I want more to be said to meTell me about your mother, tell me about the time you lived in that run down apartment and you met a girl named Emily with pretty lips and a salty mouth. Remember fucking her against a dead oak tree in the woods down the street from your mother's work. Tell me about the stale bark and how it spit crimson and wax all down her back...hot and sticky. It made her shake, shift, squirm, and all that did was make your eager body push harder. It made her shirt stick to her hell bitten back and you only noticed when she gasped as you slid your fingers down her spine while walking a half mile back to your mother's work. When she sat down she crossed her scraped and chapped legs (the forest floors aren't forgiving when lovers run.) and you could see the burning in the way she bit her bottom lip til' it bled. Just another crimson stain for your list. she can't breathe though, and your eager body and sprinting feet live in her til' this day. Tell me about moving away a few days later and how
The irony of poetry and sexShift things around in your head and you're single with skin to skin contact attaching heavy breath.The irony of poetry and sex4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You're flexing your body, eyes rolling, jaw lifting there is nothing but increasing pressure on your hips.
The guilt is left inside your chest propelling your heart and jolting adredelaine showing up in your heightened
movements and sinking lungs.
Thoughts are only given the power to let you know it's wrong not the right to connect to your heart
when you have pushed it below the surface. The wrong is what makes it so good too. It's the pressure
on your hips that activates the thrust not the pounding of your pulse or the dividing of your mind
between your id and your superego.
You know nothing but what your body wants you to know and that's what feels good. Shadows are
crawling throughout the room hollowing out cheek bones and hips, you end up thinking it's something
fucking beautiful, when it's just fucking. There is nothing poetic about fucking a body when it's only
a body, there is no
If you need me1.)If you need me3 years ago in Emotional More Like This
I can't always be fine. If you want I can stay by your side,
but I won't always be fine.
It is only a matter of time before you succumb to fire and
release your stiff tired soul into the atmosphere. It's been
a long tired road and the more she leaves the more you forget
about taking care of yourself. The more you remember how terrible
being alone can be. And no amount of creek bed or blue skies, or
green barns can help being alone. The weather feels like your
only company at times and your mind cuts past motivation like
a blinding explosion stripping bodies from their grounded state.
Or cementing to their position. I wish you could care for yourself
because I love you but the demons don't always let love win.
sometimes they build things in us from each other and we can only
promise that we'll hold up so much before we start falling over.
Please be strong.
it's sad because I know you, I know how impossible that is and
how many words are said and how many promises are lost and how
This will destroy you."We are running away from home, and who we are, and your skin is meeting me at the edges where we tear our seams apart like ribbons waiting to be pasted onto some portrait, but what we're doing isn't going to make something beautiful. It's just tearing us apart, and I wanted to tell you that I'm not doing it anymore, but your lips slid into that scar I told you about, and I felt the edges creak and everything inside of me ached to be torn. But you-you, we- can't we just be okay?"This will destroy you.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
"I know what it's like to want to stop, and grace yourself with blush and hope you look okay, and miss your skin, and press it to someone. But our skin isn't meant to blush or breathe, it is meant to break and blemish. We are swimming in ourselves, and our skin is holding all that in, but we need to flood each other and so we tear, and tear, because the ribbons let you out. They let you out. Would you rather bloat?"
"My visions of your face are blurred and I miss the skin on your hips because it hurts too fuck
Wicked gamesWicked games3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Sometimes doing the worst possible thing is the only way to
get outside yourself anymore. To flip the switch, light the
flame, and start the fire. Trying to feel safe...
like the dark is going to hide the heat.
You want to guide your hands down a spine?
Be prepared to feel shaking, and to watch that
shaking destroy a connected structure. Remember
that chasing a mind that alters your own is bold
and not always appreciated. Just close enough and
it all falls apart, too far and you fall behind.
People shift but don't change.
Let it run, it's all that matters.
Shame glazing a body hot and heavy
and impossible to scrub off.
Distance collects like When I wrote "I love you" on your palm I never thought it'd mean more than I love your ribs, and your spine, and when your stomach slides over mine and blushes with heat against me.Distance collects like5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I didn't think I'd be leaning against the sink throwing up and thinking "I'd love for you to see me this ugly, love for your lips to brush against the goose bumps on my bare shoulder blades and feel the heaves shake my whole body and the only words that would leave those lips would be 'it's okay, i love you.' "
I wander in my house drunk, fall down the hall dragging my fingers against the wall asking myself where my bed is so I can tell you I'm sorry until I feel my chest drop and I sink to the floor swallowing myself in one thought and whispering: "No more, no more. I know."
I miss you in more ways then one, and it isn't all your lips or hips or ivory skin but it is your voice and heart and soul. You do not miss a soul if
All we know is each otherGetting off in a limo, my spine sliding down the leatherAll we know is each other4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
slick and sticky with your face in my lap burying yourself
so deep into me. Jaw clenched and fingers traveling through
your hair often pulling or retracting.
My bodies motion only lives in your excelling desires
where everything else quiets and the noises slip like thoughts.
The windows down, the breeze swelling my already grown
goosebumps as we blend like watercolors bleeding into each other
and becoming things we didn't know existed. I like that life boils
into this sometimes, I like that your body can be cupped round mine
and the world can be flying by with all it's madness and beauty and
still at that moment
all we know is each other.
Miss nowhereI miss your silent hands overlapping my thighs and your fingertips drawing lace over my eyelids. The dipping dance of our lips repeating each other and questioning our own thoughts. The cream colored hue of your dress covering two quaking lungs that shook when I bent down to your neck and whispered "Your blood shines through you. I know what you aren't."Miss nowhere4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The sunshine would commit our limbs to pulling the sheets over our faces then we'd rest on each others bodies acting as if that was our world for a while. You being a world for a while consisted of slight murmuring, the rise and fall of a deteriorating chest, and the heat of your heart rising up to meet my cheek. I liked that. Those times lie out easily in my mind, fall softly, but forgotten most.
Other days gloom would entrap your chest. You'd sit by the window for hours
chasing the birds with your eyes, you'd sigh when they flew out of sight.
You'd say "I wonder where they move around to all day, where they
stay at night, and if some
"Please say you don't mind"Please say you don't mind5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I never let her eat,
and when I do she just throws it up
and says she prefers to feel empty
because the bones press better
against her skin,
and it's easier to grind away
her conscious like this.
"You know we're just cutting,
and pulling, and tugging,
but I want to love someone,
and they just want to cut
and trade but the parts don't
fit, the parts don't fit."
And she runs her fingers over her stomach
and her chest, and her ribs,
and tells me she's not sure what's beneath
because she can't remember
what he gives her anymore.
She just takes it,swallows it
breathes and leaves.
Because he helps her breathe,
even though her stomach's hollow and her
eyes are all dazed and her lips are always
echoing phrases that don't make any sense..
She holds out her hands and asks me to sing
with her because the sky is shouting and
she needs to call herself out because she's
leaving her mind, and she needs to think
because she can't think and there's a boy
who needs her to think because he'