WomanhoodI was seventeen when I first understood what it was to be a woman. It wasn't the moment years before when I began my period. It hadn't been the instant in which a boy first touched his lips to mine when I was twelve. It wasn't when I put on my first prom dress, or the first time I wore heels. I knew that women had breasts, and men did not; men were taller, and stronger than women; women were fairer and meeker than men. That was the way things were, and always had been. I was born and raised to accept those facts, and that is exactly what I had done.Womanhood8 years ago in Open More Like This
I watched the deep, crimson blood drop and fan out in the water beneath me. It was like dropping food dye into oil, or dropping paint onto wet paper. It spread through the basin, dancing slowly over the white porcelain boundaries. My hips and legs and stomach ached for the fourth day in a row despite following the directions of countless concerned friends. "Drink water", "avoid salt", "exercise", they said. I had shaken three cylindrical br
i lie to ghosts.it's late.i lie to ghosts.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i don't understand things after midnight
like why i wear purple nail polish
instead of the popular funeral black
or why i live in a house with crooked floors
and a rotting deck
i don't understand why i listen to music
that doesn't mean anything,
music i don't even like. but i do.
or why i like to pretend i have pretty words
when i don't. they're all uglyuglyugly.
ugly masked in floral metaphors.
i don't understand why i type in lowercase
and write in uppercase. always.
or why i need sleep
when dreams don't exist.
i don't understand why i'm terrified,
my skin peeling away from my bones
in a distressed urgency
or why that makes me shiver.
the only thing i understand
is the feeling of drowning with the lights off,
in a world of varying shades of gray
and i know,
that i am just static between four walls
that don't stand a chance against this hurricane.
Early AubadeIf melodious birds were encumbered by words,Early Aubade4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Would their speech be as music through hollow reeds
and quick like dewdrops spilling down leaves?
Or would it be violent and shudder with death?
In the morning chorus are a thousand threats,
angry advances and adverts for sex
In the dark after Eden; who spends their breath
echoes.it's been a monthechoes.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
but my skin says
a month too long
your skin says
the flocks of
taking flight in my body
the seashells lining
so i will always sound
like the ocean
the glass bottles
the greenest of my eyes
i'm just fog off the water
i'll be gone by tomorrow
but i'll be back
reek of sweetI'm tired ofreek of sweet4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
this constantistent plum
I'm sick of your smiles and secrets, your sthighs and shrhugs, your scooching away silently
I didn't don't need you and your running around my head
I don't want your pity (i don't get enough)
I hun--ger instead for that last
cold embrace (i don't get enough)
cooling my molecules so I can lose my hea(r)t
You Always Believe MeNo matter how long the daysYou Always Believe Me4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
or dark the nights
I will see you again.
Peering through the glass in spider webs held
between two trees of gleaming emerald
I will see you waiting
as beautiful as ever
beckoning me farther into the dream world
you created for me.
I will see you in your place amongst the stars
singing as teardrops fall from your mouth to the ground
your eyes searching for only me
(it's always been me)
and I will hold you
and tell you everything's going to be all right;
I will sew the rips in your wings
and mend your heart ventricles so they
all the while telling you that this time
I won't be gone nearly as long
because I know it kills you when I'm away.
You will believe me.
You always believe me.
But I--I'm finding it harder to live between two realities
and you, while so beautiful,
are slowly fading to ash
made of blood, bone, and imagination.
ViewHey.View4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Whatcha doin' here?
Just enjoying the view.
Ever wonder what would happen if you just slipped off one day?
Um, no? You do?
All the time.
Wow, you're kinda crazy.
Still here, huh?
Looks like it.
Hey, can I ask you something?
Why do you come all the way out here? Really.
You can see the whole city from here.
Yeah you can, but I call bullshit.
Would it sound crazy if I said because light pollution is as cold as me?
Just a little bit.
Your sarcasm is appreciated.
If you slipped off, I'd pull you back up.
You're entirely devoid of arm strength.
Then I'll hold you close and wrap you up instead. I'll unfold you, help you find yourself, and keep you from feeling small. I'll breathe you. I'll keep you warm.
