on skeletonsthey're all here, buried
in slightly shallow graves to plague me
when i'm just waking
i thought i crushed them inside my
trash-compactor chest, dear, but you know
i've been lingering and they've been rotting
away inside me, just eating,
the greedy little bastards, and you know
it will never stop
this cycle of bones, walking talking skeletons;
and matthew i will tell you that you are the only one
but there are always more--
matthew, you are the only one;
i suffered through your wordless accusations in silence,
dozens of them, and i will suffer through dozens more,
i promise you, before these years are over
but there is a gap between my memories
and there is a gap between the colored version of you
that i look at every day without seeing and the
rusty, rotting statue that comes out at night to throttle me
matthew, it was always ever you but now there are too many skeletons,
and i can hardly tell which ones are real and which ones are not
SupernovaShe only ever wanted a real reason to scream, collecting her tears in jars and hiding them behind Poe and Hemingway; she secretly hoped for an ocean to call her own. She would name it after an aged bird spirit, pain manifested in many a Gods imagebelieving our vast universe formed by the callused hands of artists.Supernova3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"They must have a sick, twisted sense of humor." she said, eyes on the moon.
And I asked her "Who?" curious, because I'd yet to figure her out.
"The Gods; they give dead stars the prettiest of names."
someone's octobermaybe tomorrowsomeone's october5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i will lace my fingers through
my ribcage, or
lay pennies in the hollow of
my throat, just between
(i carved my skeleton
with my bare hands, so
leave a wishbone at my feet
& let it break)
maybe tomorrow i will
on the sidewalk, all skinned knees and
scraped palms, and become
someone else entirely:
i will unfold my eyes
and linger behind them,
warm as winter
on the afterlifethere was a heaven, once,on the afterlife3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
and it was made of grass and
the ground that crawled under it
opened up wider than your mouth and
i saw mountains: i saw
beauty, it was a rough
inverted fountain. i saw
Jesus. he said 'death
is The Promise, and The Promise
never leaves us.' i saw
diamonds, and i saw coals
too it just took a while
to find them. i saw
lucifer. he was sewing
me a nightgown made of
soft liquor slurs. i saw
my brain. it told me
'thanks for the x, not
so much the cocaine.' i saw
my skin strung out to dry
after a long summer rain. i saw
my bones become the frame
of a house beside a lake. i saw
my tongue cradle babies and
tell them, 'the sleep is worth
the wake.' i saw a mirror made
of big blue tears. it said,
'the shit was worth the wait.'
so called virtues.lover has more friends than i do,so called virtues.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
which isn't hard as all those i have are
stretched across oceans and their
power is washed and watered down
chipped at from salt spray
or the winds
and i think for the what i wish
was the first time that this wound
of mine is a curse
it aches and it holds and it
creates mountains and peaks
in body and mind
that i can't soothe
that i can't control.
his manliness is more stable
than my womanhood.
he can eject
or reject or hold oceans within thicker skin
than i have on any part of me.
i break and split
oh god do i bleed.
thrallyou were two parts of the same thing,thrall3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
two stars of the same system:
binary, temporal, constrained.
like a sun courting a planet,
you cycled through your phases,
tethered to her by the strength
of a solar flare,
you are still ultraviolet and pristine,
your cold, clean light—
but the sparkle has left your surface.
you orbit around
an imaginary object,
a placeholder for her gravity.
I wrote this twelve timesI knew a girl onceI wrote this twelve times4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Who had to do everything twice
(everything but me)
Mother EarthMy body is the earth;Mother Earth3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
See how under this bruise
A seed of malcontent sleeps.
See what grows out of each pore
As the pain pours over again.
There is rust in my fingerbeds
That poisons the roots
Of all good that hopes to grow here.
I am the convulsing, revolution
of the convoluted Earth...
I am the tectonic blades that clash
and shout when I curl up and hide.
You will feel me when I tremble,
and fear me when I explode
for under the magmanimous skin
There burns a core of hate
That can't be marred by human hand.
Love StoryI fell in love, once.Love Story4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It was inevitable from the day,
The instant that we met
That we would.
We were inseparable,
Born worlds apart,
Yet like the closest of brothers.
It took a long time for us
To truly find each other,
To solidify what we both already knew.
But, when we did,
It was as if a light had been switched on somewhere.
For the first time in my life,
Everything seemed to make sense.
Everything was perfect,
For a while.
We had each other and as far as we
Were concerned the rest of the world could
Go to hell.
We were in love,
We were together
And we were not going to be
And then he left.
He promised me that he'd come home to me,
That it wouldn't be for long.
He promised me that I'd get to wake up in his arms
And feel the warmth of his skin on mine again,
But I never did.
He left me, lost, alone, broken
In a world where I couldn't function alone.
He was my oxygen supply,
And with him gone,
I was drowning
I was destroyed, after that.
footprints some days you are absent,footprints3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and i sit waiting even if i know, that although
your bike is parked at the usual spot,
you'll be nowhere to be seen.
i never ask where you've been.
maybe you found a place where heartbeats sound
like autumn leaves swirling in the wind.
maybe you just couldn't face me.
and you wear silence like a wedding gown,
soft silk sewn together with a brutal honesty.
there is no going back.
