Author: Chloe Russell

sink in

let out

breathe

mattress is too soft

and the springs are too hard

and this is nothing

nothing at all

because it doesn’t matter

none of it matters and it’s all funny

hilarious

i laugh till I cry

and i cry until i heave

and i heave until i panic

then break down

and cry

and cry

and cry

until i can’t see anymore

and all is dark

and lonely

i am nothing

yet everything

and everything matters now

so i sew my lips shut

and don’t laugh anymore

laughing is unacceptable

though i was only hours before

or minutes

or seconds

small ant bites

and bee stings

across my arms

and legs

and chest

fingernails bleed

and i kiss them gently

on my knuckles there is pink

pink skin

colored by crayons

or markers

i can never quite tell

i dont know if i’m

living

or

existing

or are they the same?

i breathe again

just to let it out

and none of it matters

but i over think it any way

then it’s too important

and my knees and shivering

and my spine is shaking

i am a tree

swaying in a forest fire

and none of it makes sense

i am an incoherent thought

melting faces

and sticky toes

my tongue is too big

and i chew on it like bubble gum

and pretend

that it’s my last meal

ulcers coat my cheeks

i remind myself that pain is an illusion

just your brain letting your body know something is wrong

if you didn’t have a sense of touch you

wouldn’t feel at all

it isn’t real

i’m not there any more

and when i get my heart broken

it will heal

even if it physically stings and burns

promise me marriage

i’m aware it is just for show

it makes me feel loved

important

essential

significant

something

give me something to hold onto

that isn’t worry

and panic

maybe if i jump

my head will crack on the pavement

and people will think that matters

because everything matters

even if it is meaningless

even if this is just repetition

life is only a question

following more questions

don’t become self aware

or wonder what it’s like to have a different brain

it only makes it more unbearable

everyone is miserable

remember that

no one is truly happy

but we are all trying to be okay

we are trying to matter

even if it’s just pretend

even if it is just in illusion

sink in

let out

breathe

Alright guys

prepare yourselves

this is a conversation that absolutely no one cares about, but I do so here we are.

First of all, the letter Q is the bane of my existence. It serves no purpose and frustrates me to no end. I know you are thinking, “Why chloe? Why does something as small as a letter make you so mad? What’s wrong with it?”

Well…

The letter Q is as dependent letter, meaning it can’t make it’s sound without using a ‘u’. Now. It would be so incredibly simple to change words like “Quiet” into a another form that makes the same sound and uses the same amount of letters. This discovery should dethrone the letter Q from his place in the alphabet.

Kwiet/Cwiet

SEE????

DO
YOU
SEE

The letter Q is unnecessary, and what makes it even worse EVEN WORSE my friends, is that the Q can make the C/K sound, as in the word, “Clique.”

w h a t

We already have two letters that make that sound

not one

T W O

WE DON’T NEED ANOTHER ONE
WHO CAME UP WITH THIS

anyways…

this brings us to my next point.

why do we have to letters that make the same sound? Why are there some cases in which we put them together as in the word “duck?” NOT NEEDED. IT DOESN’T MAKE THE WORD ANY DIFFERENT. Also why, why, why, why, can the ‘C’ Make the ‘S’ sound but the ‘K’ can’t????????? In what universe does that makes since???? THEY MAKE THE SAME. SOUND. WHY DOES ONE GET SPECIAL PRIVILEGES

AND THIS

THIS IS JUST ONE OF MANY INSTANCES WHERE LETTERS GET TO STEAL OTHER LETTERS SOUNDS.

let’s move to my next example

The ‘F’

so, just a question, who gave ‘ph’ the right to take the ‘F’ sound as their own? Why do they get to do that???? “alphabet” “Phonics” “phone” The list goes on and on. This isn’t fair. Why are we making words harder to spell??? Who did this? WHO DID THIS???

