trespassing slipthe soul is numbered into a cohesive pattern. graphed for the mathematical masterminds and swallowed by the sea. it is drawn on earth-colored paper and taped to backs; for no one has the right to see their soul or steal it, just to roll it in mud or take it off when they feel overdressed. she's always overdressed for you but strays, too afraid to slip her hands down, over, off. she replies with tiny licking phrases and sheathes her eyes behind a clear mask. so useless. so so ashamed. to blame. we blame you.
talk is nothing but meal to fill the empty stomachs of air. we make it fat with nonsense and diseased desires. the others are just fifteen and free to dream, so free. free attaches to falling in a revolution of seconds and we are the most captive prisoners of all.
you have sweet dreams of tongues slipping down your throat, of medicine. i live to trail your insides but die to move beyond skin. barriers break our chemicals down to singular strands of written codes read only by nature.
never told youi always drink too much ofnever told you3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
this fashionable spring air
but enough isn't me.
gold, god, we climb over
every hill and fall in love
with breaded earth again and again.
i dream of you in payphone
booths when i think of home,
smiling my signal through the chords
hoping it will replace
a lover's flesh.
but sweating all these colors fresh,
oh, it's something to see,
something to me
because we run in empty fields
while you sit cramped inside,
barely pumping the blood around your toes.
come on, darling, you know.
when we drive i sing into memory;
do you remember when i fell
out of your tree? you ran and picked me
up and even though i was seeing stars i
tried on love like a slip
it fit me to fit you.
lover, though the water's where
i'm most alive i miss that
one word, home, for you.
am i just too much?
fever dreams won't be
enough to touch.
miss the waterfalls
all those clouds
during hot weather
i curtsy to the bandits
and play my piano sweet
eating up the world to feel
it in my s
i think we've got it bad.the long dirty road has wheels printed into it and buildings jutting from its sides, cars stopping completely, submissive to all the too-bright light. it's freezing but i feel okay, i feel whole. i feel like i could step outside of myself and the numbness of it all wouldn't let anything touch me. the essence of me. the idea of me.i think we've got it bad.4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
you wait for me under the street signs with your heeled shoes and too much black smeared around your eyes. it makes you look sad but maybe you want to look sad i don't really know. your hugs feel like a mother's. we're going to a party, some great musician's with golden toilets in his loft that likes prostituted girls like you and maybe a guy like me at his house because we're warm and smudged, the unreadable, undetectable ink. you don't even talk to me, you just hold my arm like a child with your skinny legs steering me the rightest way
we get there, we finally get there, and i decide i want to be mindless, breathless drunk all for the fun of it while you go
backward respirationfinding a place to rest in a mess of the boomingbackward respiration3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
overflowing cataclysm of cells breathing together breaks no surface. we want to be married and to have small children before the universe inverts itself backwards and wears us like a diamond.
i fall between cracks in crystal sand that nestle in the air and hide in my shoes, so no one tastes it coating their gums. gums taste like trees and so many leaves eating out every thought. all. i like beauty but dancing makes my vessels split into two, the glass capillaries oozing from under my muscles and into the earth. fame is all i need to love myself.
people look in mirrors and see what they never desired, but give it, live it, for how they were told. raise your young as yourself so you'll still be here when the rocks collapse underneath us. finding rest places, probably, never premiering our human bones on the theatre screen. we're all small but tall with all we call to hold in fingers, from clouds to just vapor. i want to read meaning on a s
weightlessshe had words dripping like sweat from her skin and flowy cloth glancing across her shoulder. when it was always summer, she ran along the beach and collapsed into herself, her long gold hair more gold when water hit. her mouth held oceans inside of it, green and blue and off-color lace sewed by the sea.weightless3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
eyes stitched to every horizon she ever saw, she wondered where her breath would take her after she swallowed the midnight chill. she was perfect and flawed all at once, wrapping her, breathing wind into the feathers in her hair. she'd be in movies and she'd sing with her unreal voice that would sound like the song of the sea and have the beat of native drums. she'd dance prettier than a hummingbird. she sees in full color and when she is sad it's almost happy because she is such a painting, such a perfect girl.
she was my dream.
but dreams just push us father, deeper into fake minds and plastic towns, unbelievable children and birds that always fly in vision. i run from her because sh
implosionsthe whale ate my hungerimplosions4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and now i'm a ghost,
pills setting off bombs
in the mine of my body
turning my blood toxic
and bursting the shafts
into a precarious spin.
i'll live in the spaces between
the walls without you
and pretend the stairs don't exist.
you're a tunnel behind my eyes
and it is starting to block my vision
between breaths and false eyelashes
sweat is not sweet and i'd like
you to stop
couldn't you tell me which road?
the signs are read backwards and i might be going blind today.
