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princeofprosee · 1 month

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9.23

I am not burning bridges. I am poking the ash caricature of those bridges with a stick and watching it collapse below my feet into the raging river below.

I am burning letters, giving back house keys and swallowing the past, manifesting as a lump in my throat.

I carry my sadness in the small pouch above my eyes

and you can see it there when it rains.

I have always pulled on the threads attached to people-

so maybe I can pull the darkness out

I’ve never been in the business of burning bridges

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princeofprosee · 1 month

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wrote this one a long time ago (Dec 2019 always wanted to share it with someone and never ended up- felt proud of it)

December 30th 2019 /// Fourty Three Things I Have Heard At Church Or In A Hospital

God, please not now / please give me another chance / please give her another choice / I want to climb Mount Everest before I die / I don't want to die / I want to die.

It's only Tuesday / it hasn't even been a month since she died / I was fired two years ago and I haven't told a soul / yesterday I tried to kill myself / it's Friday and you haven't sent me a sign.

Sometimes I only come here so I can feel better about myself / I have heard so many confessions of love, lust and cheating; as if that's what God is about / I don't understand what God is about / sometimes I wish time would move slower / I wish I had more time.

I finally left him yesterday / I told her the truth / my tests came back good / I walked for the first time today / my son was born three days ago / my best friend got engaged last night / I meditated yesterday and time moved slower.

I remember how to breathe again / I don't know where I've been for the past 6 years / I feel like me again for the first time in a decade / my mom called me a tree kissing hippie and she might be right / I can breathe easier in the fall.

my plane never came / the train I was going to ride crashed / there was an accident / she didn't make it / I am so sorry / I said what I said / I have never lied to you / I lied to you.

I almost went back / I took two weeks off just to pray / I should have come sooner / I missed you so much

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princeofprosee · 1 month

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4.21.23

open my ribcage

flames and flowers spill out

I am too many stories to be told in one sitting

too much food to eat off one plate

run your fingers along my bare ribs

feel my energy in my tired bones

the burning that’s always been

I’ll paint a pretty picture

with pressed flowers and your favorite watercolors

a pretty sunset, a stunning bouquet

anything to scream the words

“I want to be beautiful!”

open my ribcage;

a robin flies out

her perfect nest left behind

I promise I will nurture your babies

and teach them how to love

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princeofprosee · 1 month

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Flowers (circa 2019)

i lied

flowers are everywhere

inside of my lungs

they are very beautiful

but i cannot breathe

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princeofprosee · 1 month

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0.7.19

rambling prose pt. 1

sometimes if i sit very still and breathe very deeply i can transport myself back to my childhood best friends living room.

if i do this, when i do this, i see her smiling face again, a symbol of innocence and beauty. i feel the gentle sounds of her fingers plucking a guitar with the rain tap, tap, tapping on the windows. sometimes, i can even taste homemade pesto sauce, dairy free dinners and popcorn with yeast and butter. i can hear the sound of a doorbell and the smell of rain.

if i close my eyes and focus really hard-

i can be 14 again, and i still know my way around that small town. i can navigate through in my mind / it's interesting what time does to the brain.

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princeofprosee · 1 month

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10.20.19

anxiety is nicotine.

and by that, I mean the way it seeps through my veins faster than coffee but slower than blood.

Depression is lukewarm coffee at 9pm on a Tuesday.

and by that, I mean every day runs at warp speed / and I miss the milestones

my blood is made of

nicotine and coffee / muffins and tea / poison and toast

Anxiety is nicotine / and by that I mean / I am trying to quit / but like clouds before a thunderstorm / you'll follow me through

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princeofprosee · 1 month

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1.6.19

I haven't been able to write

and by that I mean

when I sit at my computer and try to get my thoughts out

my arteries become blocked and

nothing comes

It's like putting out maple syrup for bees / it only works 50% of the time.

