I loved her, but she didn’t know me. Her red hair clogged my throat, and her ocean eyes flooded my mind. I wasn’t sure if I loved her, for I didn’t know her. She always spoke as if she was giving a speech, one of those motivational ones. Her voice was like a never ending song played on a viola. I’ve always loved the viola, it wasn’t too high like the violin and it wasn’t too deep like the cello, it was just right. It reminds me of goldilocks and the three bears. I was so fascinated with this girl. Everything about her was perfect.
I first met Margaret during my senior year of college. I was ready to get out, and I could tell she was too. She sat three seats in front of me and two seats to the left in my criminology class. She knew everything; I couldn’t wrap my head around her mind that functioned so perfectly. Margaret had a habit of correcting the teacher and spitting facts that made most people roll their eyes, but I was always intrigued by her charm. As the year progressed, I noticed that she had to let everyone know that she was the most intelligent in the room, it began to get on my nerves.
I couldn’t tell if I loved her, or if I loved to hate her. The way her rosy cheeks matched her red mane of curls that perfectly shaped her soft face, set my chest to flames. My stomach churned everytime she answered a question that I was completely clueless about. She held herself with such confidence, yet she remained humble and genuine. She complimented everyone who came her way because nothing made her happier than seeing other people smile. I wanted Margaret to be mine, I wanted to be Margaret, why couldn’t I be like Margaret?
College had ended. I hadn’t seen Margaret for many years, but not a day went by where I didn’t think of her. I didn’t love her, I was obsessed with her. By sheer coincidence, we ended up at the same party. I seemed to be the only person she recognized, so we sat and talked the whole night. I had changed, but she was exactly the same, perfect. She has always been perfect and always will be. She was the reason I let my thoughts take over, the reason I would cry while staring into the mirror, because I wasn’t perfect.
We talked and we drank. We drank a lot, maybe she wasn’t so perfect after all. I watched her carefully. The way she so effortlessly spoke to people and flirted with guys who came her way made my blood boil. My thoughts stirred. Maybe if I hadn’t had so much to drink, I wouldn’t have followed through with my actions. The night went by quickly. With every second, my anger and jealousy grew. I never loved her, I hated her the whole time. Margaret made my skin crawl. After all these years, she tormented my life. Every waking moment I spent thinking about Margaret. I wish I never met Margaret. I snapped. I saw red. I saw her red curls sprawled out in the bathtub, and my hands were dyed with her red blood. I thought Margaret meant the world to me, now I realize she meant nothing.
a fire sparked in my home
igniting everything i loved
all of my memories
were lost in the ash
burning with the embers
yet i was left untouched
the flame never
came near me
i left without
a single burn upon my skin
but now i am followed
by shadows of what
i lost in the fire
haunted by what little remains
in the rubble of
my sweetest memories
that part of me wishes
i went down with the house
they never seem to get it
they turn a blind eye
to the shadows
that seep into my poetry
they turn a blind eye
to the sobs
coming from under my blankets
when hiding in my room
suddenly becomes
an act of selfishness
that's when i see
how little those i care about
care about me
they cant see the cloud
floating over my head
or the vines that
keep me tied to my bed
i wish i could
tell them straight forward
but it would
break my heart too much to
they would feel
they gave the world to me
for nothing
because the only thing
on my mind
is how to throw it away
i tell myself
i dont want them
to worry about me
but worry they will not
because they will never see
how bad it truly is
but what im really afraid of
is being told that im lying
or that they don't believe me
that spilling my heart
where everyone can see
is nothing more
than a show
an act to draw attention
i dont want the attention
i dont want people to stare
as they see me walk by
knowing that my mind
had me scarred
and left for dead
all they do is watch
they watch the maggots
slowly eat me alive
with their eyes growing wider
as i shout for help
shouting into an empty void
because those around me
have no intentions
of picking away the maggots
they just want to watch
the flames of curiosity
begging them to find out
what'll happen next
because to them
it's nothing more
than an lie
when he first came into her life
she immediately assumed
that he was the light waiting for her
at the end of the tunnel
that she had been
hopelessly dragging herself through
for so long
she was quick to chase after him
she took any sign
as a sign of hope
because she wanted nothing more
than to escape from that tunnel
how naive she was
to be blinded
by the beauty his petals promised
that she was oblivious to his thorns
oblivious to his vines
that she became entangled in
she threw herself into his arms
and he sunk his thorns into her skin
she knew she fell into his trap
but he planted his roots deep
and wrapped his vines around her heart
for so long he made her think
getting rid of of him
would get rid of a part of her
and she believed him
she wanted so badly
to believe he would show her
how to get out of the tunnel
that she didnt notice
he was making her run in circles
around a dream
that would never come true
he fueled her with words
that were so sweet on the surface
to distract her
from the knives that he threw at her
from the poison his thorns
pumped into her veins
she was drowning
in an ocean of his lies
and empty promises
she spent most of her days
trapped in her room
tapping away on her grand piano
after the endless tunes
she would play
she began to feel
as though she was trapped
in a never ending song
the only way
she knew how to
let out her emotions
were on those black and white keys
her anger spilled out of her
in a thunderous rage
and her sadness dripped from her fingers
like the raindrops that
fell from the sky
she felt stuck on her piano bench
a prisoner to the instrument
little did she know
the songs that she
drilled into her mind
caught the attentions
of the boy who lived next door
he would hear her play day and night
he felt the chords
wrap around him like a blanket
he waited for the day
he would finally meet
the piano girl
bur sadly she was chained
to the piano
her song would last forever
he stayed hopeful
hopeful yet naïve
because he believed
the song was for him
flowers on their doorstep
addressed to her
not knowing where they came from
not knowing who theyre from
everyday she received
a fresh new bouquet
everyday her husband
grew angrier at the plants
the ides of another man
trying to steal his wife
his precious flower
circled his mind
or that's what she imagined
when he screamed at her
demanding for an answer
for a reason
for a name
for a source of the flowers
that were appearing
at their front door
an overgrown garden
grew between them
a war zone in their once
beautiful green fields
but little did she know
he was sending her the flowers
this was his plan all along
to dissolve the roots between them
to make it easier
to cut her from his garden
to pull her from his bouquet
because he had his eyes
on another rose
on another girl
who he could send flowers to