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Poetry > Erin's Erupted Thoughts

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message 1: by Erin (last edited Oct 20, 2017 01:10PM) (new)

Erin | 37 comments Wanting vs Loving

Wanting and Loving,
are not the same thing.
When you want you
Can easily unwant.
When you love
It's so much harder to stop.

You see when it comes to wanting,
The thing that your wanting becomes unwanted,
As if they were just a toy you got tired of playing with.
And with that comes the unwanted feeling of loneliness that
Drives the mind mad.
Well, madder than it already is.

And you see when it comes to loving,
It's nearly impossible to stop and
Sometimes even when you wish you could you cannot
Because loving someone is hard.
Both stopping and starting
But if you really loved someone you
Wouldn't mind it.   

message 2: by Erin (last edited Oct 20, 2017 01:10PM) (new)

Erin | 37 comments An Apology

I'm sorry for being online so much it hardly
Seems like I care.
I'm sorry for making jokes about me dying that it
Seems like I'll try.

I'm sorry for making you feel like shit,
You see I make myself feel worse.
I'm sorry for making you feel so alone,
You see I feel alone all the time so it's hard to remember I'm not.

I'm sorry for lying to you,
For making all these promises that I'm not sure I can keep.
I'm sorry that you had to have me in your life
And I'm sorry that I'll never make you feel good enough

message 3: by Erin (last edited Oct 20, 2017 01:10PM) (new)

Erin | 37 comments Repetition of "I'm Fine"

 It comes quickly,
Like poison spreading through skin
Unable to breathe,
Panic starts to consume the mind

"I'm fine."
Gets repeated so many times
"I'm fine."
Gets told as a lie.

Hands are shaking,
Looking down at them.
I'm fine, I'm fine
Repeat it until ya believe it

Hold on, don't cry now
Hold on, act like your fine now
It was as if a gun just suddenly fired from behind
The bullets hit, not bullet proof

I'm fine, I'm fine
Words are rushing out
Not making any sense
As if this was the last breath.   

message 4: by Erin (last edited Oct 20, 2017 01:11PM) (new)

Erin | 37 comments For Now, Goodbye

I didn't mean to be so weak after you had been so strong.
I didn't mean to leave when you realized you needed to stay.
I didn't mean to drift away.
Didn't mean to say goodbye.

Oh, but this isn't the end.
It's not the last goodbye.
I'm still here, don't you forget.
I just need a break.
I need some time.
It might be a week or maybe a month or even a year, but this is it for now.

This is my goodbye.

One day we'll say hello again,
When that day comes just know I'm sorry for the drift I've caused
I wish I could say it won't occur but I know it will
This is my goodbye,
At least for now.   

message 5: by Erin (new)

Erin | 37 comments A Plead To My Mother

Dear Mom,
I don't know how to do this.
This whole breathing, living thing,
This sleeping thing,
This eating thing.

Mom, I can't do this.

Mom, I hate myself
Mom, it's not a joke
Mom, I'm not happy

I can't do this.

I can't keep fighting with you
and then hearing you say you love me,
You're confusing me
and I can't take it.

I am hurting
and breaking
and falling apart,
and I need help.

Mom, my suicidal jokes
and jokes about death
are more than jokes.
Mom, they're a sign,
A plead.
Won't you just listen to me?

Mom, I'm suicidal,
And I keep trying to pretend that I'm not,
That I'm over it,
But I'm not.

Mom, I need help
Mom, I don't want help
Mom, I need you to know that I need this
And for once,
push my feelings away for a rational reason.

I need you to prove you love me,
because it's hard to believe.

message 6: by Erin (last edited Feb 22, 2018 01:18PM) (new)

Erin | 37 comments bad nostalgia

Stop trying to make me remember everything
I keep trying to avoid thinking about,
stop acting like the name I whisper is
still yours.

Stop making me regret the way I said goodbye, you know the nonexistent goodbye,
because I wasn't sure how to say it.