Thanks for ruining the introspectiveness.
a brief history of us.the atlantic gave birth to you like a tsunami. late nights spent buying tiramisu for pretty girls with green eyes. playing with her fork like she was sewing the seams of clouds together.a brief history of us.4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
we spent too long floating on hardwood floors with blankets wrapped tightly like a second skin, trying to protect things that might someday be broken. using fear as the only insurance against heartache and loneliness. pretending like we weren't already familiar to those things like we were to crumbs on kitchen counters, so we swept loneliness beneath the rugs and told it to stay. we were using words like forever without being able to count the distance between each letter.
the atlantic was gathering waves like pennies dropped on sunday streets, picking up the pieces of what you would be before even the notion of you was formed. you came from this: heavy breathing and maps of california, red nails and a place to stay that was never in reach. you came from too many empty bottles of vodka that were downed
01. letterdear stranger,01. letter5 years ago in Letters More Like This
i'm fifteen years old and i still have no idea how to be a girl.
why do the singers always write about the same things? is falling in love really that special?
these days, most girls who are my age have boyfriends--or at least a boy interest. most of them would swear the boy they're with is their soulmate. but me, i'd swear most boys these days think with their dicks and not their heads.
i find kissing gross. does that make me unkissable? (i sure hope not.)
my teenage years are going down the toilet. i need to do something crazy.
what is it that kids my age are supposed to do? sneak into concerts? get kicked out of the mall? get high? oh, dear god, am i supposed to fall in love?
is it normal to be nostalgic for things that never happened?
is it normal t
you entranced me near the exithow fascinating,you entranced me near the exit4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you look tonight
dressed in a spellbinding fashion
like some European opera singer
or Parisian supermodel -- trendy
with a waist smaller than E. Coli,
you sure seem more dangerous.
double, double, toil and trouble
so haute couture
so hoe, cut your
because you put
the EW in BITCH.
you are charmful to my health.
i am enamoured with glamour.
you've cursed me with rhymes
like "hex" and "sex" and "ex";
you've cursed me with poetry;
you've cursed me with shame;
you've cursed me with curses;
you've cursed and cussed me,
with words like fucked. ALSO:
you fucked me, too. and took
me by my heart and shook me
in the dark and kissed my hips
by the lips with wrists pressed
against me (by nature, you're
you've cursed me with nature, too
and, as if by black-and-white magic,
our bodies levitate across night sky,
wearing nothing but o
I Wish I Lived In Newfoundlandit doesn't matter whatI Wish I Lived In Newfoundland4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
anybody else call you,
when i call you names
like "lover" and "mine"
and "hot sexy beast".
it doesn't matter that
we don't even live in
the same country, or
that we've never met
and that we probably won't for
eight hundred and eight years;
that's eight hundred and eight
years too many to live without
your shining face brightening
my otherwise unbearable life.
it doesn't matter that
this is cheesy as fuck
and been said before
but as long as you're
smiling, then i'm good.
it doesn't matter that i can't see it
because i believe it. in this. in us.
it doesn't matter that
nobody knows about
us. well, maybe two
people do. but two
isn't comparable to
how much we want
to be with each other,
in each other's beds,
in each other's city.
none of that matters because
at least we're in each other's
summer passed.we grew up watching the sunsetsummer passed.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
crawl over our backs like spiders
invade damp bedclothes in dusty
we began speaking, singing the
songs of wallflowers in morning
rain while the blue ink swelled
from our wrists. the effects of
homemade tattoos made from
cheap pens and sticky fingers.
we smelled of history textbooks,
science experiments and barely
sharpened pencils. we were the
echoes of school bells, wedding
bells and sleigh bells. we were
we spent hours lying on rooftops,
smoking cigarettes and calling to
the ocean through seashells. we
spent too much money on records
we couldn't play and far too much
time picking which one we'd listen
to first if we could.
we pretended that rocks were the
frozen hearts of ghosts and should
be swept out to sea so we skipped
them once, twice, three times but
the waves always swallowed them
we were ripped jeans, broken tea
cups, fluttering curtains, hushed
midnight getaways, sandy kisses
and faithful stereos.
but we are still only pas
GoldenSodden fur, half buried by leaves,Golden4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
a grey squirrel floats through grey trees.
On a bitter night, Autumn glisters,
under the crumpling tread of cars.
Now as the wind upon your fingers,
Now as the darkness between the stars.
i am what i ami'm nothing more than a little dirt road discovered by a boy with calloused fingers and a toothy grin. i'm not much more than truck tracks and muddy ruts on a couple of rickety old bones.i am what i am4 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
the stamp on my back claims i'm from porch swings and empty whiskey bottles. i'm that burning in your throat after you take a shot, i'm that ringing in your ears after you shoot shotgun shells through old car windows.
i was moulded by sunset smiles and starlit nights, talks by the fire, crushed beer cans, laughter suspended on tree branches.
i am short shorts and tank tops, flip flop tans, and skinny dipping at midnight.
i'm from dirty lakes and drunken nights. i'm from fields as wide as the sky, that stretch farther than the eye can see. i am from tender kisses stolen between classes and hands held underneath tables.
i'm made of patriotism and unwavering spirit.
i am what i am.
