thieves that smash their goodsit's not you,thieves that smash their goods5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
it is you.
in that case,
i'll be taking
my life back.
(assuming it still exists)
Coincidence or Fate ? Neither.i'm done personifying lettersCoincidence or Fate ? Neither.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and juxtaposing love and life
and recreating conversations
that will never mean anything
because we're not something.
you will always be an initial
for some unknown acronym
weighing my dried-up lungs
(the scale is two hours fast)
according to you, Subtlety
is a synonym for Sarcasm;
according to you, attention
isn't symbolic of anything.
your mind games aren't sports,
and literary death isn't athletic.
unaware, Irony headlocked me
and i was already stuck in your
Kids, don't try this at home!
[but feel free to try it
in someone else's home,
in someone else's heart,
in someone else's poem]
signals can lie, this
you'll never admit:
you can deny it till
your boxes unpack
till your clothes unfold,
unlike this silent drama
that will always remain
in your fucking suitcase.
This, you admit to everyone:
i met Love before i met you.
since we're strictly platonic,
here's a 'friendly' reminder:
Nostalgia is a
because we love shooting starsif we shoot the sky with an ak47,because we love shooting stars5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the stars will bleed comets on Earth
well, if we're dead,
we can't enjoy their light,
and i can't enjoy you
if we shoot the sky with a camera,
the stars will develop into a memory
well, if we share a memory,
it'll be stuck in my head for years
if we shoot the sky coquettish looks,
the stars will be too jealous to flirt back
well, if even the stars envy you,
there's no fucking hope for me
let's just not shoot the stars at all;
my telescope prefers constellations, anyway
well, you'd rather strip Orion's belt than mine,
so i beg you to asphyxiate me with what's
already killing me anyway
forgetting to shower a compassi've got bad thoughts,forgetting to shower a compass5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
bad, bad thoughts
oh, but you keep
dirtying my soap,
so guess who i'll
keep blaming for
i have what you want;
you want what i have.
we would be together
if these majorly minor
(&u) would cooperate
but alas, i can't control the space( bar ) time(signature)
continuum of this fuucked-uup excuse for a math problem
(i'm musically-challenged, after all;
yet you're too far for it to matter.)
i should be, too,
but we can't all
get what i want
i'll be your shepherd,
if you'll be my scapegoat
lets jump off the Eiffel Towerif this is your first time reading this,lets jump off the Eiffel Tower5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Right here, right now
youYES YOU, stop.
Make sure you know,
this is not a suggestion;
this is a fact, a command.
Try to remember:
This is NOT a formula for altruism.
This is NOT a masqueraded apology.
This is NOT a dysphoric cry for help.
This is robbing word banks for lines,
then cutting the front of the lexicon.
This is adding insult to libel,
injury to a broken mandible
one that never spoke anyway.
if you've felt like this before,
stab me three times in the jaw.
Qu'est ce que l'amour?
if this is your second time reading this,
slam your head into an oven
like fucking Sylvia Plath;
maybe then you'd get noticed.
And by you, I mean me,
and by me, I mean you,
and by that I mean fuck
This is adding sodium to a battle scar
and incessantly cussing in a papercut.
This is a masochist wearing bandages
to cover the fingers of virgins-in-denial.
This is slander and flattery and murder,
first-degree charges for lingui
memoirs of an everyday nothingConfession: i daydream about you daydreaming about me.memoirs of an everyday nothing5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Confession: he's really not that special, you know.
Confession: i just gagged.
his arms line her shoulderblade,
leading her on, down the halls...
they fit so perfectly
who am i, i ask?
who am i, when i'd rather be
waist-to-waist with anonymity?
who am i, when you replace
'suffrage' with 'suffer'?
don't answer that.
i know i'm just one
line in a song you'll never listen to
because i'm not the right genre---
there aren't enough innuendos
and my bassline fucking sucks;
i'm in the key of 'g minor'
and you prefer 'f major'
on second thought,
i'm not even a line--
i'm not even a word
or a chord or a beat
i'm a single brushstroke of a letter--
not just any letter, either:
the silent 'e' at the end of
some fake four letter word
Flaw: i'm not old enough to vote.
Flaw: you're too young to care.
