This Poem Would’ve Mattered If You Cared

You say you have a southern draw but all I hear is your quiet voice.

Within every short breath,

down pours your simple yet delicate words.

Maybe,

I like how easy it is to talk to you

Maybe,

I like how your words don’t tumble down

like the waterfall in the back of our school.

As I sit on this tennis court,

I listen to the birds sing

and the hum of all of the bees.

From a distance

I hear the water crashing on the rocks making so much noise.  

But you talk almost so silently,  

like a drop of water

when it first begins to rain.

You talk like you don’t have much to say

but your smile is louder

than any letter,

any word,

any sentence,

any poem.

 

I ask you about your car and how you named it Julia.

It’s just a coincidence that your Jeep’s name is so similar to mine,

right?

Or maybe you’re playing country love songs on your radio for a reason.

Maybe not.

Maybe yes.

Maybe no.

But when I’m talking to you,

I don’t have to worry about picking the petals off a flower wondering,

“does he like me,” or “does he not,”

because for some reason

I can already feel the wavelengths of a connection between us.

Almost like the musical wavelengths of the song playing on your radio.  

I hear words from the lyrics

but none of them matters

as much as yours.
This morning,

you told me that you almost hit a bus.

Immediately my thoughts became lost

and in my mind I kept hearing your name

ring over and over again,

as if every other priority of mine

disappeared.

 

I think people’s lives are more important

than textbooks and homework assignments.

 

Maybe my English teacher wouldn’t agree

but I find it strange for somebody who helps students learn about poetry

and the words

that f l o w

like ripples of water

in each writer’s mind

to not care about somebody like you.

It’s because you’re more than words.

You are more than a human body,

with human cells,

and human flesh,

you are important

even when the song

isn’t playing.

 

From a distance,

I’m still able to hear your simple yet delicate words

and your smile –

is louder than any letter,

any word,

any sentence,

any poem.

I need you to not take your eyes off the road when you’re driving,

 

even if it’s just for a second.

Because for a second

sitting next to you felt like I was with one of my own poems,

as if my words had transformed into a human body.

F o r a s e c o n d

It felt like we had a connection.

 

Not just from the car

or from the music

or because you say that you don’t listen to your friends

when they talk badly about me.

But a real connection since we both share the same serenity.

 

So please just focus on the road

because I want there to be more time.

I want to know you

and learn about the poetry in your soul

hidden beneath your blue sunglasses

inside in your eyes.

 

Because when I’m with you

I don’t want there to be any end.

I don’t want to be left

with a memory of you

and just your name ringing in my head.

K for killed

because sometimes my words

aren’t powerful enough

to save a life.

-j.ds

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They Say Nothing Ever Goes Away For Good

They say nothing ever goes away for good.

But they didn’t know about you.

 

People ask me how I can live

without you.

They wonder how I breathe

and I tell them to look at the trees.

 

only this time

I’m not questioning why trees are trees.

I’m telling them

about these forces of nature.

I tell them that just because

I don’t have him

Doesn’t mean I can’t breathe.
They ask me about ‘her’ as if i’m already aware

that he’s moved on.

I look over and wonder

what does she have that I don’t.

 

But is it really about what somebody has?

or about what they have to offer?

A friendship

Real love

Honesty

Trust

Comfort?

 

They ask me how I can breathe knowing

that now she’s the one teaching him

Portuguese

and as she rolls her “R’s”,

he’s rolling in bed with her.
They ask me how I can live

knowing that his hands

are feeling every inch.

They ask me how my heart can keep

beating

knowing that

he’s causing her heart to explode.

 

They keep asking and asking as if my

o x y g e n

comes from the guys that I’ve

kissed,

but little do they know,

I know how to live without locking lips.

 

I know how to breathe without being in love

and still

I know how to breathe even when he’s

losing

his breath with hers.

-j.ds

 

Do You Really Want To Be Gone Forever?

One minute we’re talking about video games and the next he whispers,

“I want to kill myself”

looking at him I feel the sadness running up my throat.
the feeling of not having any oxygen to breathe in begins
I look at him and I hope

he never experiences this same feeling.

I want to tell him to stop.
I want to tell him that he’s worth it.
I want to tell him that there’s more to life.

 

But my lips are glued shut.

Instead I immediately flashback to my middle school crush.
His name still
leaves scars in my mind.

Nick.

n for extremely nice
i for instantly can make anybody smile.
c for constantly on my mind.
k

  for

     killed

           himself

 

I think about him more than I should.

But some people don’t think about him at all.
Maybe it’s because they don’t want to hurt.
Maybe it’s because they still don’t believe he’s gone.

But he’s gone.

he’s gone
he’s gone
he’s gone
he’s gone

How many times do I have to say it until it leaves scars in your mind like it did to mine?
How many times do I have to tell people that killing yourself is permanent and there’s no going back?
How many times am I going to have to unglue my lips and tell the kids who are already so sure they have nothing to live for

that they’ll get through this?