This is injustice. This isn’t okay. WE DON’T NEED THESE.

and now

now we have arrived

at silent letters.

“opossum” “Dumb” “Butcher” “Ghost”

WHAT
WHAT
WHAT
WHAT
no.

guys, by now you HAVE to see my point. There’s no need. And these aren’t even all the problems. What about plurals? What about the ‘oo’making sound ‘u’  makes What about past tense words using ‘ed’ to make the ‘t’ sound? Can you hear a difference in stopped and stopt???? NO. I SIMPLIFIED IT.

this just isn’t it. it just makes no sense absolutely no sense and the thing is, as you are reading, you will come up with more. the harder you think the more questions will arise until you are consumed with the question “WHY?”

Arkansas. Kansas.
WHAT

I don’t get it. I just don’t.

Now keep in mind, this has not been a rant. This is a protest. I am raising awareness of the idiocy of it all. Now everyone who reads will get to understand that there is stupidity in all things, even something as vital as written language.

Thank you, goodnight.

 

 

 

---

No one:

Absolutely no one:

Not a soul:

Literally no one ever: 

Chloe: thE alFAbEt iS sToOpId

I was scrolling through my old files and I found this gem. Guys, was I really this needy last year? gross

---

Beautifully Painful
My confidence is like the wind,
it comes and goes with your emotions.
Sometimes you make me a hurricane.
Sometimes I’m a soft ocean breeze.
Sometimes I don’t even exist.

Your internal clock is strange,
your time changes too quickly.
Why one minute do you cherish me,
and the next minute I am only the wind in your steps,
the breeze that follows your feet?
Something that is just a given.

Do not take me for granted.
I am not the laces on your shoes,
the drawstrings on your joggers,
nor the button of your pants.
I am not a given.

You tend to act like I am though,
and I forgive you,
but I must ask you to stop.
I must ask you to appreciate me.

Without me you would crumble,
we both know that;
I am not a liar.

You need me,
I know you do.
You know you do.

And strangely enough,
I need you too.
No matter that horrible thing
that I said in an argument

I didn’t mean it.
I know im not perfect either.
I’m bossy.
I’m rude.
Unfair.
I know.

But I do love you,
with every piece of myself
All of it is yours.

I love that you love me, too,
no matter the pain that comes of it.

I would scrape the moon from the sky for you,
never forget that.

 

---

W H Y

if only i had been there when you were born

i bet your eyes were beautiful

and your nose rounded, tiny as a button

i’m sure the nurses and doctors

swooned as they set you in your mother’s arms

little did they know…

if only i had been there when you were brought home

when your brother held you

when the mystery man that was your father

probably wasn’t even there

if only i had been there when your sister

was brought into this world with pneumonia in her lungs

and her tiny chest clenched under clouds of cigarette smoke

if only i had been there when you were nine years old

walking around the streets  alone

with nothing to protect yourself but your baby teeth

already visiting milestones you shouldn’t have had to-

that you shouldn’t have even known about

if only i had been there when you lived in that hotel

when your mother came home

still decked out in her revealing work clothes

and passed out on the floor

then proceeded to cover herself in

feces, urine, and bile 

and as your sister poked at her

your brother told her to stop because

she was probably going to die

all the while you ate chips in front of a TV

if only i had been there when you poured alcohol

down your throat for the first time

such a young age to be destroying your liver

such a young age to search for escape

if only i had been there the first time you

questioned your existence

which was probably much earlier than i’d like to think

if only i had been there when your tummy

began to cave in on itself

because there wasn’t enough food

and if their was the roaches would claim it first

when your skin was frail because there wasn’t enough love

if only i had been there when you smoked your first cigarette

just to cough and continue

because a habit made you feel more real

if only i had been there when your mother came home

piss drunk and higher than mount denali

when you drug her inside and she hit you

and hit you and hit you

until you pushed back and she fell

screaming

you’re not my son, you’re not my son

if only i had been there when you

swore to yourself

you’d never fall in love

but did it anyway

all for girls who would break you down

and use you

and lie, and lie, and lie

to break your trust

just like all the rest

if only i had been there when you gave up

on anything and everyone

just to yell  

to clouds

secretly hoping God may hear you

if only i had been there when you told girls

they were beautiful

to fill in their insecurities

not because you meant it

but because it was easy

and they would open up every time

so that you could find release

since that is what you were taught to do

by your own mother

to use and use and use

until there is nothing left

and you have to find another fix

if only i had been there.

