CrispTell me you love me
the way you love the sky when it rains.
Would that be a lie?
Then move on, move away,
let my clouds thunder
and my blood pour,
I am sick of this weather
but I'm even more sick of you;
diseased with a molding horizon
dancing along my hips,
I am ready for winter
so let it snow, bitch.
And sometimes that's all there isOnce there was a young girl who believed in three things: breathing, dying, and true love. Three basic things, that shouldn't be too difficult. What she didn't realize was that they are all intertwined. We breathe to escape death, while we also breathe to die. Then true love gives us breath, but true love lost causes us to die even slower and painfully so. No, she did not know it then but she most certainly does now; for she has breathed and loved and died all at once and then altogether. Inhaling only to exhale, breathing only to love, and loving only to die.And sometimes that's all there is2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Love slipped through my handsWhen the stars collapsed--Love slipped through my hands3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Chilled, your smile
w a r m e d
CosmologyShe left galaxies on his pillowcaseCosmology2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
where she slept the night before
of make up colors,
smudged and smeared,
blurred by silent tears
the stars leaked out with the saline
along with the residue of dreams
that she never meant to have.
Chips of polish decorate his bed sheets,
from her chewed and broken nails,
after scratching at the too-low ceiling
and his too-close back
while she slept fitfully,
searching desperately for space.
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.
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.
FireShe rules the heart as certainly as she rules her art,Fire3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
measuring and proportioning everything
into the image of perfection. Her hands draw
and quarter the contours of any shape
she can touch with her fingers, a talent
men gladly pay to see--at which point
she pins her eyes on their features,
ready to make everything they offer
into another piece for her portfolio.
She infuses plasma into all their veins,
burning them all inside out and setting
their fiery forms into clay casts
to make the metal statues with which
she decks her atelier. I'm telling you this
because it doesn't matter
whether she looks hot or cool; if they're dry
both fire and ice burn.
you lied the night you kissed me.there is a thick exhaustion in the pit of my stomach, spreading to my shouldersyou lied the night you kissed me.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
till they hang and to my knees until they buckle. and I will sleep for days on end,
and when I wake up I didn't really.
I hate you dear, I hate you so.
because there is so much to do, I could travel to the other side of the country and
paint a portrait of a stranger and I could sit on top of someone's roof and look at the
stars with a boy I don't want to know and I could fall asleep in his bed and listen to
him playing guitar without clothes and he'd take me out for diner and anywhere I'd
want to go and we'd have sex in his car and on the trampoline in my back yard and
we'd eat at my grandparents with Christmas and it would never be enough because
he's everything you weren't.
I think I lost myself, I think I fell out that time you ran away holding onto me and my
skin tore. I looked for her in that empty hole in your chest cavity, but all I found was
lost so long ago, and you wouldn't show me where it went b
I let the water take controlIt's been awhile since I've been underwater,I let the water take control2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
so I drew myself a bath
and let the water rush itself into the tub
like blood to the brain,
as it pooled into the fiberglass basin
I felt the tides start to rise
while the pond I created began to
encase every limb,
my lips brushed against the water
in a liquidated kiss
and my blonde locks melted into the sea
as if my name were Medusa and
my strands of hair were snakes,
but my body dissolved into what it used to be,
I became the water and the water became me.
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
i want you because i shouldn't want you at alli want you like i want succulent strawberries dripping over a white lacy dress,i want you because i shouldn't want you at all2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i want you like i want complete silence on a sweltering august night,
i want you like it's dead rats melting over hot gutters and then it's your hot guts on my body.
i want you and your collarbones tied to my strings of saliva,
i want you smelling like you're some wild wolverine with incisors as sharp as rose petals,
i want you broken and bleeding just so i can nourish your wounds.
i want you dangerously close and always so,
i want you angry as you are passionate,
i want you in ways i don't even understand.
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
And I will Always be the MoonWe have gotten so attached to these days and these months,And I will Always be the Moon2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
but a deer doesn't know a Tuesday from a Thursday
and a caribou can't comprehend that it was born on a September afternoon,
but they can understand this instant, this moment, this breath,
only now, no longer the past, and only the future when they get there,
there's a healthy lack of awareness in that,
escaping the fear of death but thriving off the instinct to live,
everything so primal and based off gut reactions,
I guess you could say ignorance is bliss,
but ignorance only actually applies when it comes to humanity,
oh I would like a life like that,
one that is organic, tangible, and ripe with bloody berries,
one where carnal creatures run rampant,
one where we rise from the dirt with muddy thighs
because we were bred into these earthly bodies
to hold seconds in our palms like newborn children,
and to throw our heads back and howl against the awareness that we are dying,
for oh this skin is only our host,
She's ElegantShe's elegant,She's Elegant2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
She looks at you
And smiles seductively.
She beckons for you
With one bent finger.
She grabs you by your tie,
She knows that you
Cannot resist her.
I look at you,
Then look away.
I want to go to you,
And be like her.
But that's not me,
That's not who I am.
I know that you
Cannot resist her.
And I'm just me,
Plan and ordinary,
Anything but extraordinary.
You don't even notice.
Dear GirlIf one wish you have, could define you,Dear Girl2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And if that wish, was one pure thing in your life,
And if you waited for that wish for years,
And it didn't get fulfilled,
Would you feel it when you met it one day?