I tear through the fear of telling them what to do because even if you’re saving their lives, they’ll still hate you for trying to get through to them.

But at this point I don’t care.

so I tell him that when you’re gone
you’re gone.
that one day you can be everything;
the brightness in a room,
a human of happiness,
somebody’s crush,
friend,
family.
until one day,
you can be nothing.

just an afterglow when the sun sets.
maybe the flicker of a light.
One day you’re filled with brightness and then in a flash everything can go dark.
once your gone,

you’re gone.
you’re gone.
you’re gone.
you’re gone.

And there will be nothing but


silence.

{I ask him, “do you really want to be gone forever?”}

 

     – j.ds

Violent Breaths

I melt into your charismatic olive colored eyes wishing that your lips could taste the cherry flavored chapstick on mine. I wish you could notice the redness in my cheeks and hear the loud beats when you’re sitting near me. With you, it feels like The 1975 band is playing the song, Somebody else.

 

I don’t want your body.

 

No, I don’t want to love you with my hands or my waist. I want to love you with my words. I want you to feel the love from my poetry sliding out from in between my lips as we kiss causing you to slither back to me as if you can’t resist this enchanting and magnetic connection that seems to exist.

 

But I hate to think about you with somebody else.

 

Yes, I know that maybe boys these days need to release the desire that they have within, but I don’t want that to be the reason for loving you. Most girls could try to love you the way I would but most won’t be able to succeed. I want to fill in your emptiness with love instead of fumes and fill your heart with a fire of passion instead of a fire from the things you smoke causing your lungs to fill up with ash. I want you to burn red instead of black, this way you can feel warmth from the waves of kisses instead of your lips kissing the cigarettes instead.

 

Our love has gone cold.

 

I’ve always loved you, even though I know I shouldn’t. Except how can I stop loving you if you keep tempting me. Your eyes aren’t the only thing that destroys my thoughts of knowing what to do and choosing right from wrong. But your laugh pulls me in and you easily have me lost in your smile. A crooked smile with not so perfect teeth, but a smile worth remembering. I circle back to the memories from the first time we met. You smile, and I wonder if it’s because of me, or because you’re feeling a little delirious. And I know that if that’s the reason as to why you’re so happy, I can’t do anything to change it.

 

You’re intertwining your soul with somebody else.

 

And I wish I knew how to help you. It sounds dumb when a person says they want to “help somebody”. But when I say it to you, I wish that you could see the one person who would be by you if you stopped looking for the feeling of euphoria in the grey smoke that rests in your lungs. Sooner or later you’re going to be the one resting in a coffin underneath a gravestone and I don’t want to be the one to say, “I told you so,” because how am I supposed to look at the letters of your name after you’ve passed and not feel ashamed for loving somebody who just wanted to end their life so badly?

 

I melt into your charismatic olive colored eyes wishing that your lips could taste the cherry flavored chapstick on mine. I wish you could notice the redness in my cheeks and hear the loud beats when your sitting near me. With you, it feels like The 1975 band is playing the song, Somebody else.

-j.ds

 

A Girl Is A Gun

 

Survivors

returned from spring break

to prison.

 

students

entered campus

 

see-through backpacks

gunning down

classmates and teachers

 

privacy –

a home destroyed

 

worth

life

political statements

 

“we stand together”

“we refuse to be nothing”

 

ORANGE = violation of privacy!

not safety and security

 

“girls have no privacy”

feminine products won’t last a week with metal detection.

weapons in school?

firearms < dangerous people

 

the gunman was a tragedy many of us think used tissue paper to obscure the contents of his bag.

 

common sense ≠ gun legislation

 

safety

education

creativity

it feels like a jail cell.

– j.ds

 

Everything Is Changing

I sway to the beats of our song,

and I immediately flashback to your eyes scanning my body.

I remember my lips move to form the next few words,

“I don’t care about him anymore,”

 

But

actions speak louder than words

 

And no matter how hard I try to push him away,

Somehow his body keeps coming closer and closer to me.

I don’t want him in my head anymore.

 

I don’t want him.
I don’t want him.

I don’t want

 

him

 

This time, I want somebody else.

 

This time, I want to be able to move my lips to form the next few words,

and look up at this boy with silver eyes and say,

 

“I want you.”

 

But

actions speak louder than words

 

And no matter how hard I try to bring him closer,

Somehow his body keeps going further and further away.

I want him in my head.

 

I want him.

I want him.

 

I want

 

him

 
– j.ds

 

Do You Really Want To Be Gone Forever?

One minute we’re talking about video games and the next he whispers,

“I want to kill myself”

looking at him I feel the sadness running up my throat.
the feeling of not having any oxygen to breathe in begins
I look at him and I hope

he never experiences this same feeling.

I want to tell him to stop.
I want to tell him that he’s worth it.
I want to tell him that there’s more to life.

