as we become ghostsThe air is smooth and thin,
running over my shoulders like buttermilk,
curling wax fingers
and smoke escaping my oak tree bones,
I don't know where I'll end up yet but
I know I'm close,
and I know I'm close because I'm still breathing,
inhaling that charred floral scent
where dahlias are breeding in the curves of my collarbone
and lilacs are blooming between each vertebrae,
intertwining with every rib, climbing them like strands of DNA,
oh you know I wouldn't mind if you used my ribs for a ladder,
go ahead and use me up like some sort of construction worker,
for my body is yours to take, my heart to break,
but I should let you know now that this love is a disease,
it will leave you in ruins with teeth like Aztec tombs rotting inside your mouth,
and it will leave your hands forming empty circles in the sky where the stars should be,
but all of this is okay because when we're together I can see the moon in your eyes
and the sun in your lips,
when they dare form a smile, your kiss
I'm Not Ready to Let GoYour fingertips carve melodies into my songbird skin,I'm Not Ready to Let Go3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
carbonizing my charcoal bones
so I can write sonnets on the sidewalk
with the ends of my chalky joints.
Oh how your grazing hands
Your propane eyes
burn me up,
your toothy smile
ties me down.
I hold my breath
because these moments are fragile
as they are finite,
and I close my eyes
because love shouldn't be this ugly
or this hard to find.
The Art of ForestryIf it were only appropriate to speakThe Art of Forestry3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
of a single touch, of what it means,
of what it feels.
Our forearms graze and so I hold very still,
I never want to lose a second of
you against me.
My entire being shivers along the
shores of your skin
and all of my nerve endings are electrified
when I imagine our relationship evolving into
lilac limbs, freshly kissed lips, and
lieing next to you on rainforest floors.
We create a completely nuclear reaction,
a mixture of fusion, friction, and fascination.
So believe me when I say, oh boy I love you,
I really do,
yes, I want you so,
closer than tires upon pavement,
and like a car you turn into me,
and like a car you take me places,
you even take my daydreams to extraordinary realms
where I wake in the midst of the woods,
the air is slick and crisp
and I can feel your muddy, autumn hands
dancing along my flaking, fir tree flesh,
the dirt runs damp between our toes
and we become nothing but creatures of the forest;
living off each other's lo
A Piece Of YouI touch the strings of my guitar,A Piece Of You3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And they spiral inward,
Everything I touch seems to fall part.
Falling into darkness,
A depressive state,
This was my fate.
We started as perfect strangers,
Boys meets girl,
Or Girl meets boy.
A perfect sensation,
You drove me into fixation.
A goddess of a sort,
I guess that's what you were to me.
Yeah, I guess that's what you were to me.
That friend of yours,
He takes a sip of tea then whispers in your ear,
You smile and you whisper in his,
Singing a melody,
Sweet, like the summer days past,
You look at me, I look to you,
A cold stare, hasn't winter passed?
My heart shakes, until it breaks,
I put on a smile that looks fake,
And I put out my hand,
Reaching out to grab a piece of you,
You, a piece of history,
You, with a sweet melody,
I sleep breathlessly,
I turn blue; I'm holding my breath for you.
My mind in a maze,
I can't put together those days.
I pass you by, without a thing to say.
We're still young, and it's silly to be thinking like this.
helium balloon lungsi. You write me notes scribbled on sandpaperhelium balloon lungs3 years 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.
My Beautiful DisasterBroken boyMy Beautiful Disaster3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
with your coffee
I should have been
forewarned to stay away
but your lips
curved in a cynical smile
and your eyes
saw the bitterness of the world,
I longed for your artist's fingers
to give me a caress,
I see you smoking in bed
among twisted sheets
while we for a moment
forget the pain of the world,
but in the end we are
destined to destroy each other,
it was never love
that drew us together
but the beauty of your mind
and the languid litheness of your body,
the cracks in your heart,
and despair in your soul,
but I was never the one
to give you what you require,
you are an ideal
I desired to posses,
and I was there when you were lost
so I became your latest form
while you made me forget the void
yet never could satisfy its emptiness,
we took each other to oblivion
only pretending to be saved.
the art of making loveyou and i make lovethe art of making love3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
without ever taking our clothes off:
through the cheesy poems we write for
each other, through all the sidelong
glances across the dinner table. your
palm pressed into the small of my back,
or when i have to reach up on my toes
(or sometimes, jump) just to place my
arms around your neck. when we nuzzle
our noses like inuits in the cold and
talk about growing old together. when
you start to fret when we aren't
holding hands, when i see your face
in a mirror and smile and suddenly
feel beautiful. all the gentle kisses,
laughing until my ribs might crack,
holding back tears when it's been too
long since i've seen you.
this is how we make love.
