keep the letters.

the letters

handwritten, desperate

pleas i handed you

you didn’t even care

enough to read

 

you kept the letters

those muddled

sleepless nights

drowning in anxiety

words that will condemn me

 

i wish i’d never talked to you

on those school steps

when you softly lied

and i believed you

because i wanted to

 

no one will love you

you don’t have a soul

sold it into slavery for

drugs, rock + roll

and your eyes are blackened

 

keep the letters

they are a past

i’d rather forget

but i hope you never forget

the soul you tried to corrupt

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

i stopped.

i stopped finding

soft, meaningful poetry

in your footsteps

and the cracked driveways

 

i stopped looking

for you

in crowded rooms

and my coffee’s reflection

 

i stopped asking my friends

if they were happy

they wear dark circles for makeup

and coffee stained t-shirts

 

i stopped living when i was sixteen

i’m looking for reason

no one can tell me where it is

or if it even exists

 

 

 

 

 

Dear Someone XXXVI

Dear Someone,

I want a new main character in young adult fiction.

One who doesn’t fall in love.

One who deals with bullies, and the worst bully is herself.

She tries to be everything everyone wants her to be, and crumbles more and more ever day.

You see it throughout the book. Her thought process.

She starts on top. Yet–page by page, negative connotations and anxiety, take you on the journey of her mind.

And, by the end she’s sitting in the ruins of her life.

She wonders how she got her, and she wants to blame everyone else.

But–you know.

It was her.

Love,

Liv

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

mind lost.

we lost our minds;

derailed and demented.

you’re still looking for yours.

i wish i could tell you where it was.

they’ve drugged mine.

to relieve the pain.

 

the peanut gallery is getting bold

whispering louder than ever

doesn’t it make you feel insane?

they’ve lost their hearts

ripped them out and filled the void

with gold and pleasure

 

don’t smash the mirror

because they criticize you

you at least have a heart

understand human emotions

sure, you lost your mind

but you can find it again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

no one cared then, & everyone cares now.

i told people. i told a lot of people.

and, they told me that this would pass.

that i was complaining.

so,

i shut up.

i hid it in journals.

i became reclusive.

you never say anything anymore.

tell me what’s going on…

no.

because, all i got was,

dramatic. you’re just trying to weird. that’s just you being shy.

and,

now it’s too late, isn’t it?

you should’ve all listened.

i was struggling. i was hurting. i was confused.

no one cared then.

i don’t need your sympathy now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

being human is getting too complicated.

I’ll never understand people.

We break, fight, gossip, and hurt each other.

We throw our sticks, stones, and words.

We fall in love, we have best friends, we make promises.

We fall out of love, we lose our best friends, we break our promises.

And, it’s by choice.

I sometimes can’t sleep because I’m haunted by the way I’ve acted in the past…

I could’ve forgiven him sooner,

not listened to him,

been a better granddaughter,

not have harbored bitterness towards her,

pushed them away…

I can’t handle it. Do you hear me? I pass all these people, and I miss them.

I think about these people, and I think if only they had lived longer…if only if I had understood…

And, there’s things I think I will never understand, or forgive. Trauma after trauma,  they make me sick. But–those people will never apologize, and you have to live with that as well.

I don’t want to process it anymore. I don’t want to talk. I just want to shut myself in a dark room and die there.

I can’t hurt anyone there.

No one can hurt me there.

Except myself.

Being human is getting too complicated.