Flaw: we're one-sided magnets.
and you, just an hour later,
are poking him for attention
a taxidermist in my spare timeit's always the last week of november when i'm making up statistics to say how awfully uncomprehensible i am. and it's always at exactly a quarter to eleven when i'm writing about nothing except for the vomit in your eyes or the blood in your mouth or another cliche of how pissed off/upset/overdramatica taxidermist in my spare time5 years ago in Teen More Like This
not in love,
and i am not dressing corpses in your clothes,
and i am not in love,
and i am not lying to 500 strangers right now,
and i am not in love,
and i am not pretending that the sweat in your hair or the vomit on your skin or the blood on our tongues is anything other than some absurd metaphor for
because i've been stuffing stockings with christmas lists three weeks early to get the only present i want/need/despise, which just so happens to be in the future, and i need a time machine just to visit it, because i really just want to
because i've been stuffi
another shitty chemistry poem:you're a rotten chemicalanother shitty chemistry poem:5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you pop up in every conversation
i'll ever have with anybody else.
your viral name spreads across
everyone and everything i know
i've figured out your middle name;
you're my favorite chemical
your ubiquity turns my flesh
bluer than the sky and ocean,
and as i'm lying on your bed,
it's just like a fucking horizon.
the clouds are running through
my veins, my thighs, and you
oh, you're like the ozone layer.
you're a deadly chemical
you're pure poison,
does it feel good.
snowstorms and polar tragedieswe are opposite ends of love's magnet:snowstorms and polar tragedies5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
repulsing to opposite ends of the map.
west, east, west, east, westwestwest.
if i wasn't lacking force,
i'd settle for the space
between your west hip
and east hip. but both
the coasts are flooding
from my eye's blizzards
(the weatherman says
it should last all week,
but i know he's lying.
my psychic predicted
three more decades)
Side A, Side B;
just friction in
its cruelest form.
You1 pushes me to
You2 pushes me to
if only physics were more charismatic...
A lesson in electromagnetism:
if one side is negative, the other is positive
A lesson in mathematics:
negative one plus positive one equals zero
A lesson in meteorology:
thirty degrees is not measured with calendars
but you do not teach me anything
applicable to reality, because with
you, who needs textbook real life.
A lesson in geography:
six hundred miles is not the same as six hundred miles
A lesson in geometry:
Irony 101Irony: the radio only seems to play the songs that remind me of youIrony 1015 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Irony: Russian Roulette is not the same when you win; neither is iTunes shuffle
Irony: Social Anxiety Disorder = SAD
Irony: a popsicle is not lunch
Irony: this format hurts my eyes,
Irony: but so do you
Irony: realizing that you're both in this fucking library
Irony: returning to the scene of the crime
Irony: getting queasy before i realize you're right next to me
Irony: walking away from you just to run into you
Irony: that happened twice
Irony: i really mean two people
Irony: that happened two days in a row
Irony: half of these happened on the same day
Irony: i might be exaggerating...
Irony: ...but i swear it's all the truth
ynori: sdrawkcab leef em ekam uoy
Irony: that was a pain to type.
Irony: that was also cliche.
Irony: you don't even know what i'm talking about.
Irony: neither do i.
Irony: okay, i really do. but no one else does.
IRONy: Iron II Oxide is an i(r)onic comp
helen keller walked into a barhelen keller walked into a bar5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
blowing my nose in scar tissuei am swimming in your ice-cold hips,blowing my nose in scar tissue5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
swinging from the crevice of your spine
which just so happens to peel like an orange
or lemon or other fucking citrus fruit;
but the aftertaste of your tongue
matches the clichéd arsenic dancing
in your ice-cold tea--lemon flavored, naturally,
your second favorite only to skin-flavored
(but only when that skin isn't mine)
could this get any more ironic?
could i get any more pathetic?
could you get any more erratic?
could we get any more rehearsed?
could this get any fucking worse?
well, we are the world's best actors,
but this script is neither big enough,
nor important enough for the both of us,
and i'm the more charming one
so guess which one gets to stay?
with you around, who needs a cast anyway?
sunrise, sunset, unrise, unsetyou risesunrise, sunset, unrise, unset5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
like a cancerous sun
and orbit away from
me, this, everything
(nothing = synonym)
and you're (g)(one)
for a not-her night
(i need a calendar)
swing two steps to the left,
and disappear to your star-
Less skies; no, wait, you've
got a star. but you're apart
of anot(me)her constellation
(please let me eat the moon)
me, UP, (on your pedestal)
like a chain reaction;
(i sink like a domino)
like a poor trait hanged on the wall
of some memory-haunted mansion.