I am not RecyclableAs if I were recyclable,I am not Recyclable3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
your eyes break me down,
your gaze melts my aluminum limbs
and disintegrates my paper bones,
my heart leaps from the flames
and rides along the surface of your tongue,
because if you only knew how much I love you,
your taste buds would be burning for my blood,
if you only knew,
but you don't,
and I sure as hell can't tell you,
because you would use me
only to then throw me away.
literally, a quesadilla more than you willliterally, a quesadilla2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you smell like
new car, shirt stuck
to skin. laughing:
I wonder what
would happen if we
fucked right here,
just confidently lacing
the space between
planets with electric
Dishwasherafternoon light flickersDishwasher2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
through the curtains
like a moth
her fingers brush
the lined edge
of a plate
as the sink fills
the sound of paper, displaced
shifts behind her
the careful steps
the cat takes
across the table
outside the roses
trace their shadows
across the lawn
catch a falling star, put it in your pocketthere's something about those little brokencatch a falling star, put it in your pocket3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
dreamer girls with misproportionate promises
and lingering whispers,
who walk like angels, lost, and trying
to find a way back home;
whose hearts bleed abnormally loud
and resonant- those girls with
shadows like ghosts [dead and haunting],
that make them a flavor
to taint your tongue.
if you listen close, you can hear the
unraveling words that once knit the hollow space
between their bones,
you can hear their shallow sighs like
sun sets for a final time.
you can hear their ticking time bomb lungs
and you can touch their secrets, because they
wear them on their skin. not like wounds,
more like sun kisses or wispy tattoos
ingrained into who they are; you won't know
what they mean until you connect the dots
and find answers in their questioning stares.
they'd like to remain something unknown, because
they've identified the world as a disease- vile and
insidious, with the capability of sinking
underneath your flesh and changing who you are.
lovea writer of poetrylove3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
is like a young mother
she has survived the
messy process and
rests happy and
loathe to lay this new one down, even
swaddled in adjectives,
contented or wailing
she will not sleep
she watches the rise and fall,
the slow-breath blinking
wonders if this
piece of beauty
is old enough to love her
short-term memory.and you'll never forget:short-term memory.3 years ago in Emotional More Like This
When you realized that everybody dies alone.
When you didn't take your eyeliner off one night, so in the morning
your eyes would look as hollow as you felt.
When you spent a year blacking out the sad endings in your books.
(When you wished that life could also work like that.)
When you learnt that "We need a break" means "I am going to break your heart."
When you fell in love with the stars, and the way he says "us."
When he told you, "More than just a long time."
The first time you hung up to the sound of your father laughing.
When you walked home from a party in January, and couldn't remember
if you were still breathing.
When you begged him to let you be sad, and he smiled and said, "No."
When you saw the irony of drawing trees on paper – and how alive you've felt
after being sure you were dead.
Fragile Magpie MoonsIt's only spring when you first wake up,Fragile Magpie Moons1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
two magpies and the dull ache of menstrual cramps
tapping on. Death's window
sleeps in all our bones,
a dripping water faucet.
Brittle things--like love,
a jar of not-quite-nothing--
small and fragile and ours
are the presences we carry
while running from the moon.
Lightning Bug CosmosI lace my skin up like a corset, peel back the blinds on my eyelids, and take a step forward, waking from the poppies to theLightning Bug Cosmos3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
lightning bug glow of truth tapping on my eardrums.
In front of the mirror I stand, but what I notice is not the awkward crook of my nose or butterfly lashes. I look into the lighted mirror as if searching for answers hidden under
Ribbon-like sets of
veins, arteries and nerves.
Sometimes it all flows correctly; sometimes everything becomes
knotted up in all the wrong places. Skin toughened by beatings brought about by the
I Dream of WolverinesAn alabaster calla lily blooms out of my belly button,I Dream of Wolverines3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I pull on its vines to remove its roots,
but I only end up more tightly wound
in ribbons of green and of sorrow,
and now I'm sleeping more than I wake,
because I dream of wolverines, long dresses,
and old buildings collapsing like old people,
I can't look away nor can I open my nighttime eyes,
I live in a world of hedonistic passion,
one where we consume salamander hearts
just as much as we consume each other.
Sometimes You Don't Have to Change the WorldAres is not what I imagined her to be. The great man of myth, muscular and imposing, shining in his armour, with crested helmet and mighty spear, does not stand before me. Instead I face a young woman, hardly more than a girl. She is soft and delicate, with eyes so large they will soak up the world, and skin like spun glass, that glitters in the darkness. A warm glow radiates from within her, not quite visible, but strong enough for me to feel the heat on my face.Sometimes You Don't Have to Change the World11 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
The sound of traffic wafts up to us from the street far below. Heavy clouds block out the night sky, reflecting back the poisonous orange of streetlamps and office blocks. The rooftop is high above it all, and we are invisible. That’s why I chose it, to be alone. The last thing I expected was a visitor, proclaiming to be a god.