Stop popping up in my mind,
again and again and again,
because I can't keep doing this,
and this isn't how I want to live my life.

Just stop,
because this is new
and I am new
and just let that be
good enough.

message 7: by Erin (new)

Erin | 37 comments I don't want to watch

i don't want to watch
as you lose
to alcohol.
i don't watch to watch
as you lose
your children
to alcohol.
i don't want to watch
as you lose
just because
of alcohol.

message 8: by Erin (new)

Erin | 37 comments q/a

I haven’t been able to let go of you

and I know that I should.

It’s the reasonable explanation,

The only solution,

and so I must follow through.


So why don’t I,

you would wonder

and of course you would wonder


you too,

have always been curious.


You’re right to wonder,

that’s one of the things

that I shouldn’t but do

love about you.


And here’s my answer:

How does one stop loving

when time is still ticking forward,

when life is continuing,

when the world is still spinning,

and their heart is still beating for

the same person

after so many months?


Tell me,

how can I erase that love?

Tell me,

how can I just let go?


I can’t, can I?

And so,

Now you know.

message 9: by Erin (new)

Erin | 37 comments I know

I know I should have stopped myself from feeling these feelings about you.

I know that I should stop thinking about these feelings I have for you.

I know I should ignore them and treat them like they don’t matter because these one’s don’t and they never will.

I know that I should stop writing poetry about you.

I know that I should stop telling people I’m in love with you.

I know that these feelings are selfish and I need to stop them.

I know,

I know,

I know,

and I’m sorry but I can’t. I haven’t learned to let go yet I can’t let go yet.

I’m sorry and I know that I’ll never tell you how I feel and so that’s why I must write.

message 10: by Erin (new)

Erin | 37 comments a list of questions- things i'll probably never ask but will always wonder.

1. Have you ever asked yourself what you wanted? What you seriously wanted. Not an object or a college or a career or a person but what you want to feel, what you want to know.

2. How do you manage to live through each day? How can you manage to get yourself out of bed and moving?

3. How can you look forward to the future, something so unclear, something so unknown? How can you not have to stop and just pause in fear of what might come? How can you sleep at night without worrying about what tomorrow holds in store for you, or how about the next ten years if your life?

4. How can you be so positive? How can you see the good things in the world? How can you just go with the flow and not ask what if questions out loud to every single person you know?

5. Why are you talking to me? A girl with anxiety who talks too fast and ask questions that cause too much thinking. Why even be near me and listen? I’ll confuse your mind because even if you do understand I won’t stop until you don’t. So why talk to me? I’ll only waste your time, you know?

message 11: by Erin (new)

Erin | 37 comments the start.

I want to write

a collection of poems

just for you.

I want to write

about the universe we’ve created

just for you.

I want to write

about self forgiveness

just for you.

I want to write

about love

just for you.

I want to write

about how you make me

 want to write

just for you.

message 12: by Erin (new)

Erin | 37 comments the wanting.

I want to know everything about you,
Every little detail, every big,
Every good thing,
every bad thing,
and all the in-betweens.

I want to love myself for me
and be happy with who I am,
and I want to be able to love you
with all that I am.

I want to travel the world
to you, for you,
and create the
scene that we’ve
imagined and
make that universe
this universe.

message 13: by Erin (new)

Erin | 37 comments the regret.

I want to escape
my mind of thoughts
and the panic that
over thinking brings.

I want to escape
this sorrow that
makes my bones ache
and leaves me feeling stuck.

I want to escape
and I want to keep running
until I can no longer hear
the beating of my heart.

I want to escape,
please stop,
reminding me to live.

message 14: by Erin (new)

Erin | 37 comments the fear.

I can’t do this anymore,

these words are making me feel

and every feeling I feel over thinks



I can’t keep doing this,

please stop answering me

and making me fall more in love

because I don’t deserve the universe.