I don't listen to 1985 anymore for the same reason I don't listen to 2012 pop songs

because every memory is tainted and I know I am moving on

I am getting through this

but that doesn't mean that I don't miss screaming along to the same songs

this year has made me

absloutely crazy

and by that I mean

I don't sleep anymore

I just lay in bed and try not to have nightmares.

I lost parts of myself

in the fight

pieces of me were

chipped away like

I am an ice block

being carved into a beautiful masterpiece

so maybe it's okay that I'm a little broken

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princeofprosee · 1 month

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11.7.19

in the darkest corners of my life

hope is hidden in a box

and rarely comes to play anymore;

but i was walking down the street one day and I saw hope in a sunflower growing on someone's fence, as if someone had told it not to grow and the sunflower ignored them.

I saw hope in the clouds in the night sky

covering every star

i tasted hope in

poems from my heart

words collected from the darkest corners of my soul

I found hope in a coffee shop in Michigan /

where the bread was stale and the best thing about the coffee was the cream

I found hope in myself when the darkness started to take over my mind.

I have raindrops of hope collected in the clouds above my head.

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princeofprosee · 1 month

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11.22.19

i talked to my therapist about you / I didn't tell her I still see your indent on the couch cushions

instead I told her the story of two boys who fell in love and became the biggest catastrophe I'd never been a part of.

Instead of needing to

over explain (I write about him still not because I want him back,

but because grief works in many ways)

She asked me to just say how I feel

I didn't tell her about how sometimes if I close my eyes and breathe deeply I can teleport myself back to the kitchen of my best friend before everything began / and I didn't tell her I've started to forget the sound of your voice

which is a good thing / maybe a great thing

but most importantly she helped me to understand

it's okay that I'm grieving

and it's okay that the garden in my soul doesn't have room for you to grow anymore

I am starting to

reclaim myself

reclaim late nights, coffee dates, notebooks covered in doodles

Grief works in a million different ways

maybe there will always be a quiet voice in the back of my head wondering if you're okay

and maybe that's alright.

I am growing.

I am moving forward.

and I don't call the spot on the couch

where you sat for billions of little moments

yours

Anymore.

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princeofprosee · 1 month

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6.14.19

Eight Things I Wish I Would’ve Known Two Years Ago

1. Be weary of people who trust just anyone, but be careful of people who don't trust anybody.

2. Sometimes the best possible thing you can do for yourself is to be a selfish asshole to get yourself safe.

3. You'll have to learn #2 many times over the next two years

4. ^ but in the end, your middle school best friend was right. If it isn't okay, it isn't the end (and so it isn't the end)

5. It's okay to eat an entire cake by yourself within a week of buying it

6. "what is stronger than the human heart which shatters over and over and still lives”. ― Rupi Kaur.

7. There is no "worst" type of heartache. They can all break you, and only you can make yourself "whole"

8. Love is the purest form of stitching to help with the mending of your soul .

#shittypoetry #should have stayed in the drafts #poetry #poems

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princeofprosee · 1 month

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4.5.23

we’ll always have the Midwest

the beautiful kaleidoscope of colors in the fall

you’ll see me speak in metaphor

the way I always have

and of course; you don’t understand.

I’ll always check in the mirror twice before leaving my house

I see souls in these colors on these trees,

Beautiful fully grown souls-souls waiting for another chance

another opportunity to seize the day

the leaves fall and gather

my metaphors go in your ears and fly over your head

my thick, strong native tongue of similes and comparisons and thunderstorms.

they say language is an art you practice

a muscle you exercise

so let me write this piece

let me get all the dirt out of the lenses of my glasses

let me check the mirror one last time

look into a kaleidoscope

wake up to the morning sun

We’ll always have the fall.

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princeofprosee · 1 month

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Back Home, Again?

2.11.23

back home again is such a bittersweet feeling

this is where i grew up; where i became an adult

where i learned to love

this is where i became a man.

there’s something to say about someone who just keeps ending up home.

did i leave too soon?

so my distant relatives look at me and ask where I’ve been and all the things I’ve done.

