THIS IS HELL // THE ENFORCER
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i want a world
i want a world where everything changes from brown to green
depending on the day and the suns choice of grin.
i want roads and sidewalks that are made of porcelain and not stone
with tiny chips of amber freckling the perfect white pace.
i want the leaves to all be orange and smell of lavender as they all float along,
and the city, of that secret, hidden place only ive been to.
i want the mountains to look like porcelain hills of flesh, peaking perfectly
in size and shape with pink caps of snow.
i want music to be one voice, whispering in my ear. over and over.
and i want a world, just me and all of this. you.
i believed i understood it
because i could write it out and spell it right,
like all the words on the page.
like ‘me’, and like ‘you’.
pink spills out from inside me,
like a red mass of love. of heart.
teasing me with what i knew.
and having lost what i had, its all cut in half.
Lullaby For Someone Far Away
imagine this put to finger picked strings. imagine im back at your home, curled up close to the fire, like when we first kissed. imagine its raining, and youre cold and huddled close. like when we first kissed. imagine youre tired, but can’t sleep and im singing this.
go to sleep love. though the distance holds our lust and though time couldn’t care about us. i will resurrect it all and break the stone that bars your home. punctuation holds its secrets and the words we used seem to hold no meaning, but ive forgotten how they lie and don’t care to remember everything else. but you.
when the demons come (the same that scare me too), im here. and like the song that brings me back, ill find my way to you. in darkness and in light. in cold and the colder. in sickness and in truth, im with you. i am with you.
ive wept and ive tried, hoping both tears and mind somehow comfort a love that is far away. and though distance and time, and dots and measure of light fuck with the lives of those who seem to fight them all. no power or spirit could keep me from this. and no mirror could hold any greater truth, than i love you.
i have this dream. it’s a continuation of what my life used to be and it feels and looks like its what it would’ve been. its always summer and we’re sitting on our seat in your perfect little living room. youre in my arms like you always were and your mom is screaming from the other room asking for help with dinner. you roll your eyes like you always did and i smiled and pushed you up and followed right after to try and show off. we talk and giggle, and flirt and laugh and your mom thinks we’re funny but doesn’t really understand. your dad comes stumbling in the door after work. tired and hungry, but excited to see you and cutely smiles and gives you a hug. then shakes my hand. we all sit down and talk about the day, when i notice that your parents look aged. older than when i last saw them, but by years, not months. then i look at you. beautiful as ever and perfect still, but more mature, and i cant figure out why. and i look at my arms and theres more scars then before. theres more reminders of the problems with me and all the reasons you shouldve stayed away. but you didn’t. theres rings on our fingers, and i understand. my heart skips a beat, when i grin and you grab my hand, smiling and lean in for a kiss. i don’t remember how it ends, but i woke up smiling. and then broke down when i realized it wasn’t true. i dream it every night and its always the same. and i wake up in pain. but its worth it for that moment when i believe that its real. and i don’t want to give it up. so i won’t fight it. and i don’t think i could anyways.
There Is No God
i finally understand. there is no god. if there were a god, he wouldn’t have taken you away from me. and he wouldnt have let me become what i am today. so thank you. thank you for showing me what i was too scared to see before. thank you for using that nonexistent fucking piece of shit as an excuse for getting away from a perfect life with me that you were afraid of. thank you. im sure god thanks you too. my anger keeps me going, and itll be there at the end. not like your god, not like family, and not like you. if you really believe what you preach so loudly, then show me. and treat me like a poor lost soul, because at this point theres nothing left to live for. again. again.
wake up. youre laying right in front of me. please wake up. surely, the cold of the metal on your covered naked body will stir you. wake up. cant you see im weeping and in pain and i need you to respond. say something, anything, even if youre angry with me. a word to know youre alive and breathing would be enough to calm me. i have so much to apologize for, and so much i still want to tell you but you’ve left me. and theres no way i can think of to get you back. ive been just strong enough for far too long and i cant control my emotions anymore. the doctor is looking at me funny while i lean in close to your neck, but i cant smell anything but death. i ask if i can stay the night, just one more time, by your cold side. but he says no, and laughs as he walks away. he doesn’t understand, he’s never lost the person he loves and live with the guilt that its all his fault. he wont, he never will. and i cant pray that on his head.
god if youre up there, and i pray you are today. i just want to say goodbye to her and not leave her like i did that day. please stir her for just a moment so i can say my peace and cry. please wake up. please, i just want a chance to say goodbye.
at this point im not sure how to end this, or whether i even should. i cant focus enough on what i know is true to decide which one it is. i guess tonight ill figure it out. i hope. its appropriate, i think, that i come clean about what ive been doing. you’ve asked, but i had to lie before because i didn’t want to hurt your feelings or scare you. but you know about me now, and i think you’ve earned it. its true that youre gone, but i wonder if youll still be able to read it. up on your thrown, somewhere above me. you’ve always made me feel so little.
