biopsyput me under, cover my face, stuff my lungs with your chemical lies.
if they were to take me apart,
slice open my chest,
peel back the skin keeping me whole,
they would find:
a. one heart, slowly ticking.
(they would not find anything,
but they would have to say they did.
after all, girls can't live without a heart.
they forget that i'm not the first:
a score of girls walking even though
they should have faded long ago.)
b. each rib curved so perfectly,
a shield around my lungs.
(a cage, keeping my breath from bursting
out of my skin. know that this is just me,
held together by nature,
unable to lose control of myself.)
c. two sacs of cells, nestled beside each other.
(no first-hand smoke here, no sir.
only second-hand dust, only
things i could not get rid of,
only bits of places i've been,
caught in my body.
postcards of memories i can't see.)
d. a skeleton, still and alive.
(sleeping, with blood cells being produced
in the hollows of my curves.
the rattling of my bones cannot
Clichei. true loveCliche1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
& you were that one famous line
of a love poem 1863 sonnet
scripted down your spine, verses
of sternum & shuddering heartbeat.
i remember the sheets twisted blue
as the eventide, your eyes like thelassia,
that species of ocean grass. we swayed
to the music of galaxies colliding.
our song was the day the tides
finally curled round the moon's face.
eventides, thelassia eyes, moon
great and heavy as that one lucky coin
that refused to land, to grant a wish
or let luck decide for us. there were
star crabs scuttling under your
oragami skin. & i never realized
all the ways that you folded
until the doctor came back &
you folded into yourself,
please don't tell me it was disease.
please don't mention the fact
that there was a constellation
blossoming underneath your skin
as if it excuses the metaphor
of your candle-eyes dimming.
i was there for the treatment.
you weren't, rag-doll girl. you
hung limp as wet clot
aquaticsi am trying not to let you flood my insides; no such luck.aquatics1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
we are 2 separate rafts on opposite sides of the sea that
share the same fleet and no matter how hard we try to
find each other in the depths of these waters, the waves
just drift us apart.
(you are in everything you belong with me everywhere you
are my everything you have my everything - i gave you it all -
you are everything)
my fingers are numb,
my God they are fucking numb with(out) you
and they ache.
i am aching all over, my fingers are pains, i am aching all over.
i am an a-c-h-e. my head, it pounds with memories and fantasies
and replays the time you laced your fingers with mine during one
of the only church services that willingly collapsed us to our knees
& made us mean something.
my eyes, they fucking ache too. every blink brings us a moment closer
to whatever it is we're waiting for but the nights seem to get longer
without your warm arms; secure. instead,
i am wide and dripping, flailing on the mattress
royal mistakeyour bones speak a language my tongue hasn't learned yet.royal mistake1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
they are bitter, from crown to toe-curls; you are bitter and
bent out of shape. you are no royalty, just a common man
building his wall of bricks but you pedestalize yourself
amongst the highest of crowds; the dieties and Gods watch
as you adorn yourself in ill-gotten robes of shimmering gold.
the angels observe in understandable offense as you remove
the cloak of vulnerability and the past, replace it with diamond
studs and p(r)etty fluff as if your children are an audience.
you have become a skeleton in your 50 years, you have become
a skeleton. a dismantled pile of flesh-bearing sticks lying stagnant,
so when you take a step, stones are thrown at your knees and you
are the man who stays. you are not a man, you are not a man, you
are barely a human.
days and days and days and time and your voice cracks when you
speak to her except you don't speak to her, you growl at the walls
and onto her. you melt yourself into tears and col
cobblestones.cobblestones1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
i pulled a napkin from the silver tin,
wiped the table clear, drops of ketchup staining the center.
i crushed the paper in my palm, felt the dampness reach the edges.
hurt cloud, she said as i let it roll across the table.
shooting baskets as the day ended,
the ball went over the backboard, disappeared into the dark.
she shrugged, then bent low, picked up pebbles.