if only i had been there.

now you are the plate your mother flung at the wall

behind her boyfriends head

where it broke and shattered

i am still sweeping up the pieces and

picking shards from the carpet

i will find all of them soon

and slowly glue them back together

there will still be the jagged lines form the forceful blow

but there won’t be a single missing piece

you will be whole

no matter how scarred

if only i had been there

i would have rather been there

not because my life was worse

god no

it was sunshine and daisies

and lilypads and water hoses

open fields and love

slip ‘n slides and winter coats

weekends with my grandparents and trips to disney world

where i complained about the blisters on my feet

while you begged for a light in the dark

my father built me a swing of rubber and rope

and i would fly as high as the house

to jump into a kiddie pool my mom had bought

i remember the feeling of the sun on my skin

and the wind in my face

and i can’t help but wonder what was happening to you

in those moments

i would give up every memory

to have been there

if only i had been there

if only i had been beside you

if only i had held you

if only i had carried you away from hell

if only i had been yours.

if only i had saved you the heartache

if only if only if only if only

“what would you have done?”

now you are looking at me

strange smile

almost angry

disbelieving

i touch the palm of your hand to my lips

“well…” i lay my cheek in your hand

“i would have loved you… and i think that’s all you ever wanted.”

people would rather you be sad 

than bitter. i suppose they

find that easier

 

because at least when

you’re sad, 

it’s only you,

and your contemplation of

suicide

isn’t their fault

 

bitterness forces them to look in the mirror

and god forbid them having 

to see them selves. 

 

Bukowski was a wonderful poet

who became bitter 

following his sadness. 

 

the people liked him better before

when he slit his wrists, 

tried to suffocate himself with gas

 

they thought that better 

than a life spent 

drowning himself in liquor 

and hating the world.

 

regardless of opinion,

the bitter made him live longer.

he died at 74 

after battling leukemia

 

i can’t tell if that’s better.

 

often times he wrote

that God is dead.

his poetry was madness

disgusting

disrespectful

sometimes none of that

sometimes all 

 

maybe that made him 

interesting 

 

despite his flaws,

i am curious

if he went to heaven. 

 

do men who live a life

in hell

deserve to return in death? 

 

or is that another question

i’m not supposed to ask. 

 

there was once a way i looked at things

with side ways glances 

or just a smile 

i never looked long enough 

to see just how much damage 

there was held behind your eyes

i’m sorry now 

i apologize for every moment of mistreatment 

and ignorance 

i am here now

i am who i always needed to be 

who you needed me to be 

i wish i would have always been this person

i would give up the world for you

if human hands could touch the sun

i would pluck it from the sky

and give it to you 

i would steal the light from the rest of the universe 

just so you wouldn’t have to spend another moment in darkness

no one could hurt you again 

you’d be so bright 

and never feel pain again

i had forgotten what is was like to be loved

maybe I had just never felt it 

I was lied to 

I was never felt 

or seen 

I was only touched 

or gawked at 

until you 

who looks past my skin 

into the muscles that move only for you 

who feels me 

every freckle and scar

it has been so long since someone worked to have me 

actually 

it never has happened 

you are a daydream I had when I was young

how is it that you feel just like it?

how is it that no matter what you do I crave you?

you don’t have to be perfect for me 

you can be impatient 

short tempered

as long as you come back down to love me 

as long as you keep looking at me the way you do 

I can still see the love in your eyes through the blaze

I can see the future in your calloused hands

 

