riversofink - Tumblr blog

[riversofink]

to be seen

he tells me he hopes I've written about him.

he laughs while he says it but I know what he means.

I hear the plea under the humor,

the most human instinct-

"I think about you, you think about me too, right?"

he asks me if I mind if he stops by again.

when i tell him I don't, he won't believe me unless I convince him.

I hear the begging for connection-

"I love you, you love me too, right?"

he wants to know what flower I would pick to represent him.

tells me I'm a dandelion, but the fluffy type.

I tease him, you mean the dead ones? gee thanks.

it's because they're peaceful, he says, the way they float through the wind. when he thinks of them, he thinks of calm.

I tell him that he is a hydrangea. He deems it acceptable I'm not surprised.

I'm not surprised because I think about him. I love him. I know him.

[riversofink]

shockingly, inspired by the Kardashians

Kylie Jenner was so right. Sometimes you have a year where you just, like, realize things.

When I was panicking after we graduated college about wanting to stay close and still hang out with you, but feeling guilty that you'd have to drive to see me, you told me any friendship takes effort. But it's not a burden. And if someone isn't willing to put in that effort, they're not a good friend anyway.

Once you told me that anyone who lets a friendship with me fall apart is an idiot who deserves ridicule.

You signed the letters you wrote me "forever yours."

But here we are. It's been coming up on 2 years since we've talked.

The other day a student asked me for feedback on a paper. I asked why they wanted any, since every time I give it, they tell me my comments are stupid. He had the decency to look sheepish when he told me he says that, but he always takes the advice because we both know it's actually good.

I froze for a moment- how many times had you dismissed what I was saying as silly or dumb or not worth listening to? How many times did I roll my eyes at you while feeling just that little bit smaller? While you went and took my words to heart behind my back, so I wouldn't know you valued them. It hit me hard. The realization I was right to feel that way. That it's shitty both ways, but at least a 16 year old has the excuse of youthful ignorance.

Our first text conversation was me talking you out of doing something both stupid and selfish. I have to laugh. How many times had we been there? How many times had I stewed silently over something you said or did. Frustrated thinking that I might have to explain to you, again, that what felt like basic consideration for me was lacking, again.

Do you remember when I broke up with my awful freshman year boyfriend? Even the title boyfriend was a stretch. I remember so many of my friends being confused that I wasn't upset about the way things ended.

Do you remember when I stopped being friends with that girl in our junior year? I cried and cried. I remember feeling so silly- it had only been 3 years. I was devastated. You told me better things were coming my way and I deserved everything.

For so long I was too scared of leaving us behind. More than 6 years. That's a lot of time to depend on another person.

I cried once. I woke up the next day and realized nothing had actually changed.

I wrote poem after poem about how scared I was to let go. About how I was hurting but thought the alternative might be worse. I used to think I was strong enough to face anything alone.

Turns out I don't miss you. I was right all along.

[riversofink]

Today is your birthday

In another life, another universe, I am baking you a cake. 

I have had your present ready to go for months-

I saw something that made me think of you, then bought it immediately. 

I almost gave away the surprise of what it is no less than 3 times but I’ve managed to keep it a secret. 

All our friends are gathering later to celebrate you. 

We will laugh and sing and dance as we cook together in a small kitchen. 

Nothing bad has happened between us. There is nothing but love. No challenges we can’t overcome. 

In this life, in this universe, 

The silence grows like a weed. 

I hear a song I know you’d love and I turn the radio off. 

Our friends don’t know how to talk to me without mentioning you. 

I stopped being surprised when you disappointed me again. 

I stopped missing you the moment it settled in that after 7 years of knowing me, you never figured out how to love me.

My throat feels tight when I think about it for too long, the way things could have been. 

The way we planned for things to be. 

I’m happy for them, for her, wherever they are.

I try not to let the jealousy creep in.

That there is a version of you somewhere who has never been cruel to me. 

It feels silly to mourn something that not only never was, but never could be in this world. 

Is red velvet cake still your favorite? 

[riversofink]

i look at love through a window the door is open i feel the breeze whispering through but love walks by i wave my hands grow frantic pound my fist against the glass i think i see love starting to turn my way it doesnt though my hand breaks through the window instead of blood it is nostalgia that flows out golden like ichor until it hits the air

i cry out in pain but love just continues walking away

[riversofink]

still begging

The bodies of those I have tried to leave in the past trail behind me

Syrupy nostalgia dripping from my tongue each time I turn around

Even now

Even though I know it was them leaving me

.

I hand the knife to the friends that gut me

I use metaphors to make men out of insecure boys

I let the shards of broken promises burrow

inside my mind

.

And maybe I just hope that the ink seeping from my poet’s body stained them as they held me

Just as much as their fingerprints feel tattooed on me whenever I feel lonely

That the burns they left me with

Have matching bruises on their heart

.