your poor hands, she said. you have so many scars,
and you're still so young. (she, younger than i, saying this)
she touched one hand, then after a pause she took the other
without looking at me.
some things take so much courage.
we sat like that for a long time,
i passed two old women by the river.
one stopped, pulled off her shoe
and shook a pebble out.
it dropped into the water
and she continued on,
from the absence dented into her foot.
the other had stopped a ways ahead.
she waited and said, a pebble?
the woman nodded. her whole life
dirty sinksno one's there for you. not even the boy withdirty sinks2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
blue-yellow eyes or his sister with the bluish-
green eyes. your parents aren't there and your
guidance counselor is a bitch and the woman who
goes to your church passed away last week, so
i guess she's not there for you either. sometimes,
you wonder if God is there for you & you'd like
to think that he is but "less often than not" is
what you tell yourself and when you told yourself
that, tears used to form but not anymore, no sir
not anymore, because you're used to it now.
"just because you're used to it, doesn't mean you
want it," you hear the man in the trees say one
june afternoon. you think yes, yes that's true
but what can i do about it? the sink is already
dirty and i already disappointed everyone and i'm
starting to think that my parents don't really love
me, it was all just a show, and God doesn't even
know who i am because if he did, he'd make something
happen that would make me smile during the day and
show off all my dentist's
recklesshis head was filled with fluff and his heart wasn't warm enough to care about much else apart from himself in the overwhelmingreckless1 year ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
set of school and corridors that were filled with strangers whose eyes said so much without the help of lips. classrooms were never the right temperature
and he think they purposely made the desks too hard to comfortably rest your head on. stupid boy with nothing of any real concern and no reason
to be troubled. doesn't mean he wasn't trouble. his eyes wandered from the board and his teachers words and landed on her, with birdnest hair and ocean blue eyes. he laughed at her strange clothes or the book she clutched so tightly to her chest, like a lifeline or a extension of herself.
bell rung, a rush a blur of people flew out doors and into the yard, and he followed her, the girl with the heartbook. he wanted it, it worked into his small little mind and he wanted to see inside it. with the worst intentions though. he walked up to her, and points over at something
cadavershe was born with arctic lipscadaver1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
and overcast skin.
her hair fell like fresh snow
and she was far too thin.
her bones in locked closets,
joints creaked and shrieked
like a rotten floorboard
under gossamer feet.
internalwe had a code, a way of telling the other that our mind wasn't stable that dayinternal1 year ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
'i feel like smashing all the plates in the house again today'
not so secret; not too clever
but it worked
you said it every single day for two weeks, and it was always followed by you tossing your head back to gulp down half a
bottle of rot gut. i told you to stop it, and you tried.
it lasted two days.
then it got worse.
worse, worse, worse. i started to wonder if you were just getting more 'you'.
maybe you were just an inherent fuck-up, and it was hardwired into your dna.
god, you really were more than just unstable.
but you were delicate.
god dam this world makes me mad sometimes. everyone is too busy trying to stop
people hurting other people, that they don't notice those hurting
i noticed you.
no-one else did though.
no-one ever fucking does.
the speaking of hipshis vertebrae clickthe speaking of hips1 year ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
with mine, a slow symphony
and i am alive.
truthsi.truths10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
there are 2 things that not even the most
forceful of rains can cleanse me of:
sometimes, i feel like a caged lion.
only with a lot more impatience
and a lot less resilience.
i have yet to discover what it means to be content.
i am either too stagnant or too fluid.
no middle ground.
i have mastered the art of leaving.
it's the idea of moving on that still haunts me.
i fear that the light in my eyes is so dim that it will burn out
before even i have a chance to see the world with it.
i am not as clever as i pretend to be.
someone needs to teach me that
i don't need reassurance; i need self-assurance.
that someone should be me.
my greatest fears are loneliness and cancer.
the second because all my beauty is in my hair.
the first doesn't need an explanation.
