Entwined beneath sheets of
I kissed the air
and cursed the day
we were sober.
And, emptying the bottle,
we said those things
about our dreams
that mattered none at all
none at all
in the morning.
to breathlessly sing
(with the crickets)
my fingers crept into the void
where you'd slept.
And I wept.
because.i will never love you because you don't smell anything like the Ukraine and because i love a boy who watched the sunset over Kuwait and i love a boy who held his mother's dying hands, asked me to hold them too. i love a boy and he is not you;because.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
one with i-don't-know-what color hair but definitely-blue eyes, unless you count Texas, who i will always love but will never hold to my tongue or breast or spine again, and of course his eyes were darker than alone and maybe that's where i am because it's hard not to be alone when you love so many people.
and that's another thing because it's not just them. i love Alaska, i love her green eyes and the way she talks to me in dreams and i love Reese, how she bumbles and while i'm making a list, i love my mother. i love the way she held my fevered head and the way she danced at my sister's wedding (i love my sister too) and of course my baby brother with his busted lip and how he's taller than me now, like they alway
We've All Came Down Beforeyou can't just smile and wave me awayWe've All Came Down Before9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
like you never broke me
guess that's the price we pay
when we care.
struggling to hold my balance
hold myself together
pull my memories apart
whispering my insignificance
k i s s m e
because I'm in pain
til my lips break unable to speak
our blood runs down the drains
forgetting we hate each other
when loving is lying
and we've all came down,
Let Us PrayA priest intones the massLet Us Pray6 years ago in Open More Like This
to silent stones
and wandering angels.
Head bowed in silence.
Fingers worry at
A rosary for the lost.
An audience of Saints
Hear my prayer.
EvenIfYouSaid you were dying...no one would hear you.EvenIfYouSaid you were dying7 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
ABC'sA is for AnorexiaABC's8 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The love of my life
B is for Bulimia
Hurts more than a knife
C is for Cutting
To punish my soul
D is for Depression
Who is digging my hole
E if for ED-NOS
Diseased and Alone
F is for Friends
Understanding your groan
G is for Ghosts
Haunting you always
H is for Happiness
Havent experience for days
I is for Isolated
No matter whos there
J is for Jelly
Under skin, they stare
K is for Killing
Yourself dont you see
L is for Liar
You didnt mean to be
M is for Monsters
Hiding under your bed
N is for Neurotic
The thoughts in your head
O is for Over
You feel you are through
P is for Protection
From the things that you do
Q is for Questions
Answers dont know
R is for Rape
The world you dont show
The Struggle and The FallThe rain had started.The Struggle and The Fall8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The clouds hid the sun
and replaced it with melancholic skies.
I tried to run from it,
to avoid every drop,
to evade every part of it.
But I found myself trapped in its wicked claws.
And it bombarded me with memories I repressed.
From every heartache to every downfall, the rain brought them back.
In the middle of its downpour, my sadness flowed from my lonely eyes.
Alone, I whispered words of grief and loneliness.
I wished for better days.
I asked for happier times.
But the rain became heavier.
Its drops wounded my skin like bullets from heaven.
Every inch of me was drenched in blood, anguish, and despair.
I became an abomination.
A being with lesions as repulsive as the man I was before.
Depression had set in once again.
And there I was.
Looking for shelter.
Longing for love's arms.
Yet I was unable to move.
My feet were as heavy as my heart.
Then it stopped.
The rain had ended as sudden as it started.
Dejected and wounded, I stood frozen.
The sun was back.
7Erotica78 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
on the feast
of your skin
was like wine
longing for more
the laity's lust.
the lover's gluttony.
the harlot's envy.
the virgin's pride.
the moralist's wrath.
the suitor's sloth.
the cheater's greed.
within one's self,
the innocence of
And deep down
for the end
of this insatiable
for the flesh.
and the hand
your first name.