I can’t love you,

because in the end I’ll hurt you

and you’ll hurt me

and we’ll hate ourselves more

and I’ll be stuck.


I can’t want this,

because heartbreak

isn’t what we need,

and that’s all that we have.


I can’t want you,

because I’m already attached,

already depending on you,

and I can’t trust you to save me.

message 15: by Erin (new)

Erin | 37 comments the story.

Let me tell you a story.

Let me tell you a story about a girl who was afraid of speaking her mind and feels bad every time she does.

Let me tell you a story of the girl who watches time as if it would run away from her.

Let me tell you a story about the girl who was called emotionless, despite the poetry she wrote about feelings that a young child shouldn’t have felt.

Let me tell you a story about the girl who showed her weaknesses all too often.

Let me tell you a story about the girl who spoke of her suicidal thoughts loudly while walking down a school hallway, trying to laugh away her pain.

Let me tell you a story about the girl who trusts too easily but once that trust is broken is too stubborn to forgive.

Let me tell you a story about the girl who was so broken and is only beginning to heal herself.

Let me tell you a story of all that this girl is and all that she wants to be.

Please, let me tell you my story, not because I want to burden you with all of my thoughts

and my life story

and all of that,
but because I want to know your life story, and it’s only fair if I give you mine in return.

Let me tell you a story about the girl you’ve awoken.

message 16: by Erin (new)

Erin | 37 comments the hesitant.

I don’t want to fall in love
and have hope
and believe in you
and trust that you care
and I don’t want to fall in love with your words and I don’t want to hurt anymore or ever again and I don’t want you to hate me but I am addicted to my self hatred
and to my sadness
so please don’t fall in love with me
and I know I should keep
my end of the bargain
but I can’t, it’s too late, I’m already falling.

message 17: by Erin (last edited Mar 12, 2018 08:25PM) (new)

Erin | 37 comments the perfectionist.

I’m a perfectionist

but you’ve made me feel

good enough,

perfect enough.


My mind is etched in self hatred

but you’ve made me want

to love myself,

to love everything.


I’m full of anxiety

but you promise me

that you’ll stick with me,

that you’ll stand by my side.

message 18: by Erin (new)

Erin | 37 comments the rush.

I’ve had crushes
but none of them are anything like you.
They never gave me these rushes
of feelings like the way you do.
I called you my universe
and nothing seems to be more true.

message 19: by Erin (new)

Erin | 37 comments Running is Fighting: a contradiction.

I keep running

as if that’ll stop the headaches.

I keep running

as if that’ll knock

the anxiety

from my breath.

I keep running

as if that’s the same thing as fighting

and no matter what anymore tells me,

running is a form of fighting.

message 20: by Erin (new)

Erin | 37 comments I can’t focus

as Depression is calling my name

and I can already feel myself slipping

into its ungrateful grasp

and I just want to be alone.

-please don't leave me alone.

message 21: by Erin (last edited Mar 14, 2018 07:01PM) (new)

Erin | 37 comments too terrible to crush on.

I’m a terrible friend

so why do you lie,

give me this fake confidence?

Why do you even care

to defend me against myself-

you should be the first to leave.

I tried to drop you,

to stop you,

to warn you.

Do you still have a crush on me,

I honestly hope not,

because I really will just crush you.

message 22: by Erin (last edited Mar 20, 2018 01:05PM) (new)

Erin | 37 comments
I don't want to call myself a writer

I don't want to call myself a writer anymore because it acts as a swear word and brings distaste to my mouth, although we both know that I deserve quite a lot of swearing, not like you ever bothered to hide it before.

I don't want to call myself a writer anymore because writers are magical and real and I'm just a lie wrapped with pretty descriptive words and an occasional heart breaking heart warming dialogue.

I don't want to call myself a writer anymore because that'll of course just bring more writing and I'll continue to have the restless nights where all I can do is write, and I'll continuously protest my sleep medicine until it no longer has an effect on me.