i am still discovering what it means to be a woman.
everything is confusing me.
i am secretly afraid of massages.
feels like i'm being stabbed.
we all know how that is.
starvetoday, i don't hate myself enoughstarve9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
to deny the hungers for -
a cup of coffee that will treat me like sin dancing to the pulse of my bloodstream
the absence of guilt
cracks in personality
screaming poems silently at my reflection
today, i will gorge
on the things i vowed to give up.
today, i will break vows.
today, i am a glutton
for relapse and binge cycles,
for starvation and changing reflections.
tomorrow, i will wish
i could be the skeleton that
hangs in my closet.
[ leave the tears where they lie,
take the fallen stars and ripped up wings,
do not regret spinning circles
around vices. ]
bone-deepyour scapula, more commonly known as thebone-deep1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
shoulder blade, carries the weight of my
words better than my grandfather carried
his welding tools in 1971
up & down the stairs
day after day
up & down.
your rib cage holds the puff of gusto that allows
you to whisper those tender words in my ear.
the sheets cover me all the way to my neck
because there was a slight breeze last night.
[you & i both have happy
jobs and can't afford new windows]
your radius is the first thing i think of when
life's tides are too high. i grip your arm & feel
blessed that i have you and you have me, because
things wouldn't be the same otherwise.
your bones are sharp enough to leave scars like
the ones both of our wrists own, but thoughts
like that are hushed when love burns to the core.
confessionalthey say sad girls change their hair colorconfessional10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
and forgive their monsters.
i change my morals
and become one.
my body is a funeral servicethis morning i emptied your ashes into the sky, hoping to watch them sift through my fingers like an eagle taking flight. but the wind carried them backwards and my face became an ashtray for memories. you came back to me, like you always do, like a kiss or a reoccurring dream that i can never forget. i became cloaked in black grain, the remnants of your body. your cremated smile was caught somewhere between the stinging in my eyes and the ash on my jacket.my body is a funeral service1 year ago in Emotional More Like This
in that moment my body became a funeral service. my lips preached your names to the trees. i forgot what it was like to feel anything but hymns pressing down on my back like the heat of the sun. i smelled of incense and bones burning in a fire people are paid to create. it was more than i could bear. for weeks, i obsessed on how someone could lift a motionless shell of a body into an inferno, watch people die a second time and accept their paycheck at the end of the day.
i wanted to step into that crematorium and pluck pulses like f
muddy visioni. sometimes i see dates on things and i'll say,muddy vision2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
"february twenty-sixth? oh, that wasn't very long ago at all,
wasn't that only a few days ago? what month is it anyway?"
and you'll look at me like i'm more lost than i'll ever know,
not even laughing because you know i'm serious.
"it's mid-april, you know that. don't you?"
i'd say, look down or away or up at the sky because at least it was constant
with its even grey, clouds rolling around and threatening rain,
always threatening rain.
i can't remember the last time they were clear and blue,
in the same way i can't remember if march even happened
or if that was just a filler blank, meant to be played out later on.
ii. at any rate nothing is sticking and that scares me so fucking bad, worse
than it does that i've forgotten my own birthday because who needs birthdays
when there's nothing memorable about them? i mean do you remember
what you did on your eighth, ninth, fourteenth, seventeenth birthday?
i feel more li
001 i am a whirlwind of00110 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
an aching heart
a regret that could
satellite boyyou always told me,satellite boy2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to never be like you.
to not be faithless, blameless,
you told me,
you had a satellite boy,
who guided your way home.
you told me,
he fell from the heavens.
you always told me,
you were just trying to find
someone whose heart wasn't beating,
because that way, they would never
once, you made me promise,
to never swear on my own grave,
for a friend going insane.
Prescription pillsIt was a jazz dance, the double kick heartbeatPrescription pills1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
of two bodies, locked elbows and black silk ribbons,
2 inch wide bounds.
