belongbring me freud, jung, piaget, neitzsche, dostoevsky -
i want to understand
this troubled heart.
mine? perhaps, not - i didn't ask it, it didn't say;
the mind, too, is duly uncertain;
tethered to the heart, but not, perhaps, kept by it:
existence is not conclusive proof of anything proprietary.
maybe it belongs to no one.
i belong to no one.
Confession OneRecently I've been wishingConfession One6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I could explain the
love you and
I Love You
Confession ThreeOne day I'm going to sit downConfession Three6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and learn that my bones
are made of calcium
not candy canes,
that smoking isn't poetic
and that bitten nails
aren't a sign of intelligence.
Strawberries, A guitar and YouYesterday I hung upside downStrawberries, A guitar and You7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
by my knees in a pine tree.
And as I clung to the
curve of the branch.
I remembered the
curves of your hips.
I remember the day
I realised your hips
weren't curved any more.
They were pointed bone.
You played my old guitar
in the summer.
with out removing the stem.
I painted in the
Orbiti think that if we were planets,Orbit3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
we would orbit in parallel -
side by side, but never quite touching.
we're both of us broken,
we don't "get" affection.
outward displays of love and happiness
are too much: just beyond our
limited scopes of capability.
we're kindred spirits, but
broken souls are no good to anyone -
not even each other.
even phantoms, my lovemy love, there are things you should know about me:even phantoms, my love2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
instead of ribs, there is a birdcage in my chest
& locked inside is a sparrow that flutters its wings
against the bars every time you come around.
my blood is pumped by a metronome that
whispers your name with every practiced beat.
you told me that you like catching fireflies
so i trapped my soul in a mason jar for you
& i hope that you will keep it for years to come,
place it on a shelf where you can take it down
once in a while and blow the dust off the top
like a bottle of wine that you'll never open.
i wrote my love for you inside of a prayer
& the words knitted together to create bones
so i built myself on them one hallelujah at a time.
you described your eyes as the color of the sea
so i anchored myself in their blue-grey depths
and left my castle abandoned on the shore.
i am not a person anymore:
no, i am a collection of objects and ideas
that i have taken from you and used to
build myself into something comprehensible.
la musica dulceheartbeats are psycho-la musica dulce4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
the ocean has swallowed
hay una guitarra bajo
mi almohada, y
sueño de música cuando
you came here with
city smoke in your lungs,
forgot to breathe.
you and ionce a chubby man with a moustache andyou and i3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a wifebeater told me i looked like elisabeth taylor.
and then i threw up on his shoes and
he told me he'd changed his mind.
another man once told me "let's get together" but
he didn't tell me that together did not mean always.
i did not throw up on his shoes, but
i did trash his cherry red '69 corvette stingray.
later, a beautiful man with an Irish tongue and
súile neamhfhírinneach asked me to be his forever.
so being the fool i was played for, i said that i would,
only to realize he had not made the same promise.
this is not a story about any of these men.
or rather, it is, but not entirely, because
this is a story about many men and
it is also a story about you and i.
except that there is no 'you and i', there is only 'you' and 'i'
but i'm strangely okay with that because
i don't want to be i, i want to be I, and
i want you to be You, and not Them
and only then will our story have a happy ending.
dear mommadear momma,dear momma3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
do you remember the night I got so drunk and stoned
that I spent an hour just clutching the sides of the
trash can for dear life and whimpering for you to help me?
& you were so far gone yourself that all you could do was
watch me while you lit the bowl and took another hit.
that was how I felt the day you left my father
and I followed you out the road crying your name,
begging you to take me with you, not understanding.
& that was how I felt when I told you that I needed you
and you said "I know" and then just let it go at that.
monster"i feel like a monster" -monster4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
whispered secrets to a plastic Jesus;
pray for swift, holy justice.
no - Fate smiles. too easy.
swallow it down, let it
burn deep inside,
i tasted the fever on your lips
and it was metallic
burning quicksilver in your veins,
dripping off your tongue.
waited for it to consume you
like the monster
that it is.
"we're all monsters inside" -
broken revelations in the darkness;
the daylight was too bright
to see our sins by.
i drew the fire out with each kiss
and blew away the smoke:
guilt is like a glass hammer
beating against stone.
only you can prevent forest firesi wake on the edge of morningonly you can prevent forest fires1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
under frost-covered pines:
my fingertips are bitten, but
my lips are unkissed;
i bend to the earth
i lie on the devil's backbone
in the scarred ridges of his
fire-scorched spine -
the elements are unkind
to my limbs
and my heart:
i caught pneumonia and love
in the same breath.
almost, but not quite.to the boy with ghost hands:almost, but not quite.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
his hands are not like yours,
your teeth leave different scars.
love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs;
it only lasts a little while
where I end and you begin.
maybe you never belonged to me.
this will be the last piece I ever write about you.
to the boy with the butterfly tattoo:
you found love
in the bathroom sink,
borrowing the past
thinnerwhy are white womenthinner3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
stick thin in magazines
and on television,
where everyone can see?
i wish that i was a black woman
because even fat black women
are graceful and confident,
and if i was so thin
so skinny-thinny that my
collarbones were like wire hangers
and my ribs a xylophone
it would never be enough --
i would want to be
until i was
just ash and bone.
happily ever afterall the good fairy tales startedhappily ever after2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
with once upon a time in a
far away land. so i looked on
a globe to see where far away
was, and started digging a hole
to see if i could reach it.
i dug a grave instead and laid
myself to rest, and there i
lived, happily ever after.
