Author Archives: Dox

I like poetry and writing, this is my only online blog/journal.

-daily reminders: Be patient it will happen eventually so don’t worry too much, stop saying you’re bad at that, it’s okay to like those things, give yourself time to learn, everything’s not always gonna work out the way you want it to, it’s okay to focus on yourself sometimes.

(March, 2017)

You don’t want to make a scene,

But you’re the wound in my Vaseline

What am I suppose to do?

What do you mean?

I have such an inability to see threw,

I wasn’t keen that I was being used by you.

That I was masking, me softening the bruise

All the giving all the taking that you do.

I softened around you.

I thought I was the soles in your shoe, the cap on your glue guess if I only knew

None of this was real, nothing to hold onto

What were the odds it was never us,

Least of all you,

It rose and receded,

My heart gasped and pleaded,

For the life jacket that it needed.

You stared like I was walking on all fours,

Like I was talking hypothetically of course.

But you gave realism, to the paranoid reality that formed my anxiety and negativity, in this hole of a shell. This soul should tell.

That used to be so whole. but now never much alive and well.

I mean it was together, but not breathing,

Until you gave it meaning,

And that gleaming in your eyes,

Arouse feeling in mine. I couldn’t present it better with a bow tie.

On this cold open case, this unrehearsed cry of intention.

This deceptive shine inspired an invention.

A weary coat hanger, so tired of being used.

Like if the titanic was a horror movie, instead of a rich drowning cruise

Over waves I felt the love that was,

And the love that lived above

It was dead but it haunted me, that you had breath but you’re figure was unhumanly.

Connected to me

I see who I saw before, but behind that

There’s nothing left when I look for more.

I want back what you abandoned, and left in the cold rain that shaped resentment

Before I knew, I’d have to return it- with a nasty burn on my chest that says ‘learn from it’

Before it was twisted, before it was bent, before the love was corrupt, and revealed itself only to be leant.

Do better kid there’s more for you out there.

After all the backhanded words and hateful distant stares.

Guess I’ll learn to listen to myself and be more self aware.

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Roger Rosenblatt, “Ones children’s children. Look back to us as we look back to you; we are related by our imaginations. If we are able to touch it is because we have imagined each others existence, our dreams running back and forth along a cable from age to age”