 

But my lips are glued shut.

Instead I immediately flashback to my middle school crush.
His name still
leaves scars in my mind.

Nick.

n for extremely nice
i for instantly can make anybody smile.
c for constantly on my mind.
k

  for

     killed

           himself

 

I think about him more than I should.

But some people don’t think about him at all.
Maybe it’s because they don’t want to hurt.
Maybe it’s because they still don’t believe he’s gone.

But he’s gone.

he’s gone
he’s gone
he’s gone
he’s gone

How many times do I have to say it until it leaves scars in your mind like it did to mine?
How many times do I have to tell people that killing yourself is permanent and there’s no going back?
How many times am I going to have to unglue my lips and tell the kids who are already so sure they have nothing to live for

that they’ll get through this?

I tear through the fear of telling them what to do because even if you’re saving their lives, they’ll still hate you for trying to get through to them.

But at this point I don’t care.

so I tell him that when you’re gone
you’re gone.
that one day you can be everything;
the brightness in a room,
a human of happiness,
somebody’s crush,
friend,
family.
until one day,
you can be nothing.

just an afterglow when the sun sets.
maybe the flicker of a light.
One day you’re filled with brightness and then in a flash everything can go dark.
once your gone,

you’re gone.
you’re gone.
you’re gone.
you’re gone.

And there will be nothing but


silence.

{I ask him, “do you really want to be gone forever?”}

 

     – j.ds

Hey Listen I Really Really Love You Okay?

“Hey listen I really really love you okay?”

 

You said this to me in our last civil conversation. After that, every good thing about you and me disappeared. Hugging you felt empty. Kissing you made me feel like I was making out with space. But not with the stars or with Saturn that has a ring of love floating around it. Like Saturn’s ring, you said you’d be the one to put a ring on my finger. But kissing you felt like I was falling into a pit of darkness and around me was nothing but you fading away and I was 888.2 million miles from the sun entrapped in black space. People say that when somebody tells you that they love you the relationship only gets better. But with you, it only got worse And I don’t like the feeling of loving darkness or wrapping my arms around a ghost.

-j.ds

You’re Still Searching For Me In Every Woman

H.

Hell is what I drown into every time I look in your eyes. I hate you but I miss you. She holds your hands as you both walk away in a different direction. I never knew how she could have such a positive influence on you. I think maybe she’s better for you. Maybe then, with her you could become a better person. Maybe you could learn to love somebody new.

 

E.

Every day, I see you looking into her eyes. Trying to find a reason to continue instead of turning back towards me. I know you miss me. Or maybe that’s what I want to think. But all I know is that you keep looking for pieces of me in her. You keep trying to find an angel that could bring your heart back to heaven. You keep trying to find girls who have hazel green eyes that remind you of mine. You’re hoping that everytime you look into those new eyes, you could find me.

 

Rachel must love you. Or maybe she can learn to love you and every loathsome thing about you. I know you blame me for hurting you. I know you blame me for not talking to you last summer. But now you’re making it apparent that you’re trying to find another version of me in somebody else. Yet don’t you realize, you can’t find something that’s already broken and already gone. I know you’re going to keep trying to search for me in every woman. But all you’re going to find is a woman by the name Rachel. Her name might sound different than mine, but when she loves you, if she loves you, she will never be able to love you like I did.

– J.ds

 

I Still Think Of You

I’m lying on my bed looking up at the ceiling,

and I think of you.

My eyes glaze over the strange looking figures in the darkness,

but I still think of you.

 

I guess,

even when my mind is supposed to turn off,

even when the dark figures send signals of fear to my brain,

I still think of you.

I used to be afraid of the dark.

But now every time my heart beats faster and faster

and my body begins to feel chills of hot and cold under these blankets that feel heavy on my skeleton body at midnight,

I still think of you.

But I don’t think I’m thinking of you the way that I want to.

 

Instead, I think you’re the thing that’s making me feel scared at night.

You’re making me lose consciousness of what’s real and what’s not,

and sure,

Even if I can’t truly see in the middle of the night,

I can still feel what’s right and what’s wrong.

 

I still think of you.

But I no longer like to imagine your body as a figure in the darkness,

I no longer like the way you’d make me touch you

or how it felt to be touched by you.

 

I might still think of you but all I want is to get rid of you.

I want to be able to sleep at night to get rid of the monstrosity in my mind.

I no longer want to have to keep looking under my bed and praying that I won’t find you hiding.

I no longer want to feel unsafe in my own room.

 

I hear footsteps almost every night and think of your brother.

How he used to bang his feet so forcefully that the walls in your home would shake.

Now every night I’m reminded of you.

I’m reminded of how you used to use your body to bang me,

not sexually,

but your hands would hold mine too aggressively,

and your negative words and actions would bang so strongly into me you’d cause the walls in the home of my heart to shatter.  

 

I still think of you,

but I wish I could stop.

-j.ds