crowned with my own broken chair
i take the graveled road spelling east.
i might be beautiful today.
the pills you've eaten
don't really love you
and they do abhor tracing the
train tracks on the inside
of your hollow throat
can't you see?
the whale left me in the
stomach of the ocean
and i can't swim with
pills lathering me
sidestitchesi am a spinster, a classic fablesidestitches4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
spinning away with my needles
folded neatly in my hands.
i sew hearts just to rip them apart
at the seams all undone.
too much poison.
the soldiers fed me too much dirt
and lies so i've been hiding them
between my crooked teeth
with the lords and ladies of
endless pasts collapsible into a
paragraph, a word, a letter.
i need a different kind of letter.
indian summer has its way with you
when you use it for your work.
it swallows you and will drag
you back into freeze if you look
away long enough.
i am a spinster,
not even a widow, no young to
carry in my mouth to spit out over a cookfire.
she never felt herself or human without
a boy attached to her arm, fumbling with her limbs
and putting her back together only to pull her
apart again at the joints.
reminiscent of my stitched hearts,
except they like to chew off the flesh
and me i like to pretend.
we pour poison into our glasses because
there's nothing else to do
and bodies are disposable
am i caught to every floor?suddenly there is a fake yellow light slashing its way through the backs of my eyes. my face had been turned all sideways to stare at the lonely blue-patterned wallpaper and everything feels icy and laced with chemicals that don't pierce through all the dirt, so it lies there, coating my arms and reflecting my eyes. stitching my gaze all around the room, i rest my careful eyes on the leaves of my life blowing in the wind, hidden there in the corners of everything. the leaves are dying, you know. dying, all blown around the edges and the green creeping out of their insides. my arms look sick yellow and i keep thinking that everything feels like it's dying over and over again. i never thought so much death could begin and end in one small room with only one window to breathe through, with all these cold-blooded tiles.am i caught to every floor?4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
my house and my stomach are hollow and empty, every essence that lingers inside them thrown right down the drain and left somewhere in the metal bowels to stagnate and drop
a laugh will cost you--have you seen the girl with the sad, cold eyesa laugh will cost you--4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and down-turned mouth? she's always in a frown, a coma of malleable lips pushed like clay. perhaps they were formed by the phantoms behind her teeth, or the myths drowning in her wet mouth. they say she has evil eyes. stained ones.
i talked to her one dark morning when she sat writing letters into a wood desk. i said, "hi." and she looked at me and turned away. so did i. the next day she walked up to me out of nowhere and she said, "you're weak." and then she smiled real crooked, a poison kind of smile. she told me stories about broken love and the snakes under her skin instead of blood. she's their cocoon and they're too afraid to shed her off. a writhing, rocky heart ate away at her insides, giving the snakes something to eat, she told me. that was why she was too skinny and pale-blooded. cold-blooded. zero-blooded.
she made the most gruesome jokes, too. i couldn't tell you 'cause i forgot them all but she did. and i always wa
where forever is caughtround revolutions around your eyelids let the light fall in little beams to the pupil, dancing in circles. you are curved as a lens and you refract my words in and out of your ears.where forever is caught4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i'm lost. even light can't escape from you; they reflect back and forth, in frantic circles. you're edgeless but sharp, slicing me like a blade with no handle.
there are slow, sweet marks swirling on your arms, moving carefully with the thrum of the earth's core-- the cuts from the sharp blade you're made of, crawling in your veins.
so we keep treading this path. i think it will never end and we'll end up repeating all our mistakes and it will never change. but you think one day circles will break into squares and we can walk straight off the fence and into paradise. one of us is lying.
lies falling from your mouth and collecting in red pools, to be stored in glass jars locked deep in the whirling paths of the mind; i feel them when you're not looking. when we're exploring our own labyrinths a
'til deathit occurs to me that maybe i will grow up and get divorced. i will love you as long as i can and eventually, we will wake up and not love each other anymore. i guess it won't happen overnight but it sure as hell will be intolerable one day.'til death4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
our kids will be grown. they will be surprised because they often saw us drunk together at family functions and honestly staring into each other's eyes. and they sometimes heard us having sex. and they found the love letters i wrote to you in high school. i will be brushing my teeth and you will be smoking a cigarette and then we will be looking at each other in the mirror. i rinse my mouth out and look up at you.
'how long has is been since we had sex?'
'how long has it been since you had sex?'
'how long has it been since we made love?'