Visceraostracize the wounded; listen!Viscera7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to the way they graze over sidewalks,
un! deux! trois! quatre! cinq!
counting bones and the chipped teeth
of sun-browned children, they come
six! sept! huit! neuf! dix!
plus one/subtract the liver, and stipple
the ribs with paint; this thin viscus,
crippled with veins - - stilled eyes
some porphyry and feldspar flecked,
onze! douze! treize! quatorze! quinze!
counting small rodents and bag pipes - -
lisping fingers from the wagon train
like pale arachnids between the spokes
the fifth seasonscratch blueprints into her bark,the fifth season6 years ago in Typographical More Like This
her ground, her sea.
stumble amidst the tumbleweeds, born from the stomach of her wretched earth,
and witness her mothers' sweet decay
broken legends renounce their life:
pray a solemn cry for regeneration.
tear open the seal, rip open her soul- where
pages are left imprinted, just unread. breathe, and unravel
lies: her beautiful beautiful forged lies;
she's calling now, her vacant mind
a famine in the harvest;
where she's waiting now, a crisp frost
splintering through june, her letters
sown and scattered amongst the soil.
bury your heart, your soul, your sin.
she made your heart, a patchwork programmed-
she'll own your life:
and she's ready to begin.
SmutBright lightsSmut8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
with the saxophone.
On and off.
Off and on.
to the hymn
of the malicious
with the smell
and she bathed
not in milk and honey
but in stares and heckles.
of lustful predators,
between her thighs
was the stage
erotic bed scenes.
was the brothel.
was the red light district.
and day out,
she was a star
through her exhausted
the policeman's knees.
the politician's pockets.
the engineer's tower.
the husband's child.
the blind man's senses.
She was Cleopatra.
My unseen Cleopatra.
My beloved wife.
swallow your marbles "mama,"swallow your marbles7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
He says, I would like to connect with stars.
He pretends the fireworks are for his dad. They shatter when they reach the air and a million thousand arms rain down on the ocean before they fizzle, taken aqua and blue and green, and the seaweed entangles until there are just hands under the sea, holding. His mother holds a flag tucked in-between her fingers like a cigarette and sometimes she brings it up to her lips, her eyes rolling backwardssometimes she forgets. Someone is throwing up in the bathroom.
At home they stew, alone. It is easier to watch the pot when it refuses to boil, and she stares at the empty stove, fuming, bubbling. He plays with his fork and tries to stick it up his nose, and smiles at her, because he is a little boy and that is what they do: they stick things, they bury things, they brea
when time does not healThere's a light bulb in your chest, it flickers on/off the coral reef,when time does not heal8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
it's pinkish and reminds me of babies
though i don't know why yet.
The buzzer rings and it's never you,
as always, i am carpet faced
and full of tiny yous that won't hack out
with drawing pins, i just sit inside my own shipwreck.
I thought i could control the epileptic fits
brought on by your fast heart-blinks.
i'm on the brink of something scientific, something raw
as you say i give you new illnesses
and put your medicine in the draw,
you are happy until i shuffle back
on tired hands and knees,
I stutter into garbage bags
then you just hurl things back like i expect too much,
i'm submerged in your blood screams,
in my eye streams
that travel towards places with names like --
but you are everywhere, it seems
with your hands held tight by somebody new,
by somebody who
has been there a month, but outweighs my 12
of support by
Dear Katy: Younger SelfDear Katy,Dear Katy: Younger Self6 years ago in Biography & Memoir More Like This
I'm looking back at you, dwelling there in our past. I'm looking from a place that it's taken a long time to reach, a place that at one point, you never thought you'd get to. Like right now. You there, in the past, I know exactly what you are thinking. I can see you frowning back at me, one eyebrow tilted slightly in indignation. How dare this stranger approach me in such a stark manner.
You wrote so often to me, in your poems and your thoughts, so it's only fair that I return the gesture now. As they say...better late than never. And maybe I'm not too late...
I'd like to tell you so many things to save you heartache. Because I know what's going to happen to you tomorrow...next month...and next year. I can see the scenes vividly in my mind and with every strike I flinch because I know your pain. You are an old head on young shoulders my dear self, and that will be your downfall on occasion.
You're going to fall hard because your heart is in the right plac