“Ares?” I scoff, looking her over with something I imagine to be petulance. If not for the fact that she was so decidedly un-human, and that she had materialised on the rooftop with n
SolsticeOnce upon a time, when you were still sunlighthouses and shimmering existence wherever you were needed most, you found him. He was November, shaky on his first last legs, and you saw through the mind-twistings he feigned to the mind-twistings that were really there, knotted up in his dreams.Solstice4 years ago in Scraps More Like This
You were still birdsong then, and thunderstorms, and your bodyheat melted the frost claws that held him tight. You held onto him as his November deepened. When he howled, you howled with him, and the wind played with your voices and pressed the softness of your lungs against your cageribsand then against each other's.
November became solstice, and you felt him shiver through that long night and didn't mind the coldbitten nails that grazed your skin. He slept when the moon drowned below the treeline, but the iceflakes began to drift in like small animals seeking the pulsing riverheat of your blood, and chilling you. He lay there, vulnerable as his world turned slowly towards the light, and you
Autumn LoverShe was the November loverAutumn Lover3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
but Autumn was always the season
of the dying, and she found only
coldness was left to greet her now.
No more flowers were in bloom,
while the flame within her heart
began to fade she fell, it seemed endlessly
among the fire colored leaves.
While the trees appeared in shades
of crimson just like her dreams,
the world spun as she closed her eyes,
bitter the early frost upon her breath.
It may be the last exhale she ever breathed,
while the color dissipates from her waning cheeks,
only those bone chilling biting winds
are left to touch upon her flesh in subtle mockery.
She died for love on the cusp
of the season which whispered of decay
but her grave would lie beneath a shroud
of natures beauty, beneath the gloomy skies,
as melancholy of the last beating of her heart
she was covered in all the shades of the sun.
To my sisterLike a sister I do love youTo my sister3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The sister who never was mine
Older sister I look up to
My younger sister fair and fine
And you're more than a friend to me
My twin sister with diff'rent blood
We're seperated by the sea
But to you my heart does still spud
Sometimes I curse all of the miles
You and me thousands do divide
I want to witness all your smiles
Those which are born from deep inside
I cannot hold you when you cry
And I really wish that I could
Still a dreamer's mind does fly
And it'll be with you for good
And it brought this few lines to you
Written from deep within the heart
And each single word here is true
A wish from somewhere far apart
To my sister so far away:
I wish you a happy birthday
for riley i think i have forgotten how to dreamfor riley2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
for the last time it happened
i smiled and ran my palms through your hair
sifting out sand and fumbling at the
buried shards of sea glass
that bite at my calloused fingers.
your frothy eyes threaten to drown me
but instead i inhale dopamine and
carefully trace the thin boardwalks
that wrap around your skull
where the hair is missing.
you ask me if i cried
and i said that i
didn’t think i knew
once when i was young
i saw a baby cardinal
huddled and bleeding in the grass.
i watched the ants and the flies skim over the contours
of its closed eyelids
until i scooped it up and held
Sonnet XXIIBut give me leave to love in silence thatSonnet XXII2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
which I cannot possess— and give me such
inspired defiance of the urges at
my breast— and give me strength to never touch
my lips to hers, my soul to her soul— give
me heart and hale to weather every storm
that may unfold: But tell me how to live
without my hand in hers, its honest form—
and tell me how to wake each morn if not
to wake within her arms— and tell me how
I am to carry on, and how I ought
to act and speak and be, around her, now,
and ever: tell me, and I'll on my way
as still and quiet as the passing day.
CascadiaRise like a ghost from bed,Cascadia3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
feel the hiss of cold water
into a porcelain mug,
take a sip and press my forehead
to the icy windowpane.
My sister settles in the other room.
She slips, inch by inch,
in, over, through, off
to the sound of
- the melancholy kind of stuff.
The stuff that makes artists burn.
I fall into an armchair
draw my pale, frigid feet up
with pen and paper
from under the muted telephone,
and attempt to catch the merit of
frightful, imaginary things.
Sleeping, at this point,
at the zenith,
is like catching
the darting shadow-lines
of car headlights
flooding the curtained room
with light and starkness.
It is like feeling a fever coming on,
and shivering, shaking cold.
Like laying as the poetry floods
swallowing as you allow it to
between the two strangers, from the two hemispheres of your mind
like sandpaper on wood
and the flakes it leaves behind.
I think about the man.
The one I saw two rooms over,
the only other person r
The Quiet Thoughts of Butterfliesshe says "I'm worried if I breatheThe Quiet Thoughts of Butterflies4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
too loud the silence will
I watch her hands press butterfly
wings between the pages.
does she know that
I'm the queen of silence?
my corpse lungs and
graveyard lips; a decomposing
tongue lurking behind white-washed
tombstones. paint me with sunbeams,
I'm still the same.
[death warmed over]
her tropic gaze rakes over
the bone-white snow. "I keep
swallowing the snow-flakes. they
remind me of frozen flowers.
their dead sweetn