Passion FishHolding you I jumpPassion Fish11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Into the spectacle of the sea
Sinking into a school
Of vermillion grouper:
The day-star strikes a path for us
Deep into the swelling rhythm
Of the ancient blue,
The somber cool;
Above the surface,
A vanilla sky;
From the inside
Of a flower;
Our hands explore dark waters for treasured touch;
Separating seaweed with fingertip scythes
Of poignant flesh;
Being with you is like floating for the first time
In my own personal ocean,
Or standing barefoot in the wake
Of a tsunami, unafraid;
Or holding a jewel
Gaurdian AngelGaurdian Angel13 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Clear blue eyes
Lifeless and empty
See what the world misses</i>
The open wounds of a torn heart
Picked and prodded at
Flushed with salt water
And left to scar
The burning tears
Flowing freely down pale cheeks
Scorching the skin
Left to puddle
Shimmering cold hands
Try to save
What the world dismisses</i>
A broken soul
So obviously lost
Left to stand vulnerable
In an uncaring cruel world
A shattered body
Ripped into pieces
Left for the scavengers
To tear at and destroy
Calming gentle voice
To comfort the one
The world forgot</i>
Lying Through TeethLying Through Teeth11 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Some people forget what its like
To have love
And be loved,
And be so deep in love.
Oh what a wonderful job they do
While lying through
But I should speak for myself
and let it all out
IM PERFECTLY GOOD AT LYING TO MYSELF
You made me believe in what could never be
and all of those warm and fuzzy feelings
That only existed in my
So thank you so much
For holding on for so long,
and prolonging my heartache with another
poisoned love song
And watch me fall apart
Like I knew would happen from the
Now, I know Im no where near
and obviously Im not worth it..
And Im still trying while
through my teeth
when I say....
"It doesnt bother me to simply see that you're with her now
and not with me..But thats okay. Im okay!"
Because I am
PERFECTLY GOOD AT LYING TO MYSELF
buckled down, babybuckled down, baby10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
This bed feels like cardboard, I am tucked inside
egg-shell skin, I try to unbolt myself
and crack hard into the air.
Your picture drips down the walls,
door hinges stretch and groan
while records shuffle as I chew up old love songs
until they understand what it's like
to be small enough to hide under
the clunk of your shoe-slap
on slippy floors as you walk away
-- fingers are gnawed by their sharp edges.
I was always independent, but ever quite free,
this room churns like cogs
and clocks spin out of tune. I peel away
heavy scabs from shoes that rubbed
my ankles raw, my skirt, fresh from the laundrette
mocks me as it presses against wounds.
Belly down on hospital sheets, my limbs hang
over the sidelines, loosening slowly --
your voice sounds like an applause.
I can dangle your words over edges
from my fingertips, pull each strand along
the uneven ground, so the thumping,
throbbing letters from clipboards
crawl on behind me.
The carpet is soaked with you.
but you are more...you pick roses from the gardenbut you are more...7 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
with your bare hands because you
like seeing the blood. it makes you feel
alive. you wipe your hands on your
jeans and you tell your parents
it was a mistake, an accident, and you
are so sorry. but youve always
been a good liar, havent you?
its an art, you say, and youve
got it down. its a shame -
you dont really want to be
an artist, but you are.
the world is so fucking jealous
of the talents you dont even want.
God, theyve ruined you,
havent they? theyve spit on
your heart and theyve
ripped out your hair and said
youre the biggest bitch
in the entire world and youve
started to believe them.
but you are still so innocent -
you still like flowers, no? and
you still believe in happily ever after
and love and the fairytales still
make you smile. and you
would give anything for someone to
make you feel like youre worth something.
won't come homewon't come home10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A motorway will not be the only thing
that splits us apart. Eleven days
and runways will run
between our dehydrated cells,
they match like leather boots.
Your mother has a suitcase crushing her chest,
this will not be the last time
she will shove herself towards doctors , saying
'there are four hearts
I do not see anymore, now mine falls hard
to the other side.' It is loud there,
like airports, before crowds of people
leave behind these country smells
and their skinny cats. All she has left is a phone number,
but there is not enough love in those digits.
About a quarter of me is absent now,
I crash into puddles then blink my clothes dry --
Two years ago, I did not believe you
would prick out my smiles like splinters, pull me out
like the pins jammed into your notice-board chest
where photos used to giggle.
turn to propellers,
and all I can do is wave.
wiring instructionswiring instructions10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You have enough
when cameras remind you of ice-cream tubs and long walks
that lead you past council estates, two drunken men
throw themselves at you like empty coffee jars
that make sounds like the nights you stay up
thinking, instead of dreaming,
but you're okay with that
because you have somewhere to walk to
and from, everyday.