Breaths landed on my shoulder like fists pound,
your fingers kept me strong.
I could dissolve, saltwater on your tongue.
This was a moment,
no, not a moan-ment,
but your morning beer came fluttering through the spaces
of your individualistic teeth,
clasping my neck and telling me
"hush, hush, you don't know what you're saying".
That's the way it always went;
and I never got the right words out in time,
just before you could leave the door open and say
"i'll be back, baby, in just a few days".
It started with a teacup and your chipped words
cut my skin more often than the scotch-taped ceramic.
You said it was like love;
desperate to belong to someone but too fickle in the way we put it together.
I can't stand you, can't stand the gas stove and the expired tea
and the generation worn pickup lines
that I still fall for, stupid me.
landlocked.i think she's decided that its winters fault she is still grounded in thislandlocked.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
dead end city.
the cold snap has rendered her wings
covered by layers of survival
but she just see's them as useless
and keeping her stuck
when she'd rather be anywhere else
dollarstore happy.this happiness feels fragile, like if i hold it too long it will break,dollarstore happy.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
the way some things just do.
a dollarstore happy,
i like the weight of it on my skin though.
the way the fragile skin over my wrists has healed into soft tapeworms.
the way the sky seems bluer even when its grey.
i can feel my heartbeat in my fingertips.
my heart lives on the tip of my tongue where i keep swallowing it down
in the hope that someday it might stay down,
and i will be able to forget.
i will learn to forget the pulse in my wrists
and unlearn the butterflies that live under my ribcage.
i will call my heart the sea and sail it
instead of letting it drown me,
and allow my emotions to wash up on the beach of my doubts
and wither until you can smell the swell of happy i will wear in my bones.
i will refit the canvas of my skin
so that maybe someday i can for once in my life feel at home under my shatterglass ribcage and unzippered spine.
CherishedI want you to worship this loveCherished1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
I write poems about
I tore it out of a virgin womb
just for you,
and I bear to you now, naked,
shivering in the nervousness of flesh
exposed to a cold world.
It will suck on the breasts
and kiss the lips of small-town drunks
with their whiskey-tipped breath
and hollow eyes,
and I will touch my fingers
to its precious little mouth
and feel the warm saliva
bathe my skin.
I want you to put your ear
to its unguarded chest and listen
to the murmur
of its shriveled heart,
pulsatingthe warm, lively core.
A tempest, the Red Sea succumbing to Moses.
The fall of the tower of Babel.
Watch the tidal waves thrash the sand
when it raises its fist.
God will crumble at your feet.
You will snatch up the pieces
and rebuild him
in your image, not his.
And you will be lost, crawling on your belly,
for my hand.
And I will reach for you.
I will reach for you.
meltingshe spilled across her bed,melting2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
an oil-spill of excuses why.
they promised they would mop her up,
but how could she possibly believe them
when none of them could see the
oil that dripped out of her?
they were all blind to
the stain eating her up,
polluting her insides.
the pain, the ache,
the never ending cycle of
pretending she was okay.
if only to prevent a national
sinking ships.the sadness is so big your ribssinking ships.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
cannot wrap itself around it anymore.
breathing only fills your head with air.
eating is a sin that only fills your lungs and suffocates you.
see, they made her wrong.
her arteries are disconnected,
the brain chemistry is all wrong.
her veins are highways, interrupted. her voicebox an unopened letter.
she's just another piece of cheap china, gathering dust on the shelf of every second-hand store.
selfhate and sadness preprogrammed in the parchment of her bones, so she can never forget.
feel your pulse, set it free,
remind the ocean not to breathe
as it drips down your arm and encircles your wrists.
(you're screaming for the courage to press down hard enough, just once).
pull your bones out of place
so that when they fall back,
you might know some part of you fits.
set your fingertips on fire
so when the ships pass
you can spell out S.O.S
because your soul is drowning in the ocean of your chest.
tear out the stitches
until you can finally lea