Tick, TockTo be honest, from the first day we met I knew you were going to be important to me. I don't usually get struck by people the way you struck me. Now it's more like the way you make me tick and I'm sitting here wondering if you even look at the clock. Tick, tock, tick, tock. That's the sound of seconds thrumming by alongside my heartbeats. I can't help but think that I might love you and how ridiculous a thought to have. How am I supposed to know this when I don't even trust myself? I'm second-guessing, under-estimating, and over-thinking. I just get lost in the way your touch takes control, causing me to lose any capacity to think, at least rationally. It's like the whole world vanishes and I'm sinking into your skin like sand. You take me away from anything real and that thrills me because I'm foolish and it scares me because it does. My common sense has dissapeared in your arms and my worry in your smile. That's why it pains me to be this patient and I don't know if it will ever be wTick, Tock2 years ago in Emotional More Like This
FailureSometimes the world doesn't work,Failure3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Not the way you want it to.
But it's still working,
Working for someone else.
Everyone eventually gets their chance
To hire the world.
All anybody wants is
That intangible and ethereal moment.
But sometimes the world doesn't work,
Not the way you want it to.
But don't worry,
Please don't fret.
Everyone eventually gets their chance
To hire the world.
Just once would I like that.
That intangible and ethereal moment...
Pausing By The WineMarriage isPausing By The Wine2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the frustration of reality
when the man who works the wine section
pauses in his tracks to make sure
you've found everything you "really need...are you sure?"
With a look that tells you
he finds you sort of beautiful
and you wonder how your life
might be different,
if any man other than this one
had ever looked at you like that.
The ElementsI.The Elements2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Wine as red as stained glass
is lifted up & tilted back
touch wood like thunder
having given up grace
thread across wrists & palms
spent vessels returning to the heart
Fingertips suffused with pulse
lift to lightning's loveliness
6:30:09what i wouldn't give6:30:092 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to have my body sink down
into yours, cocooned
in the tumultuous quicksand
of human flesh.
i have never been so moved
as by your touch, the slinking seeping
brush. the universe dispels
and in the absence of everything,
i am less alone
than i have ever been.
a poem on the inner workings of my chaotic mindit isn't like i'ma poem on the inner workings of my chaotic mind6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
lazy or anything it's just that
the thought of getting lost
in a crowd of ten or more people
makes me want to puke.
this is not just some
stupid little hang-up that you can
joke about when i'm
digging my fingernails into my palm so
hard that blood is drawn as we walk through
school hallways so packed that it feels
like we're suffocating from too much
oxygen but i just grit my teeth and
laugh "yeah, i know, i just don't like
being around people sometimes."
but you know,
there's just something about the way
my mother says "go out and have a life
and stop looking like the world
betrays you every day"
that makes my stomach drop
or when my dad looks at me and just
sighs, like they've finally realized
i was never good enough to be
and to everyone who believes that
i just need to relax,
to just calm down and think:
fuck you. fuck you for trying to pretend
like you know how it feels when my
bones grind together like broken
gears as i walk by people who may
It is the DarknessIt is the darkness that cumulates, coils and collectsIt is the Darkness2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
At the edge of the visible light; a haven in the night,
Never quite visible, always tangible. Always pulling
On the fraying edges of the mind’s tapestry that one day,
As all things must, will unravel, unwind, and remain unfinished.
It is death’s running chase that reveals ones innermost self.
There is the rain and the moon and the dark stormy clouds
And these are evocative of their master. They’re the painter’s stroke,
The craftsman’s signature style, and above all else,
They are the Roman’s requiem, solemn and persistent,
Fashioning a loose, straightforward arrangement of ominous drums,
Strong and defiant, yet quavering uncertainly in the face of painful realisations.
Death’s touch is surely the softest. They say love is a flower,
Soft and delicate, beautifully rare. But Death, Death is all these things,
Calling you softly “come in from the cold”, enfolding you gently i
PluckingPluckingPlucking2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The table between us is a moon.
But the air is heavy. It lies
on us, muffled heat stilling
our breaths. You drop your fork,
but I still won't look at you. Even angels
would crawl if they were here.
"Why can't we be friends?"
I am thinking of a Flemish tapestry
I once saw in a white stone house,
walls dense and prickly with roses:
a line of stiff scarlet soldiers,
a rearing horse. The soldiers' thick fingers
grope at the blank cream cloth,
seeking purchase, gravity.
"What are you feeling?"
"I want to be a Flemish soldier,"
I tell you. Only my fingers
would constantly pluck at the expanse,
searching for the thread
that will unravel everything.
FallingFallingFalling2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The body is weightless,
bones hollow as flutes.
They sing startled crescendos
beneath the world distant and harmless for once,
a map of what was.
"Here lie monsters," they warned.
Here lie creatures luminous, grotesque, incandescent
beyond anything you might know.
The Way The World WorksSelling yourself just to figure out who you areThe Way The World Works2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You're lost between the pictures of paintings,
And none of them are real; nothing's real here except for the number of breaths you take
Nothing is real except the knobs of your spine, or the hollows in your hipbones.
You're pushing yourself on an empty tank, but there's nothing to fill you with
Nothing to curb the unquenchable desire of being whole
But you only know empty, you only have ever known empty
Like the sound the wind makes as it passes through the leaves
Or the way the young mother's pocket doesn't jingle when her child tugs on it
You don't know if being empty is a bad thing
But empty is all that you know
So you walk across the bones of the owls and you count their vertebrae
And you're walking so lightly that you're almost floating, you might be floating
And nothing is going to be the same because this minute is different from the last
The cyanide drips off of your lips and you kissed me, I know you kissed me,
You can't take it