Don’t Be Afraid, You’re Already Dead

by Akron Family

don’t be afraid
it’s only love

love is simple

don’t be afraid
you’re already dead

love is simple

You

I’m marking the 11th anniversary of you being gone,
by continuing my attempt to forget the pain you left me with.

Every time you creep into my mind
I feel a sharp knife twisting through my back
straight into my heart.

In my vain effort to articulate my feelings two weeks ago
I said:
Somehow, in some way his death has become the definition
of my LIFE.

I’m so sick of being defined by you and your choices.
I’m tired of everything relating to YOU dictating how
I live MY life.

I’m tired of 11 straight years of mourning.
And grief.
And loss.
And regret.

I’m tired of loving someone who didn’t know how to love me back.
I’m tired of constantly trying to impress you -
even though you’re no longer here.

I’m tired of dreaming about you and hoping they could possibly be something more
than just simple dreams.

I’m so tired of being tired and so utterly saddened by you.
And I’m so exhausted of dreading the holidays.
I just wanna be happy.

And I say that every year but this year I mean it.
And I’m doing something about it. Finally.

So tomorrow when I’m being forced to think about you..
while I’m crying in front of a stranger
and holding those strange contraptions in my hand -

I’ll know it’s so I can finally move on.

“Let’s call in sick”

August 17, 2009  10:36 am

I was almost late to work this morning because I was in bed dreaming about how I was late to work.
And laying next to me was the first boy I ever kissed.
I mumbled something like “Let’s call in sick” and he concurred.
We stayed in the big warm comfy bed with our legs intertwined.
Skin, touching, sticking.

satisfactory

by me

Your adoration is satisfactory
and it all comes right back to me
Your skin, the sweat, your pores
Your sparkling eyes, your curled toes
Yours

Your infatuation is satisfactory
and you come right back to me
Can’t-believe-I’m-wanting-more
Love, lust, attached to mine
Adore

Your body is satisfactory
and it all comes right back to me
Glistening, wet, shining bright
Dripping, pushing inside each other
Excite

You aren’t satisfactory
‘cause you don’t come back to me
and throw it all away
Can’t leave it all behind and just
Stay

piece of me

by me

You know me, every bit and piece of me
Every bit and piece of you speaks. Loudly
to me and you always know, you always knew
Though you never wanted to
You laughed, you played, you smiled
Not typically soft and mild
You were my eyes, my ears, my beating dripping heart
You were, from the start
from the very start of time
You, me, sweet sublime
I loved you all the time
Between love and hate, yesterday and tomorrow
I’ll love you in the meantime
You’re this and that, here and there
I’ll love you everywhere

Even when I’m not there

Garden of Eden

by me

Garden of Eden – pale, empty, dead
Nothing this human carcass left unsaid
Rope, tree, rabid Impulsivity
“She don’t love me, you don’t love me”
So he hung himself instead

I never knew him.

Ava Adore

by Smashing Pumpkins

And I’ll pull your crooked teeth
You’ll be perfect just like me
You’ll be a lover in my bed
And a gun to my head
We must never be apart
We must never be apart

In you I see dirty
In you I count stars
In you I feel so pretty
In you I taste god
In you I feel so hungry
In you I crash cars
We must never be apart

but just pieces

August 1, 2009  12:59 am

I’m having a lot of secret self-pity parties lately. I’m just me and I’m tired of me, being me, everything associated with me. I keep having dreams about peeling the top layer of my skin off and being someone else underneath. Every time I look in the mirror I see my mom. So much more than usual, lately. And pieces of my dad, but just pieces; his nose, fingers, toes, perpetually unable to decide if that’s because I look more like my mom or because I’ve forgotten what he looks like. Not forgotten in pictures, not two-dimensionally, but in front of me, standing beside me. My mom’s getting old, her body’s so much older than she is. It’s an outward, very public, record of the life she’s lead, the things she’s been through. It makes me so sad. And I think that’s why I’m consumed with sadness, loss, hopelessness, fear – when I see her in me in the mirror. I love her and I remember her so being so beautiful but I don’t want reminders of her life, her decisions, choices, the path she chose.

completely drowning

Thursday April 16, 09 8:09 am

Really, I can’t do much lately that DOESN’T drain me.
Or kill me.

(My first thought waking up is how much I can’t wait to get back home and go to bed.)

I feel like I’m floating aimlessly at the bottom of a 10-ft deep pool.
Struggling for air but not wanting it enough to genuinely care.
Even if completely drowning is a very real possibility.

Which it is.

senile, female

by me

Always the victim, helpless, senile, female
Inhale, Inhale,

Exhale.

Loving, loving, hating you, life
Housewife, Housewife,

Lowlife.
(Where’s my nightlife?)

Good God, laughs at blood, pain
Complain, Complain,

Explain.

Welts and bumps, bruises and sores
Drugstores, Drugstores,

Eyesores.

And yet I find you sobbing, staining, crying
Dying, Dying,

Trying.