lock to yours (and throw away the key)
but then you leave now i have one eye
on the past and one eye on the futures
of two lost planetsgalaxiessolarsystems
(but my telescope's still under your bed)
it's not there to look pretty;
it's there to look (at) pretty
things like eyes and mirrors
disproportional, disadvantagedthere's a 100% chance thatdisproportional, disadvantaged5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i love you,
a 100% chance that
you love me,
but a 0.00% chance of
Us ever working out.
insert slew of fbombs here:___if i printed this poem andinsert slew of fbombs here:___5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
slammed it in your face,
you would just complain
that i'm killing the trees
inter-state-course of route 69The traffic jam on the I-15 locked like a Chinese Fingertrap, every vehicle aligned like some fucked-up map of stars over the skyline of a cemetery. Hours before the Sun broke down crying, the Moon undressed its craters and tossed them on the floor of some sleazy galaxy avenue.inter-state-course of route 695 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"But this is as fast as I can go." He spun the wheel the same way he spun his tongue in her mouth: recklessly -- too bad it's not spelt 'wrecklessly'. He sped across the bedspread boulevard with one hand steering the car and one hand steering the course of his life off the road and into a fucking fire hydrant -- or some other explosive metaphor.
Oh, I want to feel a rush. Like we used to. Slam on the gas pedal, and don't stop for anyone.
He ran through the red light the same way he ran his fingers through her hair: absentmindedly -- too bad his subconscious never took roll call. He pressed against the curb the same w
to blow up all the competitionif you live in the past,to blow up all the competition5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in the present.
let the cogs spin backwards;
watch the countdown explode
as hour minutes reach
in the race
when Time always finishes
you'd need hands to strangle you
with every number after Infinity.
but whatever you do,
Don't cross the finish line.
the trophies aren't worth it.
what to bring to the afterlifewhat to bring to the afterlife5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the crushkill conundrum:
i hate seeing you happy
and you love seeing me upset;
so the happier you get,
the more i hate it,
the happier you get,
i hate it
when you smile.
no, i won't talk to you unless you talk to me,
but you won't talk to me unless i talk to you
first. it's because you deplete all my enzymes.
second. because between the two, i came (in)
third. because there's no chance:
no way in hell--no way in heaven--
will we kiss beneath the big dipper.
and there's no way in or out of either
when you're a coldhearted masochist.
the purgatory paradox:
poetry is the biggest sin of all,
so we're both damned to hell,
yet evermore suffering is paradise
to a linguistic masochist like you,
like the 'we' that's damned
to never be.
"we'll be together until hell freezes over"
you told me once. i believe i was asleep.
my blizzard-heart could petrify the flame.
too bad, i gave it to you the day i pulled the trigger.
i can't tell you, or my hearti can't tell you, or my heart5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i can't tell if:
this heart pain is a side effect
of the music or the medicine
i can't tell if:
these tears are real
or just placebos to distract me
from the real problem
i can tell that:
this poetry is a result of you
using the etymology of deja vuDecember 8, 2009using the etymology of deja vu5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you squeezed right through me.
you saw right past me.
i know your number;
i'm still not moving.
(not like you)
you bring up things,
such tender things,
that you know you
ought not mention.
there are three different
you's here (you's me):
you know who you are,
yet you all sting the same,
and sound the same,
and taste the same;
(as if i knew that)
it is a quarter to nine,
and i'm fucking DONE.
your teeth complement my heartmy arrhythmic bodyyour teeth complement my heart5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
dances on your lips;
shake the bedroom.
antique teapots fall
off the windowsill
as i fuck the edge
of your curtains,
refined velvet drapes
that match your ego,
in size and color and
how easily they rip off,
but your skin matches my carpet
a lot better than empty furniture,
don't you think?
i'll throw a fit out the window
because i'm not fit to be yours.
you'll throw my plastic heart
out the car door of my uvula.
i'll burn all your silver
and meld it to a bullet
to load in my lovegun.
i'll blow your brains
like wind or a whore,
the fur from
and just look at that lovely full moon!
it's about as radiant as a thumbtack.
and as soon as you're done sharpening
your battleaxe incisors, i'll be on your
and you'll bite the dots off question marks
and peel the fles