'jesus, at least five years.'
i will smile at you and fix your hair, take a long drag on your cigarette and say, 'i can't believe i married you. you are one boring son of bitch. i'll
capillariestwisted fingerscapillaries4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
small and alive
brushing your blushed neck
pulling your heart from your mouth
pretty things make graveshiding leaves beneath my tonguepretty things make graves3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i circle prey like a whirlpool
and keep lyrics under the stairs
i hear your playful wallows bringing sores
to the roof of your mouth from here
numbers and letters in an epitaph,
mangling sweet stairs.
i wish you wouldn't waltz down here
but you always do, seeing him out
the door and decorating the room
with your smile.
then i imagine all of you blood red
and laugh myself to sleep,
singing like a bird exposed to winter
dreaming of stealing you with
the mouth of the fox,
your staircase body climbing
into my stomach.
your wallows would bubble up
and transform my laughter beautiful
i'd escape to the place beneath the stairs.
in love with all the graves i've set,
i'll never let you free.
breaded bodyyou focus so madly on the wallsbreaded body3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
created from the bones of dead labor,
payed in gold and forgotten in graves.
the old house speaks for you,
without it you'd break--
creaking, whirled flooring
scratches under your lungs
you'd like to be dead inside
the stomach of the walls sometimes
when the trees dream of hanging your
heart on their branches
strung over the vacant, pale gaps between their
the fireplace is always empty
but for your mother's fresh ashes
and with a breeze, do you think
they'd all just blow away?
no graves to dig, visit,
breathe into hoping to bring-back.
there is no flesh.
only a detached thought
mingled in the static of
the air you used to breathe.
past the circles you burned into the floor
past the window glass, made fake with images and crystals
past the bold carved doorway.
and right when you see
her hanging in the trees,
you pitch forward,
it's a shame your bones
are so broken;
sinking vesselsi took my heart to the lake while it was hanging off of my wrist for you to smile at. it was dawn and the humidity still caught on our tongues and hair like the sun had already bounded up and hung itself on the sky's noose, breaking its neck just to give us warmth. the lights were just peaking over the dark green hills stretching as far as our eyes could see. the water rippled carefully, as if it was trying not to break like the feeling in my skin as it tingled; somehow cold despite the warm summer breath pushing me forward.sinking vessels4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i rode on a moss-covered wooden boat that felt perfect to rest in; like floating through a dream. lifting each oar made the loudest sounds and i thought i'd wake the world, all for a helpless passion; all for an ill-kept secret. all the little words i'd say prickled up and down my spine restlessly-- my poor poet mind wouldn't sleep until after you. i was love-sick and horribly infirmed with the heat of you; with the idea of you. i make myself
sick kissthere is love inside the floorboardssick kiss4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
turned upside-down and backwards
writhing like mad dogs
kenneled in metal crates.
the love has since dissolved into bones
for the parasites to eat.
can you stomach my tapeworms,
my fluttering heart pumping faster?
neither can i.
i've hacked it up
all over the used wood and
oh i'm sorry
love's all soiled and spoiled now,
flush with the ground
heavy smiles + unreal beforesnocturnal eyes fished in your winter-heavyheavy smiles + unreal befores4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
bag full of bones-- pasts
and pasts, weighing you down
with their way of never letting you forget.
your hissing steam trailing from the mouth
collected in circles around the tree-limbs;
suspending them in mid-air
no support, no wires,
always, only you,
poor withered soul
collecting the shallow, light hearts from trees
and setting them in a stack in your weathered bag .
your teeth fell out of your mouth one by one
every month for two whole years and with the loss of each tooth you lost
a person; the fell out of your life. a familiar ache itched at your gums and the strings
holding your skin together.
i stood a ways away watching you from the dirt and you have never seen me, but it feels like, from the prickling of your arms, you know i'm here.
you are controller and i am machine; i mold myself to your ideal person and you still look straight through me. the flowers touched lightly to my gold hair but you move right on and on, to some
numbertoday is hollow metalnumber4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
folding onto me
and that boy said "um" at the front
of the classroom one-hundred-and-twenty-four times
should've spit out what he wanted to say
it's hard when you're cold and broke
he's not real i promise
fake fairytale breath
but, magdelena, darling
i eat beauty like death
and you are not okayyou are a distant dreamand you are not okay4 years ago in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
just behind the sky's eyelids
where you toss and turn
walking with graves
clouded by empty sounds and high, breezy voices
that never seem to stop their whispering.
have you ever wanted something so distant
searching for it everywhere you go
needing the warmth through frozen, hollow bones
have you ever thought your life is so excellent
compared to the stained others
and you should not be worried or sad or anything
because you are a dream
and you almost wish
some tornado would fly through your hair
so you would have something to say
something for people to care about
your mouth has nothing to say but cobwebs that come tumbling out
on top of the autumn rooftops
and you want the slate to fall through
because it hurts so much when the snow coats your skin
what i want is a lot more than you will ever see
no one ever wanted me when i was young and blue-skinned
so i danced with snowflakes
but always alone.
