helium balloon lungsi. You write me notes scribbled on sandpaperhelium balloon lungs1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
and I run them across my face,
scraping away layers of saccharine skin,
ii. Your eyes, made of cookie crumbs,
I'd like to dip them in milk
and watch them melt,
smoking like dry ice,
iii. You churn my childish heart
in circles and in circles
till I slip into cardiac arrest,
iv. I just remembered that time you
wrapped your arms around me like vines
and held me until you couldn't,
v. Oh what I'd give for a pair of
fortune cookie lungs,
exhaling self-fulfilling prophecy,
vi. I've been fishing for horoscopes,
pasting them onto my bedroom walls
and on the backside of my skin,
hoping that they tell me that
today is the day you will be mine,
vii. But your soul is made up of sins
and I do believe in forgiveness,
but forgive me, for I cannot forget.
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
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.
how to pay the plumberthe sun is born of ink that leaks from dog-eared galaxieshow to pay the plumber1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
and the night is made of copper eyes that pipe the constellations
but we are too polite to stare.
any hand that may brush my back must bleed the alphabet
from wearied fingertips, and this is why:
happiness is ice and crinkled bones all wrapped up warm in the
childless rings of saturn
and your smiling face-of-a-cliff that scorches pretty spring skin dry.
we will never say we will never love so
i will die beside,
you die below.
purgeheaving up a universepurge1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
is nothing on my stomach,
yet my scared molested heart
jumps out of the way.
the purge, a dark scent
weeping over the pointlessness
the ache and sorrow
the filling and emptying
of a creature so profoundly
unzippedi.unzipped2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
it was all skinned knees
and stop signs between us.
we pushed too hard
or not hard enough.
the last star i wished upon
turned out to be a satellite,
and the last time i kissed you
really wasn't the last time.
the scent of romance- pine needles
and sawdust clung to my shoulders
where your fingers left goose flesh
when i least expected it.
i'd be tangled up in you and bed sheets
if i didn't know you better than that,
[sweetheart,] you're thunderstorms on
Saturday nights and "Why don't you stay
for awhile"'s and the infidelities
that line my cheeks.
biopsyput me under, cover my face, stuff my lungs with your chemical lies.biopsy1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
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
MusingI'm too young to spend my lifeMusing1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
running from the thunder,
staring at the kitchen walls wondering
how life would be different
if they weren't the same color.
NeedA kiss-Need1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Upon my breast
Finding sensitivity with urgency
Hands press into my hips
Passion flowing from eager fingertips
Pressing strong into my willing flesh
He whispers hotly into flushed skin
Words falling like a kiss upon my ear
I want you
I need you.
a drug or choosingYour oily prints upon my eyesa drug or choosing1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Blessed art thou
You bleed through the cracks in my walls
Eyes, pores in every centimeter of wallpaper
Watching me sleep, watching my night-mare
The horse running from the fire-like river
Pouring down the mountain to the plains below
Engulfing my atmosphere in golden red smoke
I am not addicted
slip-The memories of her come in portraits:slip-1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
heavily scented with her cigarette scent,
dusty autumn coats on the faded ink.
"He dreamt of a woman who moved like the sea,
perpetually flooding the alcove of his mind,
bearing eyes as blue, with hints of green,
like water in cupped hands,
slipping through thin fingers to pour
past the shoreline,
falling deeply in love with the ocean tide."
The memories of her come in poems:
brief as her kisses and
lonesome as the night.
amaryllis.Naked ladies standamaryllis.1 year ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
with their pink petals up and
their tall, green stems down.
red cocktail dressesyou remind me of those women,red cocktail dresses1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
the ones with curled eyelashes and thick
tight red cocktail dresses,
look up at boys
with pale moon eyes.
my dreams are shrouded in white fumes
of last year's chemical reaction,
and i wish my hands would
when i listen to the rustling
its hustling clocks
and yellow cabs,
i wonder if you still love me,
the way we should
love one another,
but only sinners shed
i wonder how long you've lied
because my seams are opening,
and my pulse is
and i'm worried
i'll be one of those women,
drowning in their
Open EyesI want mountains to tickle my shoulder bladesOpen Eyes1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
and make me giggle.
I want to wear sunshine like a scarf;
To spend days hanging onto each of
rock bottom, ocean floorhalf-past a different kind of brokenrock bottom, ocean floor8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
on sadness, she wrote:
blind fool in the umbra
bury yourself in me
on the other side of lonely
and by god, i love you
(maybe i will be a landfill)
everyone i meet looks for a place to stay;
out of the woods, on wet roads
under wind, under rain
-i'm so far away
no wonder it took him 1455 pages
waiting for her to come this way
tramps like us-
in lieu of emptiness
in absence of a poem
(pour a little salt, we were never here)
your heart was a broken sailor
fishing for hearts with lace and not netting;
into the deep end of our story
i saw god leaving the shore
The ocean and the nightMy songs were buried in sand,The ocean and the night1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
leaving entrails of corals
that formed galaxies
in the cerulean waves of the sea
(thirsty nights of reefs
where stars turned
into the salt of the oceans
in the heavens).
And in those days,
you were my conch shell.
But I wasn't a siren, no-
I was chipped glass
that danced over rippled water
finding a lullaby
in the whispers crashing in the shores
(whose echoes reach the depth of the stars
in stark moonlight).
time travel (continued)time travel (continued)7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
time heals, remember?
burying despair: death.
grandfather time, immortal?
on loving counterclockwise.
After The WarAfter blood is spiltAfter The War2 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
May pretty flowers grow
in their memory.
a poem abouti lie on the floor and liea poem about1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
endlessly to you.
(when you kiss me i
can only think about
dust dust dust and how
the pounding ocean is the
heartbeat of the world.
but i would never tell you that.
i know how i stain you with
i am just
ariseToday the raindrops taste spicyarise1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
how I've missed them.
I've a bad case of wanderlust
And a silver sonnet skyfever,
and I want to be spinning like a planet in orbit.
The blue winterblush tiptoes onto my cheekbones
and I realize:
fadedWinter's baby breathfaded1 year ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
fogging up the subway glass
a cloud on your heart.
Star ManI once knewStar Man1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
who went to
on a unicycle.
between the stars.
Census of Ghostshe now resides in susurration:Census of Ghosts9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
shaken from our summer sheets,
flags drawn taut and shuddering,
and wispseeds rising into the light
with their dressing gowns unbuttoned,
planting onto my lips that name
i've tried to hang with himself;
on a late morning,
while folding your laundry,
i found him again and held his tongue
when he yearned to speak of love
that once transpired in his passion,
or maybe it was the infatuation
of surrealists: brown skin but touched
upon each other,
marking the insignificant with brands
of remembrance: like the crinkling of
tinfoil or the crisping of smokers' lungs
or the thought that cigarettes are only
romantic if you can witness their glow
or hear them faintly burning—
white ash rests on the dashboard
and his fingers are caked with rust
in my flashbulb drug collections:
the color of blood that's been drying
in my mouth while i try to recall how it felt
to hold someone who might have come
and remained forever breathing
if that letter had never reached my
Nudemilk coats the insides of my lungs.Nude5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
your silence, it heaves in ways
each swell and thrust
of my windpipe. alveoli
punctured, white pelicans fly out
in guise of breath.
i watch blank clouds of condensation
coil and collapse like
steam stills in stopmotion
have no words, no bones
from beneath the skin
in your sleep.
teeth shred the shrouds of my scalp.
each strand curls inward, yanked
out fetal style. your hands,
they sewed white
orchids along my throat,
and i stood still.