StoryLast summer, you came in with nothing but a bike and scotch, and taped my life to yours. Your adhesive caught on quick; I was stuck on your words that pushed our chat lines to well past onethousand.Story4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
(I was sorry because I meant more to you than you did to me.)
Autumn was a bitch; we'll call it fall. Yours was a routine I could live with, highway-fast in fact. I fell over myself to lick your fingers; they were addictive. You obliged; I never knew spotlights could be so blue.
You sent me snow in the winter. I never found you your Christmas song. Winter was cold; the sky was clear but I couldn't find my sunshine. I wondered if you had found a place in the frostblanket. You whispered through the walls.
Spring came, but the ice didn't thaw. No flowers came (for me) in May, even with all the downpours in April. You had some and some, but you shared all the wrong things. The routine was a routine again and I slipped from your hands. I found my pocketknife buried under schoolpapers and
My sunless morningYour strawberry-flavored lipsMy sunless morning5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Are overripe and decomposing
In such a hurried pace
I can already hear the buzzing
Of the fruit flies gathering about us.
You carry a bottle of your favorite
Perfume in your vanity bag
It helps masquerade
The scent of your disease,
Making it so much easier for me
To swallow and digest all of your lies.
Ive seen my future in your eyes
And it was black as a sunless morning.
In that future I commit suicide
And you move along to infect the next
Man in line after consuming
The spoiled remains of my broken heart.
peter pan.i grew up in a house withpeter pan.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
floors that slant, a porch
that rots and an attic full
of glass. i watched as my
father insulated the walls,
my arms getting wrapped
up in itchy pink material
that left tiny cuts across
i grew up in a family that
either cared too much or
didn't care enough. my
father never talked and
my mother only accused
but never apologized. i
watched their affection
fade and a fog of too-
high expectations rise
and consume me.
i grew up scared and a
coward. my nails would
dig trenches in my arms
and my stomach had a
habit of rejecting what
it was given. i got used
to hiding my pale limbs
in sweaters and blankets,
soon learning they would
never keep out the cold
like i desperately needed.
i grew up taking baths in
lukewarm water and want-
ing nothing more than to
climb behind the crooked
walls in my crooked house
and hide, just for a little
sa-reng-neeGargle, rinse. Gargle, rinse. Gargle.sa-reng-nee4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Spit. Count your bloodstained teeth.
Count the ones missing. Count me,
I'm 18 going on 18. Count me, but
use symbolism instead of numbers.
Count me out of surgical insomnia.
Count to ten, backwards. Wake
up confused. Sick. Uneasy. Still
shaken from the painkillers. Put
them in the medicine cabinet by
the sink. Since you're by the sink,
chug the glass of saltwater. And
swallow toothpaste. Don't forget
to call poison control. Don't forget
to call the dentist's secretary. O-Don't-ology, I
believe is the name, but I may have forgotten.
In case of bad hygiene, stitch the
bitemarks on my chipmunk cheeks,
chapped lips disease: not the only
ones cracked. Remember to floss.
so if i'm a cavity,
you're the filling
Gargle. Rinse. Gargle, rinse; don't choke. Or
don't try. Or don't mistake mou
gnashing jukeboxes in my teethmy boombox mouth ch-ch-chattersgnashing jukeboxes in my teeth4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
at the taste of your tapdancing lips
you choreographed every kiss,
every promise, every iloveyou;
every word, a radio frequency
playing me, playing the song i
requested. but this is not the
studio version. this is a cheap
limewire ripoff of a low-quality
demo, this is used dental floss
and novacaine mp3 files.
sorry, but my teeth want the real thing.
the importance of the s in sexi do not like the ironythe importance of the s in sex4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
of trying to get over someone
by getting on top of them.
if IRONY friend requested me on facebook,
i would deny, block, and mark as spam.
as i might have said a billion poems ago,
i have a restraining order against IRONY
however that dumb bitch still manages
to scare the living shit out of me
a boy i used to knowlanky with long dark hair; i thought he was the most beautiful thing in the world and even though he denied it, i knew he was just being modest. sometimes i would let him stick his hands up my shirt and touch my ribs. he'd slide his long fingers up and down each one, reminding me of how thin i am. i often forget.a boy i used to know4 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
i liked it when he touched me, but that was short lived and it was already too late to tell him to stop. it was like he didn't understand the meaning of the word "no" but i could forgive it because the mistakes he made were so honest.
"what would you do if i died?" he asked.
"i would be sad," was all i said and he looked disappointed.
today his hair is short and his eyes show a change. today i realized that he is the type of boy that all the teenage girls write about and it makes me feel pathetic in more ways than one.
he's been my inspiration for too long and it's time for me to move on because he's gone.
he's been gone for a long time.