memorial day poem

Monday 8:27am
I woke up with you on my mind.
You called me babe last night —
my heart is still pounding.

Tuesday 10:53pm
Today I realized we won’t work.
What we are is hurting her.
And I think she matters more to me than you do.

Wednesday 11:52pm
I broke things off with you today.
She barely said a word.
I’ve never regretted anything more than this.

Thursday 4:03pm
I shouldn’t have sent that message.
You shouldn’t have been so okay with receiving it.

Friday 9:57pm
I almost messaged you today.
I didn’t.

Saturday 8:49pm
I’m walking around town in search of alcohol.
They say that liquor numbs the pain of having a broken heart.
I want to put that to the test.

Sunday 2:32am
I heard you texted a girl you’ve never spoken to before.
I wonder if it’s because you’re trying to replace me.
I can’t help but wish you weren’t.
I thought I was irreplaceable.

—  a week with you on my mind, c.j.n.

I wonder if there will be a morning when you’ll wake up missing me. That some incident in your life would have finally taught you the value of my worth. And you will feel a surge of longing, when you remember how I was good to you.

When this day comes I hope you will look for me. I hope you will look with the kind of conviction I’d always hoped for, but never had from you. Because I want to be found. And I hope it will be you—who finds me.


I hope it’s you. I really do.

Amends, Lang Leav


To mark World Poetry Day...

a not so fancy nor fantastic poem, but “ever so bittersweet”, written a good while ago, dedicated to someone who was always worried she’s not inspiring, yet she inspired more than half my poems. 

           Ever so bittersweet

All I wanted was one more day
You with me and me with you
Living like it’s all okay
As we stepped from one to two

Running forward on the board
Until death do us apart
Not like figures from a chess
Nor like puzzles, that’s a mess
Indeed a mess we were together
Not that we did at all bother.
Games we played with one another
Right it felt, more than ever
And now it’s gone, it’s history
More a loss than a victory
Ever so bittersweet memory.

Move on, leave, run away, escape this place… but don’t forget about me, about us, about this town. Always remember where you come from so you can appreciate how far you’ve come.
—  c.j.n.
The Blue Box of Poems

Keep me
in the blue box,
next to the poems,
you’ve saved;
with the pressed wildflowers,
pages of doodles,
and photographs of old flames;
bundle me with love letters
and hand-drawn cards,
memories of those rainy days;
and then,
slowly un-spin
your way,
to your heart…

© SoulReserve 2016

I told gravity I loved him and it was good for a while.

I told myself that I held myself together
too tightly. As a solution, I let my mind wander until
he found legs of his own. He ran, ran, ran until I lost sight of him
and I felt lighter than ever before.
Running-is-the-best-cardio-you-can-do-to-lose-weight (heard by everyone with love handles from somebody who doesn’t).
So, I have been losing weight -wait- everything that once made me heavy
enough to feel worthy of gravity.
I fell in love 

and let it slip through my teeth. I could not
stop slipping on my own emotions so I
taught them about growing their own legs. They now run down my face and
it looks like messed up mascara and sounds like
hiccupping, but it is
really just the way love makes me look when I am alone.
I did not fall in love. I just fell.
My own legs fail(ed) me. I have no choice but to let everything
that held me together
run, run, run
until I can no longer kiss gravity, even just as friends.

Soldiers Lost

The gunpowder in your veins soldier 

So much pain inside your brain 

The world just doesn’t understand 

That your life will never be the same 

At any waking moment Traumatizing memories  

Fucking with your brain 

Poisoning every relationship 

That you’ve worked so hard To keep in frame 

Yet the distance lingers and causes too much strain 

So the people that you hold so close 

Tend to always back away 

But they’ll never understand 

They keep you from going insane 

No one understands the things you give up 

Every single day 

The struggles of a soldier 

Can never be explained   

Day Two Hundred Sixty Five.

I think of you
Young and carefree
Hand in hand we
Enjoyed many adventures
We skipped through rain showers
Let the rain drops caress our smiling faces
We laughed at jokes no one else
Found funny
We constructed a world of our own
And relished it
It’s been years since we’ve spoken
Our roads diverged and took us
In different directions
Every so often I hear our song on
The radio and my heart soars
Remembering you fondly
Remembering us
I hope you’re happy
Where ever you are
And more than anything
I hope you still dance
In the rain

Eight years ago on Christmas morning, I realized I was a girl, not just a child. I watched in awe as my brother tore the wrapping paper off his very own “Build Your Own Volcano” kit. Eyes glistening, my brother grabbed my father’s hand and ran to the basement to begin building. As much as I wanted to join in with them, I stopped when my mother shouted for me to come open my final present. I raced back to the living room, thrilled at the thought of having my very own volcano kit. I was giddy from imagining myself in a white lab coat, making a volcano erupt all on my own. Instead, I faked happiness as my mom showed me how to work my new fake oven. I convinced myself it wasn’t that different from a volcano.

After all, I could pretend my apron was a lab coat and the brown lump of Play-Doh was really molten lava cake.

—  Leigh, day 123

I miss the spaces between the sheets of my bed
that you once filled.
But not the emptiness that came with loving

I miss the place between there and now, where
you filled my heart with laughter 
and joy.
But not the shadows that lurked behind
your light.

I miss the nights that faded into days, and
how we counted the stars and the moons.
But not the grey of the storm that masked
all of your lies.

I miss the memory of a person who
just didn’t exist.

—  I miss what was never there // H.P