Please remember me as I remember you

[riversofink]

i'm writing sad poetry again i told myself i would be better would write about growth and sunshine and the warmth of huddling around a fire but everything i write these days comes back to you and even though i love you and i could spend hours and hours reliving fond memories with you attached to them i can't help but crash into the realization that you'll never understand how much you've hurt me whether it's because you don't want to know or you simply aren't capable... it's up in the air like our future like our past when i look back without the rose colored glasses hurting even more now that i don't have to wonder where things went wrong hurting even more coming to terms with the fact that telling you wouldn't do either of us any good at this point i think i'm breaking my own heart trying not to beg for things i know you can never give me maybe i should just let you become someone else who couldn't stick around

[riversofink]

How many handfuls can 2 hands hold

I think to myself. Okay.

Okay.

I can learn to do my taxes and I can make my doctor’s appointments.

Yes, I can respond to the emails and do my job that is actually 16 jobs stacked on top of each other in a trench coat.

I will play therapist. Nurse.

Supportive friend. Loving daughter.

It’s a handful, but I chose this.

I smile and make jokes and read the news.

I read the news.

Sure, I will practice fire drills. I will practice all the drills. I will jolt awake at 2am when I hear a scream. I will not fall back to sleep.

It’s a handful but. Okay.

I will read the news. I can keep them alive, keep them happy. I can read the news.

I ask if you need a hug. Tell you it’s all okay.

I tell them to keep fighting, to keep pushing back against things they feel are wrong. I read.

I wear my mask in the grocery store and I avoid large crowds.

Fine. It’s a handful but it’s fine that I have to comfort crying students on a regular basis, that half of them don’t respect me because of things I can’t control. Okay.

I drive at least 2 hours to see my friends. I will never feel comfortable with him after what he did. The loud noises make me flinch. I worry that all the natural light from the classroom windows I was so excited about is a safety hazard. I get texts at 3am from anxious students. I have meetings and meetings and meetings and I put on a brave face. Okay, sure, it’s a handful, I’ll admit. Over 1 million people have died and a student wants to fist bump me about it because it feels like a joke to them. To me, it all feels like water pouring through my fingers that I should be catching.

It feels like everyone else is holding it all. I’m expected to hold it all.

I’ll spread my hands as wide as I can. Okay. Okay. It’s fine

[riversofink]

i left the satin dress crumpled in the corner and the high heels kicked off perfectly placed for me to trip over later. i walked down the hallway in my grandma’s old sweater, all stretched out and soft, so big that you could barely see the shorts from when i used to play soccer peeking out from under.

you were still in your suit when i plopped onto the couch next to you, one eye closed as i wiped off makeup. you tugged on a strand of hair coming loose from the precarious pile on the very top of my head, where years later you would kiss me. you were playing music, i think.

i know when i sat down and threw my legs over your lap you smiled wide enough that i felt warm. you told me this was your favorite version of me. you said they were all beautiful, but this one felt the most honest. and i believed you.

Tell me a soft memory

[riversofink]

a descent

When I was younger there was a part of my wall where the paint was uneven

The streaks when I stared long enough began to look like a forest

And eventually my mind wandered

Until I would imagine all sorts of horrible creatures emerging from the trees

-

I was back in my childhood bedroom just the other day

My room was repainted years ago

But my eyes were drawn to that same spot

Before I knew it I could see the image forming in my wall just barely

-

So maybe I’ve always been an overthinker

But when I come back to these things

Over and over

It must be real, right

If I keep wondering if this is all worth it

If it will hurt more to cling on or to let go

If I feel exhausted and under appreciated and insane for even thinking it

If I’ll still be glad you came when one of us can no longer stay

Even if none of those thoughts had ever even started to cross his mind

-

There’s a figure in the trees

It’s watching me, judging

I can’t help but wonder if it’s been judging me all these years

Hidden away under layers of yellowing paint

My feet planted and eyes boring into the wall while my mind raced

-

I think I wonder if if if

I guess some things just don’t change

[riversofink]

of all the things I have forgotten to remember,

you are my favorite.

I used to know your middle name.

What it felt like to sit next to you, arm pressed against arm.

At one point I knew how to read your smile like braille,

And what to do when you cried.

 But it’s been so long now that somewhere along the way,

somewhere between the miscommunications and promises you never made,

I simply forgot that I wanted to remember you.

 I remember the last time you asked me to dance

And that I held you so tightly it hurt when I said goodbye.

I still know your birthday

And that you were terrified of disobeying your mother.

 I remember that I cared for you, deeply,

but for the life of me, I just can’t remember why.

