big red balloon

Hi I like you.

In fact, I believe I love you.

And I want you to know that your beautiful.

Your talented and funny,

Clever and capable.

But your not doing anything with your life.

And it scares me.

Because you could do so much.

And I want you to do it all.
So you can have it all.

Because you deserve it all.

So please,
do yourself a favor,
and go get yourself a big dream,

a big red balloon.

Now inflate that balloon,

that dream,
with all the breath inside that beautiful body of yours.

Then hold onto that balloon,

inflated from everything inside of you,

all of your ambitions, hopes, fears, bad habits, and personality,

and let it pull your feet off the ground.

Dont let go.

Let that big red balloon carry you higher and higher.

You can do it.

Its okay to dream,

and to pour your entire self into that dream.

Because heres the thing,

dreams do come true.

I know,

Because I know you!

 

This thing.

This thing between us.
Its gotten really old.
And I'm pretty sick of wasting my time thinking, crying, yelling, questioning, etc.
On this thing.
So I'm on to new things.
Like creating a new font,
babysitting for professors children,
making paper snowflakes and christmas cards,
going to dance clubs,
discovering conspiracy theories,
collecting recipes,
planning trips to India, New York, Europe, and Alaska,
and finishing that one book I've been reading for 10 months and counting.

three things ive gotten really good at:

1. falling in love
2. building walls
3. holding on

space

swollen and crusty around the eyes
my face feels heavy
my body feels numb
i am numb
from my head to my heart
i question if the blood is still pulsing
i try coffee
a cigarette
some cereal
some sleep
but my own cries keep echoing
off my apartment walls
like ghosts from the past
still tooling around

an ocean between us
i sink below the waves
for relief
until my lungs fill up
and i bob to the surface
swollen and crusty
blue and white
salt water and heartache
fight and surrender

closets

yellow dresses; some tattered, some altered, some still with tags

fall sweaters; some warm, some buttoned, some falling to the floor

delicate blouses; with patterns, and lace, and smells from the night before

feminine skirts; some pleated, some flouncy, some too short to wear

limp bodies; some blue, some bruised, some rotting to dust

dark shadows; with edges, and dark holes, and ghostly breathing

naked skins; some poisoned, some frozen, some pink as blush

male figures; some sleeping, some searching, some floating away

wedding dresses ill never wear
rocking chairs without a home
promise rings ill never keep
record players without sound

pills to make things better
to heal the heartache
to cure the disease
to fix the problem

never escape

yellow balloon

i have this deep hole of hurt inside my soul
and the dirt that you've thrown won't make anything grow
so i fill it with water as quick as i can
but the land erodes further
so i learn how to swim
and i swim in circles in the river of pain
i practice backstroke and sidestroke over and over again
til im just treading water to keep my head afloat
and my muscles get tired of trying to cope
so i sink to the bottom of my deep hole of hurt
and i find myself lonely and starving and broke
i blow a yellow balloon with my last breaths of air
and i float to the top of my empty wide tear