&i ask again,
are you written on the walls?
am i re
just one more saturdayreal skin on you in a dim lit room, tan carpets and yellow vibrations, smoke tingling around your cherry hair. the white mattress reflects you in its own cotton flesh, your smile showing itself, yellowing beautiful moon, smoke erasing air and kissing your exposed arms. your parents left town last week and all you've got left is a quaint house on meadow lane and a cabinet of liquor laughing from the gray basement.just one more saturday4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
this room we're in, this room cradling us; someday it won't exist. the sturdy foundations will pull themselves themselves down, a sweet little way of nature. we won't exist either.
moths dangling in light are caught in the shallow wooden curtains that are our walls, and nothing feels real. the pints of ale pulse quite heavily in the blood stream; maybe-memories of you & i in a purple haze want to talk to me. you yawn and your mouth is smeared with redred lipstick. the bathroom sleeps next door, but you don't make it, retching in the floor. carpet keeps more memories in its fib
wish i was worth itplease don't need me.wish i was worth it3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
my skin prickles and i shiver
under crowded carpets
i am so
falling over gin mouths
and crystallized fingers
under my eyelids.
you like me to be there
to hurt for you
'cause i'm worth no more than that
and i guess i should say i'm
sorry for letting
you crawl this far under
each little nerve on my
spine but it won't help
i know i'm sorry
am i weak or do you,
do you love me?
can iwill you let me
be more than a tool, an absorber of the
fears falling from your tongue?
i wish i could be more
than one little girl
in a collage of countless others.
i wish you wouldn't
oh i wish you wouldn't
but you persist and now
there are bruises on my
chest, i've taken all the
blows, i can't feel.
i don't love it
i don't love you
please don't need me
(do you love you?)
For Fear You Would Die Fasteryour attenuate bonesFor Fear You Would Die Faster3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
against each other
against my anklespooled
in the foot of this sleeping bag
they summon up
eighty-eight goose-bumps taught to sing
evanescence in the summer(.)
for your viewing pleasurereasoning with irresponsible tendons
writhing cos we were we are one
typewriter with two dry
"never more than one hundred hand breadths apart and never more"
buried in airterror held shackles over our blue skinsburied in air4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
dancing behind the cold moon
breaking our lungs in two.
the winged men hid in holes
tight air beneath hard-packed ground
where they breathe.
right under our feet,
we hear them.
freezer bones and casket grief
lingering around our faces.
desperate for the warmth of
fire sighing in our veins,
we are pretend guns
shooting pure finger-flooded
bullets into windows.
think i shot the man behind
the porch lattice dead
without meaning it,
without wanting it,
maybe dead from the wind in the tree limbs
and not my cold metal hand
not metal at all but
warm and blooded, leeching.
august, i felt your necromantic love like
that ocean chill
salt spicing air
it turns stale and drafty
in old photographs of us
smiling, holding hands.
the old war movies
still spin in my head
to remind me of when i didn't
have you and the sour, bloody
taste of metal comes tumbling
The ListenerI straddle the peak of this roof.The Listener3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Nightbright snow burns my unshoed feet
& they burn it back.
I shiver at the effort of this white-on-white battle to-the-death.
I quiver until the shingles scrape at my toes.
Stiffly these legs obey my orders & climb the bloody chimney.
The wind silences my pleas for mercy, yet I
unfold myself into a bird & then into a diver.
Cupping my hands I feverishly scratch at
peeling-paint clouds; these crumble and flake to the ground.
One heavensent gust collects under the swan feathers tied in my hair
& I ascend owl-eyed to the top of this night.
Crashing in through the scab I picked open, I land with a woosh.
I peel ice from my eyes and grab at stars with greedy hands
almost forgetting why I came.
They sting like blue-hot coals.
I hurl them back.
Frowning indignantly at singed palms,
I blink several times.
My eyes water & the tears freeze in their ducts.
My breath becomes irregular and shallow.
I find a divan and drape myself acrost it on my back.
all this timei guess i thought i was worth somethingall this time3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
for a while. really.
guess i just found out that's not true.
it's your fault, you pulled
lies through my eyes and now
you don't remember me.
i'll never be great enough to
write poems like some fucking
prodigy, about ducks and flowers
poetry is hilarious i eat it
in the morning for a snack while
i laugh about thoughtless child-like words
and nothing. i hate the way you smile.
i hate the way the world won't stop spinning,
won't fucking stop spinning, spins me down
the hallways i imagine in
the corners of my mind because i know
they don't belong to me.
i try to be brilliant but it gets
stuck in a skipping tape
jammed deep into my stomach
like a sunken wreck in the sea.
the words refuse to escape my hand
and instead form themselves about my head
in salt water, mocking me
when i pretend to be a poet.
i've lost my old touch
that never began.
you don't care.
i'm not anything,
success is measured in teaspoons