

What is growing up if not being haunted by a thousand different versions of yourself, amirite?


sometimes i wish that people were like equations 

rules to follow, a kind of twisted logic

wish they would hold still for the portrait

while i memorize the planes of their faces

while i read up on philosophy and try my best to make it

but we all die in the end

we all crap out like cheap computers

personify our feelings

stare dead-eyed into the compact mirror

sometimes i wish you could be clearer

just tell me what i need to do 

just tell me where i’m going wrong

just tell me how i to fix you and i’ll have it done

in a heartbeat

so stop and break it down

tell me when it was you ran straight off the road

tell me when the words lost meaning

tell me when did you lose hope

and let me splint your fractured knee

let me make it better

for one fucking second, please

sometimes i wish that i wasn’t like this

half watercolour-dripping, half machine

sometimes i wish my eyes saw clearly 

and i love you didn’t tumble out of my mouth like a mistake

i wish it didn’t feel like giving something away

i wish the rain would roll off my back

i wish i took my showers cold

i wish my throat didn’t itch

but here i am, getting old


i am walking through a skeleton of poetry

that once meant the world to me

but the words are smushed on salt-stained cheeks

the words whisper through my heart

oh my god, i can’t breathe

i am walking through a skeleton

i am watching you leave

for new heights and new things

half-finished promises

you might not ever keep

i am tripping over femurs and tibia too

i don’t know what creatures used to walk this place

but i hope they left too

i hope their dreams cannot be shared within the space of my hands

i hope their days are full

i hope they get that promotion

i hope they keep the door closed

i hope they let me down gently, and i won’t let them know

that i’m sobbing on the floor

such a mess i can’t drive home

i am walking through the ashes of a world i used to know

the motivational posters and the self-help books

all the things i used to believe in, right down to my soul

it’s dull, and barren on my tongue

it’s all so fucking cold

but i’ll be fine, i’ll be fine

i’ll figure it out between 9-3:30, wednesdays

i’ll pay the long distance

holding my phone like a vice

i’ll play the music loud and take up journalling

i will talk while you still listen

i will try my best not to waste your time

when i kiss you goodnight

i’m walking through a skeleton of things that could have been

feel them well up in my chest and pool on my tongue

taste the salt breeze

i want to fold up my opinions like laundry on the bed

i want to sleep for the rest of eternity

A bit of a vent poem. Growing up is rough, sometimes. This isn’t about any one specific thing, so much as the general chaos that has been my life. I’m not really great at people to be honest, and I’m even worse at goodbyes.