Hear Me, Heal Me

I decided to post my entire poetry books here as a little exclusive for those who happen to find my profile. This is a poetry book exploring the healing of the inner child and the impact a wounded inner child has on every aspect of life. If you'd still like to support me, I'll link the Amazon link. Thank you for sharing space with me.

Static

Turn me on for background noise like you turn on the television only notice me when I say something that piques your interest turn me off when I descend into a pool of static.

Ouch

I often times wish I wasn’t so sensitive

graze past my sleeve and you’ll feel the rhythm

of my jagged heartbeat.

My tears don’t know how to stay put.

They are easily coaxed from their shadows by critics and minor inconveniences.

Ghostwriter

Fear me not! I smell the sage and see the crystals I hear you chanting to the universe to protect you from me.

I am just a ghost.

I am more afraid of you.

The way you so mercilessly carve burgundy roots into your flesh the way you snarl in the mirror

I can’t tell if you are a human or a beast the way you deny yourself until your bones jump out of your sickly, yellow skin.

You smile at this.

It’s haunting.

Fear me not.

The whispers you hear at night are demons closer to your eardrums than I ever could be.

Full

Oh moon how I love you.

You light my winding roads and keep my dreams safe.

You pull my tides and accept my manifestations.

I see you every night splashed across my notebook or across the crumpled tissues.

I always wonder if you get lonely too.

How does it feel to love the sun and all her evasiveness?

Does it make you uneasy too?

Fever Dreams

I tell them I am sick.

They place the cold metal on my bare chest

tell me to inhale tell me to exhale can’t they see I’ve forgotten how to breathe?

They place wooden sticks on my tongue until they make me gag tell me to say ahhhh can’t they see how much

I’ve been screaming already can’t they see how red and raw my throat is from swallowing the pain

of no one hearing me?

They place plastic between my dry lips and tell me they’ll hold it until it beeps will it detect my blood boiling the heat behind my heavy eyelids my body’s inability to maintain balance

Or my mind’s?

They jot some numbers down

click their pens and tell me

I am just fine.

Excess

Maybe if my skeleton bursts out my skin maybe if my skin is more scars than skin maybe if the girl who cries wolf becomes the wolf

maybe if I splay my body open for everyone’s hands maybe if a single touch sets off smoke alarms maybe then

they’ll believe me.

Show Yourself

How do you do that?

Find a way to vacuum the air from my weary lungs and wrap your hands around my aching throat without leaving a single trace?

Show yourself, please.

If they can see you

maybe they will finally believe me.

Postal

Can you hear me gasping for breath?

Can you hear the rattle of silence in my airways?

Are you listening?

Can you hear the tornadoes violently throwing my thoughts around?

The corners of my warped mind are littered with unopened letters confessing my agony.

Read them aloud.

Release the ink imprinted

onto this cherry red paper.

Scatter it into the minds of everyone who claims to love me.

Wait patiently for them to ‘return to sender’.

Guide Me

“Believe me” turned into disbelief that I was unwell that I was wounded.

So when the sickly voices crept up my spine and whispered in my childish ears to carve to be less to disappear

I couldn’t say no.

They were just helping me after all, right?

They made me feel

safe when chaos flourished around me outside my cotton candy door holding on to the last hinge by a single sliver of wood.

They were my angels when God was silent they were closer to my eardrums than any ghost ever could be.

Liar

Forgive me if I am quiet my tongue hasn’t healed from the burning lies that escaped my lips for years my tongue sweltering in the heat of untruth got used to saying

“I’m fine. I’m not sick.”

Parched

I tip-toed through the sands of the scorching desert.

Time was nonexistent.

The contrast between the sand and the ground began to blend together.

Was I floating?

Was I buried?

Caught in the entanglement of my thoughts

I pondered giving in.

And then I saw it.

A puddle?

A lake?

An entire ocean!

Right there in the middle of the desert.

I could almost feel the coolness of the water sliding down my parched throat as I approached it.

Could this be my savior?

With sand-beaten lips I took a drink and instantly a current pulled me under every time I opened my jaws to scream for help water rushed into my body burning my airways.

I had to decide to suffocate while hoping to be heard

or

drown in silence and wait for my ending.

Then I saw you tall and strong. you held your spotless hand out for me to grab onto and I did so gratefully.

We waded through the sand dunes for days until we finally found a lush meadow.

I felt the moisture from each blade of grass as they prickled my dehydrated toes.

You led me to a waterfall told me not to be afraid told me

I wouldn’t drown this time.

As birds sang around us and rabbits hopped through shrubs

I took your hand

and stepped into the refreshing oasis

and let the waterfall purify me with each icy droplet.