You do enough
when you can stab pillowcases instead of smiles
and chew on your best friends brain like digestive biscuits
then pick up the crumbs. When you can slot your own heart
back in place and hear it click like light switches
or maybe on
because this could be something
like a new flight of stairs, or a hospital lift
that tells you exactly where you are before you get out.
You are enough
when University is a girl who wakes you up
poking your ribcage saying 'wakey wakey,
time to move along now'
and you can feel the loss of a man
that was just press studded into you,
he left too many air holes in your achy body
like one hundred and fourteen 'I'm
No junkNo junk10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I was in the kitchen with a cereal box on my head
when something like a TV or a mindset
switched off. I was no longer a smile with pink hair ribbons
and too many watches weighing down my left arm --
I was tearing out my arteries with pins and needles,
something like sadness or love or saline [can't tell which]
dropped from eyelids.
I wanted to take my summer dress off and replace it
with things not so beautiful --big brown leggings
and long sleeved jumpers from discount shops.
Sometimes there is a breeze block on my chest
and something inside is not as free as it wants to be,
it just clatters around under cheese grated skin
and layers of heart peel like oranges
with a slight ripping sound.
Telephone wires lay to heavy on xylophone ribs
and hip bones turn to planets,
I did not know whether to lick chocolate spread from my fingers
before I took a breath or not. Sometimes things are hard
like looking you in the eye
or making a full English breakfast before going to the gym,
it makes me fe
love sometimes feels like thisI wanted to climb inside your chestlove sometimes feels like this8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and rest there, with my head lent on your heart.
That is the image I get, when I miss you. Then my heart
swells and buldges through my rib cage, like you are really inside there
and I dont want to let you out. I hold onto you
until you come pouring out of my eyes.
I want to cup your face, your feet, and push you back in.
I place steel rods in through my bones that hold me together
in ways I cannot.
I tie pink ribbons around my skull
and my throat, as it bloats like there are twins inside
kicking each other, as if to say we are connected
by more than a placenta and then I hear a cry.
I think back to when I touched your bellybutton,
you giggled and I shot fireworks out of my eyeballs
and they held your body the closest to mine it could ever get.
A second later, you were on a train, you were gripping a suitcase
and I waved and weeped
and my heart fell into more pieces than it is made out of.
twenty-five places at oncetwenty-five places at once10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Maybe there is a girl somewhere with a heart that hangs out
of a hunched spine, spluttering all over like firework, like broken taps,
maybe she ties her hair back like a seven year old for reasons like:
not to smudge cells that try to hide under floorboards
and to tuck everything back inside, like something red
wound up in elastic bands that only beats
every five point two seconds
The windows do not need to be closed right now,
they empty like dirty bathtubs, organs slosh around in soil
and leave mud prints on fingers.
Maybe there is a girl somewhere who wants to wear questions
on her left breast like:
why don't you care about those freckles that re-arrange into lines
almost like scars and then coil in on themselves like wet paper
trying to find you?
And why don't you care about things like phone calls
from a mother with five star hotels and Australian summers
burning the inside of her cranium?
Maybe there is a girl somewhere that covers herself up with blankets
that have been
Maybe and WouldI write small, cursive Maybe and Would8 years ago in Other More Like This
the letters of a journalist
who was maybe five years ago abused.
She got out. Its fine now.
And maybe she lived in New York City. Maybe every morning
as she buttoned her bruises up,
she admired the excellent dirty streets.
It was with a fragile sort of hope.
She wished on drainpipes, discarded cigarettes.
if fate diagnosed her terminally lucky
at the exact moment a taxi heaved itself forward
into the path of her erected thumb, it would just keep going
the brakes would just
There was nothing
sinking full moons.hook.sinking full moons.7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
evolution reconstructed the words in between
beginnings until mermaids existed
in pieces of jupiter and pluto,
playing astronaut or god.
(they like to pretend theyre
shipwrecked nations out in
they like to pretend
they have your heart or
something equally gilded and worthless.)
they needed something more than folding
faceless sons and daughters out of origami
flowers but you were
busy wondering about
the mechanics of things like fifth degree burns and
gravity and the way electromagnets must
have reversed the inner workings of their
the planets are waiting for the right
moment to collide, hiding behind folds
of the universe and the lines that god or somebody
sketched into your palms. (but you
erased them, didnt you?)
tell me something special about yourself,
something not even the angels know. tell me something
fragile enough to break from the beating of butterfly wings
or in the silence of shadows. ill find synonyms
for transcontinental ligh
I'm not tellingI'm not telling10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You were writing me poetry and all I wanted to say is
'do not stop do not stop do not stop' and I kept coughing up heartbeats
and sexy lumps phlegm that said the same. This is not about you understanding me,
or you sat in the hallway with a tray of toast and soup waiting
for when I stop crying into fruit bowls and unhinge the lock --
Or even you talking to me at 1:32AM when my mother has plane crashes
in her eyes and needs to steal my lungs
for longer than I can take.