I can’t even say I’ve started writing again, because that doesn’t mean anything to anyone but me.

I wanted life experience, well, here we go.

I’m home again. Everything is familiar.

I know this bus route like the back of my hand.

I can close my eyes and still walk directly to my nearest gas station.

There’s a certain comfort, a certain feeling that encompasses you with the warmth of a blanket out of the dryer.

and you meet up with old friends who are completely different people now

of course, i am too. i am not the same man who left for minnesota.

i am also not the same person who’s been trying so desperately to leave for the past 3 years.

so much has changed. and I’m home again.

home is such a heavy word.

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princeofprosee · 1 month

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not sure when this one is from, sometime in 2020-23-

I’ve stopped dreaming about you.

I think.

It’s funny, thinking about the people that come and go from my life.

millions of little moments lost in memories.

Is it snowing for you?

sometimes I think about how you will change and evolve and become someone I never knew

to be fair, did I know you to begin with?

I think I’m finally processing

swimming through the waves

I’m writing again,

but I haven’t told anybody

I’m scared to jinx it.

It’s just been in my mind

little metaphors dancing in my head

like the way I used to dance around in conversation

Is it snowing for you?

Sometimes I wonder if you had dreams about me too.

I wonder if I occupied your mind longer than I felt like I did.

I wonder if you ever really thought about me.

I’m writing again.

Is it snowing for you?

Merry Christmas.

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princeofprosee · 1 month

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7.18.21

I exist in between the deep breaths-

Underneath the rage or hope;

I exist in the maybes and the somedays

the nevers and the always

I come alive in the blank spaces between words

The “ands” and “ifs”

I exist in the spaces between the chords

I live freely in the memories

In the hellos and the spaces after

and in the spot where the sky meets the earth

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princeofprosee · 1 month

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8.15.20?

Examine the cracks across our skin

millions of cells breaking down and recreating themselves

so that one day I will have a body he never touched

personal growth can't be measured

it is not two cups of sugar or half a stick of butter

it is not loving someone dispite hating yourself

personal growth is more like knitting

with practice and patience

you can redo your progress

even when ten stitches break out.

I have loved and been loved with a fire that refuses to burn out

sometimes this has been the worst experience

because my heart can be the most beautiful ship that hits an iceberg and sinks

or it can be the ship that rescued 706 people from a catastrophic heartbreak.

The cracks on my skin

the tunes I sing to myself during the day

the slight shift from Shakespeare to Vonnegut

from sad playlists on spotify

ringing through my small trailer

to happy songs

and dancing around the living room with Jasper

and morning cups of coffee

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princeofprosee · 1 month

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10.7.23

I know where this old roads leads

I know this route like the back of my hand-

‘Turn left here’

The trees fly by in a fuzzy haze, transitioning from dark and light greens to golds, reds and yellows

‘switch lanes, half a mile, turn right’

the music swirls in the air

‘straight for another two miles, then go down main street”

the moons light seems to seeps through the window and whisper into my ear

telling me the same story she’s always told me

it doesn’t have any words-

it is more something you understand

you feel it inside of you

she speaks in a tongue our brains cannot comprehend

but our souls speak fluently

‘another left’

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princeofprosee · 1 month

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currently listening too: Send Me On My Way (Boy Meets Girl)

March. 27 2021

Nostalgia tastes like letting go;

Like my old favorite songs and reading my poetry from when I first moved to Idaho: bittersweet and desperate for a way out.

moving on feels like acceptance - I will not go back to who I used to be in the same way that when I graduated from high school I knew I’d never have the same relationship with my best friend.

the same way that 2020 tasted like maple leaves, pepto bismol, day old pizza and microwave dinners.

I have been so many people that are so vastly different and some days it overwhelms me like floating in the ocean waiting for the waves to bring you closer to the shore - like being lost in a city you’ve never been too.

sometimes I forget I know how to swim.

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