You led me to the middle of the meadow where sunflowers taller than skyscrapers loomed above the grass.

We laid there letting the sun penetrate our pores.

I basked in the moment

hoping this wasn’t all a mirage.

Harmonious

Lie in my bed of sins suckle the warm honey flowing between my caramel valleys until your taste buds

of nectar pooling around my lips.

We’re making sugary music now.

My chocolate soprano and your carob tenor fudge covered bongos being played by lips dripping with condensed milk.

Lie in my bed of sins

Let’s make sweet music together.

Careful

I rested in the stillness of the lake while the moon listened to me cry.

I wondered if she was listening to you too.

Façade

You came to my doorstep in opulent packaging with honey golds and rose pinks dripping off your seams.

As I cut into you glitter soaked the floor its alluring tides pulled me under gently.

With your packaging under my feet

I lifted you up amazed at what I saw.

It looked like you’d been beaten by the wind and scorched by a brushfire.

Your glitter and gold weren’t so shiny anymore.

Sometimes I Paint

Clarity pours over me and I unearth the truth about your intentions.

I was just your secret hobby your distraction from the chaos of the world the thing you picked up again only when you had the time.

I was only longed for when you were lonely and you couldn’t find anything else to pull that out of you.

But you didn’t tell anyone about me for fear of judgmental eyes passed it off as avoiding interference and nosy comments and

I believed you.

So, you kept me hidden in your trashy garage next to the old car you’d fix someday.

Sometimes you drooled me out of your numb, drunken lips too unaware to wipe me off until the voice in your head shouted at you.

What will they think!

And in a panic you blotted me away.

I hope one day you stop making hobbies out of people.

Generosity

Where is your life jacket, dear?

Don’t you know the waters here are deep?

Here, take mine.

Peanut Butter

You were the peanut butter stuck at the back of my throat the sickly, salty vomit of swallowing too fast you smothered me to put out my fires

Look! No more flames! and all my burning aspirations and scorching passions agreed with you.

I poured my water into your bottomless cup you let me wade in your treacherous waters knowing that

I’d be your lifeguard that I’d keep you afloat until I started drowning too.

Foolish

Set my wick ablaze watch me burn slowly watch my wax become liquid my liquid become vapor watch me disappear.

Use me up until Summer comes and you don’t need me to keep you warm anymore.

Keep me in a jar on a dusty shelf with all the other candles you’ve burned to ashes and I will still be here

foolishly wishing I was at least your favorite scent.

Let me dance on your tongue red and sweet

or

white and bubbly.

Let me burn your throat with good intentions and a warm demeanor.

Fill up your cup with me until I am nothing but sticky droplets in an empty glass bottle.

Keep my bottle in your crisp cellar so I can smell the warm oak.

And I will still be here foolishly wishing I was at least your favorite flavor.

Street Signs

You move to kiss me/ I pull out a bright, yellow yield sign/ my eyes say/ Are you sure?/when you kiss me I’ll surely fall in love too quickly with all the parts of yourself you thought were unlovable/ I’ll mend them/ mold them/ love them/ when I fall in love I’ll be the sweater on your cold back/ the lemonade refreshing your sweltering throat/ the aloe vera southing all your wounds/ Can you handle this?/ You wait for my thoughts to slow down before you proceed./Your lips say/ Yes.

Gin and Gabapentin

You drank me on the rocks

I swallowed you on an empty stomach

the mixture felt delightful at first.

My head was swimming you fell down giddy from laughter the sun wrapped around us and gave us one million tiny kisses.

Then

it began burning us.

I began drowning.

and you were cemented into the pavement.

I’ll Keep You Safe

Goodbye sat in the stale air around us knowing this was our last one I desperately grabbed it from the wind once you left and put it in my back pocket for safekeeping.

DNA

We held each other so tightly our skin began to tear beetroot blood seeped from underneath our ragged fingernails.

You were being pulled by the force of a tornado I was being pulled by the winds of a hurricane and somewhere in the midst of it all we forgot what gravity was.

I was your scratched-up souvenir you got when you were six from an amusement park with rides you were too small to get on.

The habit of being small in the midst of greater things seemed to follow you to adulthood.

You were the photos I got from a musty photobooth at the fair when I was twelve four rows of choregraphed poses and choregraphed smiles and to this day we still put them on.

We were each other’s love letters and birthday cards and old toys.

But I was also tequila in your thirsty, alcoholic hands.

You were the long fingers reaching down my slimy throat.

We clung to each other so tightly that when our storms tore us apart we still had each other’s flesh buried underneath our fingernails.