This is about strapping muscle to my legs with cellophane
so I no longer need an electric scooter or grey crutch.
You know those days,
I'm dancing on the sidewalk
with a pink flower in my hair and I don't care that people look,
this happens more often than last month.
I'm riding a bike and screaming a laugh,
the sun is blistering my feet --
sensitive skin has never reminded me of summer before.
I read newspapers with bombs in their titles
and funerals in their print, I do not understand why
you cannot see
Yes, good, okaya blank page is my piano.Yes, good, okay7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and sometimes, you have to ignore the truth
to accept it more thoroughly
when the light finally falls against your kneecaps
in bars of sun
and you see the hair you missed shaving
and you don't care, really, because you know who you are.
When this happens,
it is not like the shifting of a puzzle piece back into its place;
it is not like the moon being brighter than usual, it is not a shooting star,
it is not a bittersweet release. It is a song
careening off the tip of a worn tongue and catching
on the back of its notes,
their clefs and colors
settling into your bones.
It is not an affair, a miracle,
or a passed test. It is simply and finally the sight
of you not looking away from your own gaze.
It is family, it is the taste of your own sigh.
It is the extensive, the whole, the unblocked. It is you.
Your back hurts.
Your nails are growing.
And every second felt
is a second alive every second alive
Freebird, 1And you are the humming bird, seen forever behind a nude window frame.Freebird, 18 years ago in Other More Like This
You are the gone color splash, already flown
at the creak of a red door. You are the hungry beat of thrummed wingspan
heard through a wall that I press my ear against
without jewelry in the pierce holes.
You pulse outward. The air bows to you,
I toss yarn about your small invisible feet.
Attached is a note
that took me sixteen years to translate. It reads, in bird cursive:
When the bodies talk in five months,
when they move their awed bones
towards your feeder,
will you leave it dripping unfinished business
with your beak?
or will you be
the first free bird
when You were fourteenYou spit, splatter Your eyelasheswhen You were fourteen9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
against his cheeks, You rub Your forehead
on her wall holding poison in Your hands,
he should cower, but does not, she should
You hold Yourself
like Your family have disowned You
for the fifty eighth time and grin into doors
at how sad you can be. You wash dinner plates
one a time and Your chests pour out bubbles.
i often replace You with a DoubleYou to show You
how big these things can seem when you hold two telescopes
to the map on your thigh and calculate carefully
where the pain will end up. Not in Your feet,
or chest, not in Your skull or pinky fingers
but in a dinning room table where Your mother eats
from soup bowls and Your father pets Your dog
and on a silver platter in the middle, Your brother
and sisters stab a fork into Your heart.
brighter.i. you say my name likebrighter.7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
it was meant
to be pretty.
x. you told me that
watching candles glow
in the night was beautiful;
but they are nothing
compared to you.
iii. you could take out
my heart. you could
rip it, and you could
put it back together and
make me into something
z. you glow
the prettiest shade
on postcards homeon postcards home10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
We have an illness, its symptoms can't be cured
with painkillers and bed rest, we are tucked inside
our own breath and like to sleep there, with the cold
frowning against into skin. We are ugly
in our infected cells, in places like knee caps and smile lines.
Our DNA folds up and falls out like hair looking
for residence in the pavement cracks.
We are slowly changing into non-living particles
edging closer into each others blood-stream,
it's warmer there.
I would like you to stop saying you hate yourself,
it reminds me of gun shots and loud music,
I can't find my bullet proof vest or ear plugs
so I know this will hurt like broken jaws and bruised skin.
I guess I got tired of giving you wire hugs
to make it all better, the connection is never strong enough
and everything gets tangled on the way,
what I really wanted to do was leave all the scarves at home
and tell secrets into palms of your hands like electric heaters.
We know how to laugh so much it makes doors fly open,
dance for an endyou shot me to feel cleaner about yourself, ya your the dirtiest one around.dance for an end10 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
my body did the best that my body can.
You dance cause you know that its the end, I should have had the trust in my friends.
You blew everyone's tires, and walked bragging about how you destroyed someone who you said you admired.
It's the end, you should know by now how to love yourself.
You light the fire that burns underneath our feet.
She was my angel, but my angel got tired of lying around.
Im doing the best that I can to hold back.
You know what I say.
Youll see what i'll be
the same.i told you that youthe same.7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
could never love me
your heart is wonderfully
into pieces that
no one will ever
want. you smiled and
took out your heart
ripped it into
pieces that match
you said you could
love me because
the same, now.