(she threw her regrets off a mountain, memories
carving their way through the cold stone, slowly forming
and now she feels no thirst, only
a longing slowly drowning her.)
in the end, you had to face me.
we sat on a beach, your fingers drawing patterns in the sand,
mine clutched around a seashell.
"we're only a bike ride away from extinction,"
you said, "and you're too slow, always
caught in the invisible ink printed on my eyelids."
i borrowed your silence,
missingyou wrap me up in ocean water-born smoke of the midnight aegean seas, the misty wisps suspiring into my ears as your sweet serenade fingers trail sonata whispers down and around my ribcage. these shoulders of hundred-mile journeys should suffice for the safety of the norway fjords. your fingers trace the trembling arteries down my arm and linger at the mass of veins at my wrist, sweeping sadly over the harsh remnants of selfish black nights.missing3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
some days, i wish you were heartless too.
life is supposed to be good; i wish i could make yours better. december nights are for people together. you are warm but sometimes it's just hard. i push you away, walk to cool corners, and allow myself to hug me instead.
none of it is fair; i know you'd jump canyons just to steady me but i just can't get better for you.
your silk jasper fingers free tangles in my hair and i talk into the air, "why do you bother? it'll only tangle again." the world seems a never-ending circle of showers and powdered
Insecuritiesi could tell you a million talesInsecurities3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
of when i stared into the abyss,
and drowned in the thrashing waves
of my own torturous thoughts,
that the dark crevices of my mind
began dragging me under
a sea of endless insecurities
imprinting on my bones.
you arei want a city ruinedyou are3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
every time you love me.
i want to show how loudly i shake,
enough to break
faults and how it will never be yours,
and bring down skylines
when you aren't here.
there are seven weeks until my blood runs blank,
but it is so full tonight
it could drown a man.
i hope it drowns you,
the way it carries the only beautiful thing about me
my heart, my love.
it's time you pull together
your telephone wires and breathe stars
back into my body-
it was so dark without you.
there was no moon,
just the kind of black
you know could be no emptier.
i am effulgent again
with the ways i've needed to feel,
i am bursting with fire
instead of hurting, i heal,
and i'm still bright enough
to be burning like god speaks.
i myself speak too loud.
it's what happens at night when i let you love me
and my body writhes with glee
over something it has never known.
i'm afraid to wake the neighbours, or the sisters i'm loving as my own.
when i'm embarrassed by myself,
i won't ask you to hold
runi am the oak tree that crumbled into dust after giving my branches to make the paper that could holdrun4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
words that set your soul aflame.
i am a runner. i run my fingers through your hair and the tears run down your cheeks. i run run run.
bring me to the forest and watch me burn away with the leaves, let me fall to my knees and rest with
the bones of deer. i am a creature of this wood, a wild and untameable beast.
the remains of nights spent awake and breathing collect on my shoulders and around my eyes, sagging
both, bruising both. look at me; i am a compilation of wrongs and sad songs, the mixtape of a lost
boy speeding down the highway. this is the dead feeling i am searching for, the place that is right
in front of me but i can never seem to get to. so i run.
i am looking for home in all the wrong places. i follow daniel through the dark, his wolves always at
my back. look at me, and look at everything i can burn with just a word.
checklist of a masochistiiichecklist of a masochist2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you were an untouched sunset,
never before seen and familiar
at the same time; delicately shedding
shades of pink the same color
of your starving voice
and I was most beautiful
with my clothes off, too much skin
intersected by too many lines (never
the near parallel you longed for)
a hazy blur that made the nights
our own watercolor cliche
you were that cheap love song
that never sounded authentic,
lyrics stitched through your
paper skin; chords resonating
from your every wanting sigh
and you were surprised how much
you needed me, from the concrete solidity
of my ribs to the metaphoric indecency
of my thoughts, naked and trembling
for your callused ears (or maybe
it was just me, justifying the way
you skinned my anxious layers
with your ravenous hands,
like underfed beasts)
you were the child crying
at shadows pretending to be monsters,
running from the prospect of
god and death and gravity;
& you were the letter I never sent
"I'm done apologizing for
the person I wasn't befor
underneath skin.you've got me trying to pry my bones apart and tear you out from underneath my skin.underneath skin.3 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
i was wandering through the paint store, and i found a colour that was exactly the colour
of you. i grabbed a fistful and walked out and sat in my car ripping them all into
the tiniest shreds i could.
one of the shreds cut my finger, and i didn't feel anything until it started to leak
red over my skirt. it mixed with tears and i just sat there. fuck, i must've looked pathetic,
bleeding and sobbing and covered in a pile of torn up paint samples.