I don't want to call myself a writer anymore but I still have hands and a brain and I'm a living person, and how can that not make me want to write?

I don't want to call myself a writer anymore because it's a label and I've always hated labels. I always swore I'd never be apart of them or let the define me.

I don't want to call myself a writer anymore because I don't write to breathe like so many others have claimed. Instead, I write because I want to create my own universe and I want to be the brightest star in my constellation, and because I want to do everything

and writing gives up everything so easily. Being a writer allows you to do anything, be anything, and I was okay for a while just being a writer, but that was before I questioned everything and then became in love with the idea of perfection. Writing held out everything in the palm of its hand and like the bidder of a reckless mind I took it all without a thought beforehand, except maybe, I win.

I don't want to call myself a writer anymore because I'm tired of making it seem like all writers are like me, like we all want everything. No, all writers want to tell a story of any variation. We do not all want everything. There they go again trying to group us into a label that none of us will ever accept. As writers are we supposed to accept these labels, these words, these dividers that they're trying to carve between us? I don't think so.

I don't want to call myself a writer anymore because I've started using it as an excuse the way my anxiety became an excuse for the list of reasons I can't breathe, because I never wanted to make it an excuse, because I'm tired of feeling and writing reminds me to feel. In fact, writing shapes my feelings the way an artist may shape clay or the way teachers shape a students education or the way families can shape family members. At the same time, not all artists use clay and not all students have a shape shifting teacher and not all families shape a person. Do you see the point yet? Let me try this again.

I don't want to call myself a writer anymore because I am scared. Scared of the list of words I will never get to write and of all the stories I'll never tell. Scared of inspiring someone and scared of being a trigger. Scared of the ambition to do everything and scared of the limits that people try to put on me and the limits that I put on myself. Scared of poetic whispers that keep me up at night and the feeling like I can't do anything but write or I'll never be able to do anything again.

I don't want to call myself a writer anymore because that's who I am and I'm not so sure that's what I want to be.

I don't want to call myself a writer anymore and yet I do, yet I am and will always be, because I've never been good at letting go. Letting go of anything. Of feelings. Of creations. Or words. Of make believe situations. Of threats that are jokes. Of a days mistakes. Of literally anything my mind can grasp onto.

I don't want to call myself a writer anymorebecause I hate myself and what if I begin to hate writing, too? I don't think I'd be able to handle that.

message 23: by Erin (new)

Erin | 37 comments Not a Friendly One.

It was not friendly,
the way my mother joked back with me.

It was not friendly,
the tone of my mother's voice.

It was not friendly,
the way she threw subtle insults, not caring if she broke me.

It was not friendly,
the thought of death being my only choice.

It was not friendly,
the anxiety that told me I shouldn't be.

It was not friendly,
the realization that this wasn't my first time this week with my cup of juice.

It was not friendly,
the broken feeling I tried to hide inside of what I joked had set me free.

It was not friendly,
the thrill of going back to my old ways, to feeling so ungrounded, so loose.

message 24: by Erin (last edited Aug 03, 2018 05:56PM) (new)

Erin | 37 comments

A Tale Left Unspoken

you convinced her
you could fix her
the moment she finally
admitted that she was broken

you took away her chance of healing
and you took her broken pieces
and you crumbled them in your hands
like crackers in a soup

you convinced her
that she isn't worth much
you've made her self worth
lower than there are stars in the sky

you took her heart
and every excuse in the book
and you've made her forget
that her feelings barely exist

you convinced her
she's already reached her lowest point
things can't get worse
that nothing matters anymore

you took her away
and locked her in a cage
until you convinced her to stay
and she chopped off her own wings.

you convinced her
that she needed you
as if the queen
was a damsel in distress

you took away her kingdom
so that she wouldn't search for home
any further than you were
and you hoped to kill off her princesses

you convinced her
but you didn't convince them,
her princesses in which you hoped
to send far, far away

you took their mother
and their mother took you
until it all ended
with a tale left unspoken

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