[riversofink]

on love

Love is stored in my childhood friend's home phone number, which I still sometimes almost dial instead of my parents' Love is stored in the kitchen where we used to dance while cooking together, with you singing badly, and me singing slightly less badly Love is stored in the dorm room in upstate New York, where we tried to leap over the chasm but didn't quite make it across Love is stored in the chorus of the Winnie the Pooh theme song that my dad used to sing to me every night Love is stored in the notes my best friend writes on the title page of every book he has gifted me Love is stored in the cute frog stickers she got me for my birthday last year Love is stored in the hot drink you have on a cold day when you take a sip and you can feel it blooming, warming you up from the inside out Love is stored in the facetime call from my sister in which she just insults me while giggling and then hangs up Love is stored in the hug offered to me by someone who really doesn't like hugging, but knows I do Love is stored in the way the light hits the fall leaves on the mountain I can see out of my shitty apartment window Love is stored in the karaoke that the teenagers are screaming along to while I'm just trying to read Love is stored in my family sending me back home with a chunk of my favorite cheese Love is stored in the plants I am desperately trying not to kill Love is stored in their laugh at my joke Love is stored in my mothers hands when they French braid my hair Love is stored in the moon, probably, and all the shooting stars people wish on It is stored in the glances between friends and inside jokes and in a perfectly toasted grilled cheese And in the herbs I grew and the orange slice I offer you and the way people smile at babies in public Love is stored in the special moments you're sure you'll never forget and it's in the fleeting moments in between and it's in the way you read this whole poem even though I ruined the moment by just saying what I mean about how love is everywhere. Love is.

[riversofink]

It was never love.

Or at least, it hadn’t been for a long while

By the time things broke down.

I would stop whatever I was doing if you needed me.

I stayed up until my eyes couldn’t stay open a second longer because I was afraid of what would happen if I didn’t.

I was the sun, a dream, a reason to keep trying to wash your own blood off of your hands...

But I wasn’t.

I was a kid who was barely staying afloat.

I could never be the person you wanted me to be and we both knew it.

This infatuation,

This dying connection-

We were too young to know how to cut our losses so we cut up our hearts instead,

Trying to climb our way out of the holes we dug inside of them.

Loving someone isnt pain.

It isn’t feeling homesick for a place you’ve never been

Or holding on white knuckled because you don’t know what will happen if you let go.

It took me years to figure out that love can be safe.

It can quiet my anxieties, if only for a moment,

And it can make leaving easier, because you know they’ll be there when you get back.

That love shouldn’t be the only thing that makes your life worth living,

But it is something that can make everything around you more beautiful.

I hope you’ve learned the difference, too.

[riversofink]

what is the opposite of a love poem?

I still think about you sometimes

You pop up in my writing

I only notice it on the third reading

Your presence is muddling

I still think about you sometimes

You taint the rest of my relationships

I realize that I am bitter even after

I tried to forgive you

I still think about you sometimes

You rattle around in my mind some days

I wonder about the what if

You never really left

I still think about you sometimes.

I never want to see you again

[riversofink]

an old friend.

I told myself years ago that I had written my final poem about you

And since then I haven’t put pen to paper, but

There is poetry, I think,

In the way I feel sick whenever I smell Patron

In the way I overthink it every time I touch my friends

In the way I snapped when he joked about not wanting to sleep so it didn’t have to be tomorrow

In the way I think I see you, sometimes, and it’s never you, but I wouldn’t say anything even if it was

And in the way I wonder if you ever still write about me

I think that maybe there are remnants of you in all the love poems I’ve written since then

Not in the way you wanted, but

Because you changed the way I know how to love

[riversofink]

I am worthy of love and I deserve to know it

I am a can of worms anybody would be lucky to open,

Because yes.

Sometimes it feels like I’m swimming against the current in a flood of anxiety,

And some days it feels like a monumental task to get out of bed in the morning,

And maybe I cry too often,

Am prone to overthinking,

May feel alone in a crowded room-

But.

I love so hard I think it’s a miracle my heart doesn’t burst.

I care deeply about people and I remember the details in the things they say and notice the things they don’t.

There are depths to my mind as yet unexplored and anyone would be lucky for me to let them burrow there.

I’ve got a smile big enough it squeezes my eyes closed and a laugh loud enough that you can feel it a mile away.

So.

You might think I’m nothing more than a goddamn mess of a woman and maybe you aren’t wrong,

But this mess is beautiful in its chaos and it’s trying to clean itself up,

And even if it never achieves perfection, at least you’ll never be bored.

[riversofink]

overwhelming

my soul is bursting out of my skin this body is too small to hold my heart has always been too big

this form, stainted with freckles and tears, it tries to hold me down but these feelings are stretching my frame taut

thoughts hissing out and around somtimes suprise even me- the severity of the situation didn't strike me until this year, but the big fights the small and do I even want to be around to find out who wins?

[riversofink]

what is humanity if not white knuckled retching into rusty toilet bowls and gasping, snotty tears?