the entire time i wrote this journal you thought i was writing a novel. yes you. right under your perfect little nose i dictated every stupid thing you said, and every selfish thing you did. it killed me but i finished and now im telling the whole world, even though your gone and even though they wont know who you are. i tried to preach it in a sermon but i couldn’t quite get out the words and when i fumbled on my writing they just laughed and left me alone. im still not sure where god is or why he left me stranded at home, but im starting not to care because ive gotten myself here and ive done it all alone. most important im glad youre dead because i don’t have to feel guilty. i can keep on living like i was before when you were still here and not have to look behind my back to try and catch you watching. after we ruined our lives and destroyed all our happiness, i had to wait around patiently to watch as you played me for the fool. when you thought that you could excuse yourself from telling the whole truth by telling just enough of it. when you thought that you could yell in my face for something you thought i did, and then turn around and promise me something that you knew would never come true. when you said you were an addict and you knew you had a problem and that you were definitely going to stop, but couldn’t. you just switched drugs to one that made you happier. (its said that the first step is admitting, but id much rather have watched you quit. but this is just as good i guess.) when you hated me for always sending you flowers but ate him up because he could buy you happiness. when you whispered your side to the ones you thought were close, but failed to mention what youd done, and how id been provoked. when you told me that you loved me. and i believed you.
i’ve tried to cry and feel sorry that youre gone, but at this moment i cant because you hurt me too much. its hypocritical i guess, because i did my fair share, but i meant to apologize, and it’s the thought that counts, right? i keep forgetting you won’t answer because you’re no longer here. and no matter what questions i ask or what favors i need, you aren’t listening cause you can’t hear me.
What I’ve Made You
i made you what you are today and i kept you breathing when you wanted to die, and that’s all you could say. youre happy now because i gave it to you and sacrificed every ounce i had. you don’t look back because i made sure you couldn’t, losing my confidence and reputation at the same time. and that’s what makes me happy. or at least what keeps life bearable. and one day when youre married again with your new husbands kids, you’ll look at yourself and the life that you’ve made and think, goddamn i made a mistake. you gave up the one thing that saved you (me, even though i earned it) but confused it for something bigger. you’ll see me in your little ones face and cry every time youre upset thinking, it could’ve been mine, but you’ve lost all this time. i’ll be gone by then, based on how ive been drinking, and how much i care. but that’s fine cause ive got better places to be than here just wondering what i should be doing, feeling like i never really have a home. its strange, they can see me in your face, like your eyes are holding me captive and never letting me go. ive learned that no matter how much you say it. it doesn’t make it true. from there i can see you write letters to me but never send them. but it helps you, to make it seem like im alive and like you care enough to inform me about life. that’s what i imagine and that’s what they’ve told me, but what do they know. theyre all crazy right?
today i preached a sermon, on caring and forgiveness. i hadn’t planned on it earlier this week, but last night i thought it was fitting. i knew you’d be visiting and i thought maybe you’d hear it in between the moans and groans and pains that youre always screaming. i started with a prayer that took a lot of courage to finish. asking for patience, grace, and mercy for the one that doesn’t deserve it. while i preached my sermon and spoke my words, i looked hard for your face to see your response. and i found it. it wasn’t so much that you were mad at what i was saying, but you grinned like you’ve never done anything wrong. like im the one that’s caused all the problems and was the reason that you decided to break it off. i understand that im the one who cheated first, and im sorry. ive said it a thousand times. i know that’s not enough, but im not sure what you want from me and im not sure what else i can do. as i stood there in my robes, with jesus staring down at me i stared and tried to say all that with just a look. i tried to drag the message out to give her every chance to understand, but i don’t think it changed anything. that stubborn bitch. after it was over, i shook hands saying, thanks god bless you. i saw her coming closer and forgot how to speak my words and fumbled when i saw her and just said, fuck you. but she didn’t hear me. she was busy laughing with him, and never seemed to look away. as she walked farther and farther away, it hit me in my chest. i miss her. its not more complicated than that. we’ve treated each other like shit, and never bothered to apologize. and i miss her still and i love her still and its driving me stark, raving, mad. i can’t think with a smile anymore, like the world’s so happy and ive got everything to live for. ive lied enough and i can’t do it anymore. but i couldn’t preach that because its not a sermon and it would only hurt her. and i can’t and i won’t. and i still love her. ive already started to think about what im going to say next week, not that i care about it, but it gives me something to do. its something to take my mind off of all the shit that’s happening. its funny though, that’s what i think going into it, but once i start to write my words out, they hit me right away. my parents always told me that obedience led to blessing and i foolishly always believed them. its taken me years but i finally understand that they’re wrong and they’ve known it all along. blessings don’t come as a result of anything. they’re all just chance and luck. and pain, doesn’t need any help. its always on its way. and its coming with intentions to stay. im not sure who above us picks the victims, but they don’t see circumstances at all. and it doesn’t make sense. its never made sense. it wont ever make sense.