projected profitsi keep picturing us in fifteen years, but it's more like ten. we're sleeping and the quiet sun gently pushes on our eyelids. we turn softly in the mounds of white cloth covering our bed, one or both of us making those slight moans of vague consciousness completely against our wills.projected profits3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
we live in a house, or maybe a flat. it might be in europe, in one of the countries you visited when we found our ways back to one another. the buildings are smooth and white, but the garden is not lacking for colour. the greens are denser than water, the sky more saturated blue than our swimsuits, hanging off the lip of the small balcony.
maybe it's switzerland, or germany. neither of us speak the native language, but with signals and human understanding, we make our ways through.
in the mornings we both reach for our car keys. mine are on the table, yours are on the hook by the door. there is always coffee in the early
paper boats.dear sunrise, today I wrote you a poem about butterflies and hearts trapped in glass jars, but I ripped it up. today I cried three bucket- fills and held hands with someone I dont love.paper boats.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
dear porcupine, today I left you a bowl of milk and a friend, but I brought it back inside when you never showed up. today I got new keys to my door and lost them again.
dear raindrop, today you split apart my head and all my thoughts came out, and now everyone understands. today you took away my dignity and today I died. (on the inside.)
swans were my favourite animals before
and love was my favourite feeling.
they were graceful, and beautiful and if reincarnation
were on my side shed choose one of them for me.
we went to parks and fed swans because
you said you liked to watch me smile and
throw bread crumbs like there was nothing
in the world to worry about.
(I did it because I liked to watch you smile.)
i used to go alone when you were out and
I would sit at the pond and cry
apart.and I was sitting in the gutterapart.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
after trying for the fourth night in a row
to drown you along with
all my other ghosts
and the church
was across the street
cross lit up high in the sky
and it felt
like the complete
opposite of salvation.
it was 4am
and with the neon blue
shining in my eye line
i realised i was alone
i was utterly alone
in the saddest way possible.
on how I need youtoday is a six-word story:on how I need you2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I’m tired of waking up
I will peel back your
every insecurity and anxiety
and watch them fall to the floor
like vodka petals, regurgitated mosaics,
I will see you naked and
reborn and you will break apart
into passive aggressive poetic
dedications and unsent letters and
I will hate and love you
for the very same reasons and
I will move on.
Leonard.his graveyard skin reflects the darkness as heLeonard.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
sighs his winter breath into my hair. I found him
in a forest of lonely one day, where we would
both hide between conversations. I tried to be
summer, with a pattern of sunray on my skin
and ice cream eyes and warm evening bonfires on
my lips. he was winter, with limbs like frozen
branches and melancholy breath.
we would entangle our bones and together hide alone in
our forest of lonely. I'd seek his cool when passers-by
threw their cigarettes at me and my dry summer skin
caught fire, and he'd seek my warmth when the frost got
the best of him and his branches started to break.
I'd cringe at the snow falling from his eyes and he'd
sigh at the sun coming up in mine, but we'd close them
and hide ourselves in the crook of each others neck.
zeroi sworezero3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i would never number the poems
i wrote about myself because that
would be like ticking off the days
until my breakdown;
i was a moth, unapologetically throwing myself
at any gleam of hope; wasting my wings
on industrial promises
colors always felt much more
appropriate for the purple boiling
beneath my heart and the pallid
purposelessness of my head,
but i was born into a colorless world--
no one sees me behind the metallic scars
of my skin and iron grating of my voice against
the grain; no one sees me as more than
gray regret or monochrome mistakes,
no one sees me but
all i ever wanted was for a
fallen god with feathered heels
to believe in me: to pray upon
the monuments i built for
broken dreams and to baptize me
in his tainted tears,
i just want him to be real. more
than anything, i want to be real, i want
to be more than an imaginary friend
to various mental limitations; i want
to trade my liquid skin [evaporating]
for a chance to be
i am a moth and you are the lighthouse
Escaping Narcissusii.Escaping Narcissus2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
there are no explanations, none worthy
of your contortionist spine and
sky-hungry hands, no sorrow;
this is the happy song for the happy people:
raise your paper heart to the heavens
[I wish god would take pity on me
and flood the abomination right out of my
skin, drown the impure, start new
with a dove that doesn’t know
in my head,
I’ve already left you a thousand times over.
sometimes, I wander through the streets and
idolize the living like a curious phantom
with a nonexistent pulse; sometimes, I run
desperate to the woods that seem
to breathe and mourn, where the trees
resemble bodies of people weaker than me,
and sometimes, I fly away because it turns out
the needles nestling beneath my skin
were feathers, waiting to cry out, and
I watch as your shadow dissolves
into the unsympathetic
but every time,
I come back, crawl into our weary bedsheets,
and number off your breaths until I fall
AndyI met him behind my eyelashes in a fog of dripping sweatAndy3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
while we were both bobbing our heads to sounds that tore
patterns in the air.
I bit my lip and smiled like a porno while I pushed my drenched
pride out of my eyes. He nodded in a British accent and
disappeared into a sea of sound.
I sat down beside him in the cold midnight air and we
wrapped ourselves in layers. Discussing things that did not matter
in a way that did; throwing sideway glances at each other's lips.