 

 

The first man I ever loved was my grandfather. He was better than my father at the time. He loved me with every shred of his soul and my heart filled with joy every time he held my tiny hands. I remember being very young and seeing how much he loved my grandmother. He showed her in every way: words, actions, smiles, and the genuine amount of care he held in his strong hands.
My grandmother was very sick, so when I wanted to go out somewhere PawPaw was my
Go to. At least once a week we would go to Wards in the afternoon, where I always ordered popcorn chicken and greasy fries. He wouldn’t let me eat it until we got to a park called Coopers Ferry.
Cooper’s Ferry was a beautiful place when I was little. The bridges wrapped around the bank of a lake and there was an old water wheel that I loved to watch spin. Upon entrance to the park were sidewalks that let up to the pavillion where picnic tables were set up. There, I would eat my ketchup- drenched food while he ate a salad and either a chicken sandwich or a burger. After, we would walk on the bridges.
Above the bridges were Sweet Gum trees that dropped their seeds called Sweet Gum Balls. These Sweet Gum balls are spikey and usually brown once they’ve fallen. In the summer they covered the pathway of the bridge. I loved them, for whatever reason, and would lift the hem of my shirt to my belly button, creating a pouch to hold as many of them as possible.
My PawPaw would laugh at me for this, and crunch them under his raggedy brown sandals, just to see my aggravation. However, I could never stay frustrated with him long. I always broke out into a fit of giggles. We would stay at that park for hours. As a child, those hours felt like years. I loved those moments then as much as I do now. I didn’t know it, but i was feeling love at its purest.
Time went by and suddenly I was fifteen, searching through boys. I tested out a few, one of them I let hang on a little too long. He hurt me and broke me down, but my pawpaw was still there. His smile was still as bright as the sunny summer days, even with the deeper laugh lines. He told me, then, that God would give me someone who I needed, I just had to have faith. He told me that God gave him my grandmother, despite every hardship they encountered, and they ended up just fine. I realized in these moments I needed a love like that: one that was made in heaven.
And there you were. Always in the background, always encouraging me, always honest, always pushing me to be better. How could I have not known these past few years? Maybe I was afraid of it. Afraid to be truly loved.
Now, you are nothing like my grandfather. From the outside, you seem harsh. Beaten. But within you there is so much more. My grandfather is the opposite: soft and beaming on the outside, keeping his struggles within himself so that he could steady everyone else. But the intensity of the love is the same. It’s like fire, engulfing things completely.
You are what I always dreamed of, and I pray it never leaves. I pray that we can have faith to get through every hardship we encounter, and end up just fine.

hung by a single word

not a feeling

or a kiss

tied together by a sole emotion

no touch

forbidden

if you be my fruit

then I’ll be your tree

you’ll bloom from me

and I will stay healthy for you

my veins are roots

and your heart is an apple

what is that word that separates us?

i forget

i always forget

until you are picked rudely from my branch

and I am immobile

I may do nothing to stop it

I cannot move

You reassure me as you are bitten into

all that work to make you ripe

to be eaten to your core

---

 

 

Underneath your clean fingernails

beyond your soft hair 

inside your empty pores

into a heart full.

I love to swim through your veins 

I’m sorry for pricking your smooth skin

there are a few of my edges that haven’t rounded 

I’m sanding them down

making sure I don’t miss any points.

you bite my lip 

prevent me from kicking over loose stones again. 

I’m sorry I’m not quite steady.

I’m working on it 

I’m going to be.

Soon, I’ll be such a good swimmer your body will have to absorb me 

as a necessary protein

or vitamin

you’ll need me without consciously knowing it 

I will be the one who is there when your sugar is too low 

when your blood pressure soars 

when your skin cracks from the lack of sunshine. 

let me show you how it feels to be taken care of.