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
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.
My Beautiful DisasterBroken boyMy Beautiful Disaster2 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.
Dishwasherafternoon light flickersDishwasher1 year 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
I'm Not Ready to Let GoYour fingertips carve melodies into my songbird skin,I'm Not Ready to Let Go2 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.
I am not RecyclableAs if I were recyclable,I am not Recyclable2 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.
I Dream of WolverinesAn alabaster calla lily blooms out of my belly button,I Dream of Wolverines2 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.
short-term memory.and you'll never forget:short-term memory.2 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.
The Art of ForestryIf it were only appropriate to speakThe Art of Forestry2 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
The Quiet Thoughts of Butterfliesshe says "I'm worried if I breatheThe Quiet Thoughts of Butterflies3 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
either wayshe dances like a raindrop,either way2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
collapses on the ground,
and all of her bones shatter,
made from thin, liquid glass,
her voice ripples on the surface
and it screams
the soft syllables pirouetting on your eardrums
her fingertips tapping
can you hear them?
they are cotton balls
being dropped on the asphalt
can you hear them?
(it's the wind carrying her feet across the air)
and she dances like a raindrop.
you can catch her
and she can shatter in your palms.
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 Cosmos2 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
Fragile Magpie MoonsIt's only spring when you first wake up,Fragile Magpie Moons9 months 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.
What Turns Me Oni. bright cotton candy colors,What Turns Me On2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
so lush and vivid,
I want those pastel pigments
dissolving my taste buds and
brushing over my tongue
like they were made of velvet.
ii. reptilian skin,
those scales so rough
and those alligator teeth
I want those teeth
to take me by the neck,
leaving me with scaling wounds.
iii. blood draws,
being drained of liquid emotion
to come out feeling light headed,
then fucking euphoric
like you're made of stained glass
and the sun is lighting you up
phantom breath igniting your spine,
being cradled in the arms of a shadow,
being grasped by the hands of the wind.
the clavicle indentations
that make me want to scream
because they are so lovely,
unfolding themselves like paper cranes,
angular yet angelic.
vi. a button up shirt being unbuttoned,
the thought of you sliding it off my shoulders
as though it were made up of sins.
ripe for the plucking red,
no artificial sweeteners,
only the blood of an organic berr
Blackbird's FeatherBlackbirdBlackbird's Feather2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
sweeping across the snow
left me a feather
and away he goes
and away he goes
drifting up on the air
but I seem to be stuck here
melting in the cold
cannot rip my eyes from the sky
cannot get my fists to unfold
the words have frozen to our tongues
that's what happens to winter love
so you think this feather is enough to make a wing
so you try to free me from it,
but your claws only sting.
i walk away
come to regret every footfall
but I can't keep you down
because you're up
and I'm frozen to the ground
laying pale in the snow
he can soar no more
you didn't have to do that
have to fall on your own sword
cut your wings apart
to get me back home.
and as I see you freeze
I know now what it is I believe
that someone could give up everything
come down to the winter
do you know the secret, Bird?
learn to live with the cold
though you turn blue
the heart beats hot inside of you
I know it
CascadiaRise like a ghost from bed,Cascadia2 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
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.
If you could see inside my mind, you would hate meMost mornings, I wake up alone. My bed is empty, long enough that the sweet scent of clean hair and warm skin has gone, leaving me with a slowly rotating ceiling fan and the echo of ticking clocks. She is already gone, and I have no where to be but alone. It is winter here, in the state that refuses to die. Winter in Detroit is like a test from God, seeing how much hell you can handle, how much disappointment can you take. Eventually, you learn to swallow that shame with the rest of it. Winter light is a stark painful thing that creeps it's icy fingers through my blinds and bleaches my yellow walls the color of corpses. Every color slowly bleeds out until I can't recognize my self any more.If you could see inside my mind, you would hate me3 years ago in Emotional More Like This
Most mornings, I lay in bed far too long, trying to find the constellations hidden in my ceiling. One day, these constellations will spell out stories and I will know where to go, what to say, how to feel. My feet touch the ground, slowly, testing. The carpet hurts my bare feet but I walk on. A new
catch a falling star, put it in your pocketthere's something about those little brokencatch a falling star, put it in your pocket2 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.
SummerIt is morning.Summer8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Your breath hums through me; I feel it
crashing against each of the hairs on my arm.
Your foot touches mine
in the darkness of bed.
Were I a younger man, I'd rouse you
with a storm of lips, bring you up
from sleep into the daytime.
I'd trickle fingertips across your stomach,
touching your face
until your eyes dawned against mine.
I'd sing to you, hoarse with affection
But I am not a younger man;
I see you at rest, and
I am at rest.
I lie in wait to watch for daylight
to fill you up and bring you to me.
for riley i think i have forgotten how to dreamfor riley1 year 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
Hello, I'm Me- Nice To Meet YouI stand in the rain- until I’m soaked to the bone with the scent of itHello, I'm Me- Nice To Meet You11 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Until my clothes stick to my skin and it’s uncomfortable to peel them off
I crawl out of bed at 2:33 am just to go look at the stars- even if I’m too tired to name them
Even if my hair is still wet from my shower and the tips start to freeze because it’s under 20 degrees F
I walk with my hands grazing the branches of trees- lips turned up the corners
Lips turned up at the corners because I get along with nature better than I do with humans
I give way too much ‘change’ to veterans asking for money- even though I know they may be lying
Even though they may be, but what if they’re not?
I listen to cashiers as they spill their tales of bad days across the scanner- as they scan 10 cans of cat food
As they scan 10 cans of cat food, I smile brightly- one that somehow reaches my eyes- and wish them a better tomorrow
I visit my town’s Radio Shack way too often- the two freq
to Yellow Plumto Yellow Plum (in blueto Yellow Plum3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
afternoon's slit of sun slips
between thick curtains
& woos you to ripeness.
it chooses you
not for flecks of honey-russet
held low in your seam of shadows,
nor your symmetry & swell;
you slink in shade, sink
behind green pear & clementine
& cannot hide
from each spear of light
against these lips
a tea-stain stone
the trashbin floor.
Autumn LoverShe was the November loverAutumn Lover2 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.