Downward Spiral

We are all

Silently licking 

Wounds

Waiting

For scar tissue

To protect

Our minds

To forget

Our hearts to

Forgive

I am my worst

Enemy

Conjuring ghosts 

Of my past

That

Thievishly

Haunt my present

Leaving me with

That sinking feeling

That hangs on

Too often 

Too long

Overwhelming 

As life goes on

Around me

Lost and alone

In a room 

Full of friends

My only ally 

Leaving me

Feeling pulled 

By the train whistle

Distracted by the wind

The restlessness always

Percolating in my veins

Like a caged animal
Compulsively looking 

Over my shoulder
Waiting for someone 

To break me free
Not realizing 

I am the only one

With that power.

~Amber C. Smith 2013

Worship

He wants to worship me

But my hands are dirty

And my dress is torn

His faith is shaky

And the confessionals

Are closed at three am

When the alcohol and Valium

Cloud those

Blue 

Eyes 

Gray

With doubt

My knees are bruised 

From kneeling so long

On this 

Filthy

Concrete

Floor

Have I repented enough

To let the light back in?

~Amber C. Smith (August 2013)

Lost Sunlight

We walked along the railroad tracks

To lead us to school and back home

You and me with our 

Mismatched

High top

Pink and yellow converse

Graffitied with The Cramps, Dead Kennedys, and Circle Jerks

Middle school was fucking brutal

Beating us down daily 

Walking those tracks with you

Was the only thing I looked forward to

I would watch the sunlight 

Getting lost in your 

Strawberry blonde curls

Listened to your soft voice

Talk about hard stuff like

Music, alcohol, and getting out of this town

The days Cold War drills

And comments from cruel kids

Would finally escape me

You had to be my first real love

My heart would race to see you

And when you stayed home sick

Walking those tracks never felt lonelier

I wish his fingers never found me that night

I wish running with you could have worked out

But we all know how fast the world 

Can swallow two teenage girls

I have carved more lost loves in my skin than I have room for

I hope I can give up the dream of grabbing your hand to jump on that train that will make everything okay

I hope you can bury my wasted love in your chest and one day the most beautiful flowers will bloom 

That even a cynic like you will be compelled to water them with the tears you cry from remembering me.

~Amber C. Smith (Lammas 2013)