You, Again

Hey!! Bet you can guess who/what this one is about!! One day I will fucking get over that man!! Hope it comes soon!!

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You, Again

I still hurt to my very core.

Anything that even remotely reminds me of you

makes my breath catch, my chest seize, my eyes go red,

makes my heart physically hurt.

I’m suspicious of everyone now.

New people, old people, friends.

What do they all want from me?

Am I acting correctly according to them?

When will they leave me?

All at once,

or will they go marching

out one-by-one.

I’ve never liked being drunk.

The fuzz in the head, not being in control,

possibly feeling like I have to puke.

But now, it makes me feel real,

feel alive. Feel something other than pain

when I think of you. But even then, I still feel pain.

I drink ‘til I can’t hold my head up,

until it’s as heavy as my heart.

I drink until I pass out.

The only time I can’t feel anything

is when I’m unconscious.

I can barely even look

at one of my favorite photos

of a Black & Tan at my favorite bar.

Because one of the last things you ever said to me

was that you liked that picture.

Fitting, that one of your favorite beverages

is helping me get over you.

Heartache Ain’t A Thing I’d Recommend

So, I'm going through a rough time right now. The two previous poems are also about what's going on. The title for this poem was taken from a Ducky Boys song. The band's lead singer, Mark Lind, is my favorite songwriter mentioned in the poem. My favorite comedian is Christopher Titus if you want to check out some of his stuff. Not my best poem ever, but let me know what ya think (Please)!

Just snapped this photo of what's beside me as I type!! :-)

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Heartache Ain’t A Thing I’d Recommend

My favorite comedian once stated

that when a girl gets her heart broken

she automatically slips into an

“eat cookies and cry period.”

Well, I take a slightly different route,

with a drink whiskey and write period.

My favorite songwriter once said

to never trust anyone

who hasn’t been broken by life,

who hasn’t been kicked while they’re down,

because they can’t imagine how it feels.

If I had only listened to him,

I wouldn’t be so broken, again.

I wanted to sit outside,

in the rain, and write.

I wanted to watch raindrops

blur the blue lines of my notebook

and the black ink of my pen strokes together.

I wanted my notebook to look

how I feel: washed-up, used,

left out for the elements.

Instead I’m huddled

on a whicker couch in a screened in porch.

With only yoga pants, a worn-out hoodie, and a Superman blanket

to shield me from the 39 degree winds.

I shiver as I write,

pull my blanket tighter around me,

move around in my seat

on my unending quest to get comfortable .

This’ll do, I think

before I run inside to refill my glass.

MicroPoetry

So, I don't know how long this has been going on, but over the last few days in Twitter I've been reading #MicroPoetry tweets, AKA poetry written with 140 characters or less. I'll probably be writing more as the days go on. Here's my first attempt, not too shabby I think!! :-)

The picture is of Marc Orrell, my absolute favorite guitarist. Because this photo makes me way happy!!

I wish I could
grab your shoulders
shake you
Yelling until you understand
but I'll sit here placid
strumming my thoughts away