(the hole is still bleeding
because my heart
won't stop beating.)
monsoon seasonthe hotel rooms we hauntmonsoon season1 month ago in Free Verse More Like This
are filled with frenetic energy;
i suppose that's why
the television is on fire
and we are sleeping
in the flowerbeds.
we lie in the stillness
after the lights have all gone out,
blood rushing in our ears
(he still believes
that it's the ocean you hear
inside a shell)
and the air is thick with the scent
of gasoline in the heat:
i ask him what he loves about me:
"your hips," he says,
"your hips roll like the sea,
and all i can do is ride the waves."
lost, but never foundsince you're gone,lost, but never found2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
i have become that one girl:
too much of not enough,
she only goes out after dark,
morphing through time
to the end.
who am i to shine?
what am i?
burn scars and washing machines,
the sound of an approaching train --
off the map,
a soft and fickle heart.
it's all the same
stumbling around after the storm.
these feelings cover me
like summer in Paris;
i see drops of Jupiter
(they are called fireworks for a reason).
my birdcage boy,
outsiders don't understand.
you are foreign even in your skin;
too busy for life,
playing the suicidal king of hearts.
so let's pretend it's 9 pm instead.
burn with me; take two.
you're a subliminal message,
a crown of thorns.
let's play murder,
by your hand is the only end i foresee:
we're both drunk and always have been.
cannibalism: the art of eating my heart and souli. there are some things that you tell to no one, not even the pink-furred easter bunny who knows all your secrets and shares your bed at night and sometimes watches when you touch yourself in desperation.cannibalism: the art of eating my heart and soul3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
ii. no one will ever understand that you don't always have to be asleep to be having one of those nightmares where you open your mouth to scream only to realize that you can't force a single sound past your waiting lips because what kind of freak are you, anyway? you should have -
iii. it's impossible to explain to someone that you might be in love with your best friend who is also a girl but you aren't sure because you're afraid that the only reason you think of women in that way is a reason that you can't tell them.
iv. this is what you have done to me: locked me up inside myself and eaten the key.
fakemy mother wraps herself in liesfake1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
to hide from bitter truths.
her face betrays no secrets,
but her hands have more to tell,
and I flinch to see that my hands
are nearly identical to hers.
(please, god, give me the strength
to live in the cold light of reality)
NaPoWriMo: Day 2sometimes,NaPoWriMo: Day 23 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i have this
sudden urge to cut
most of the time,
i just wish I were anything
other than me.
a rocket ship, a bird-
the sweet flavored smoke
I promised my girlfriend
these briar patch lungs
would not in.hale.
i have fallen in love
with the strangest of things-
eyes that intimidate
the way my scars
play hide and seek
with her hands. -
the love letters
that start and end
pressed against limbs.
i make promises
i know i can not keep.
but if i were a liar
i would say i was tired
of writing to the stars.
to an errant loveri have painted my loneliness white;to an errant lover4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
make no mistake.
it hides itself beneath my skin
and if i try very hard i do not see it.
only in the quiet moments.
you are a teacher
in the art of forgetting -
already i have forgotten
how to breathe.
air is as nothing.
you are in my blood.
i need to sleep to wake up but i can't.
you promised to return -
when? when? when?
i miss you.
i saw you today
and the words in my mouth
blew away with the leaves.
you whispered loving artifice
against my skin in the stillness -
"¿soy una puta, verdad?"
"sí, eres la puta más linda del mundo."
and i am yours beyond all doubt and reason;
only say that you will return.
i will wait here
so that you may seek me
if only in the quiet moments.
NaPoWriMo: Day 4I might have a scrappers knees,NaPoWriMo: Day 43 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
wildflowers growing on my knuckles,
& I might remind you of every nasty thing
you ever did,
but I don’t see you in my mirror.
I just have the right
to hate my own face.
I think this hitchhiker’s heart
is breaking &
I don’t have the medical skill-
or the time
to suture the pieces
back together again.
I want to wake up and not be aloneI closed my eyes while I drove home tonightI want to wake up and not be alone2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I wanted to see if I could remember the curve
of your spine, your lips, the jut of your hip.
(if these walls could speak,
they would scream your name.)
the elements that bind us togetherpoems, wounds, and dead birdsthe elements that bind us together3 years ago in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
made a memory of me.
you can't protect me from them;
i meet things which do not belong to this world.
sometimes there is a dark character in my dreams -
feels like the end.
take a breath
on a cold night.
little gypsy moth,
in every mind
are ghosts up in the attic.
i'd kill to be queen.
faces, spaces, placesallow me to exaggerate a memory or two:faces, spaces, places3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
when somebody says your name for the last time,
you let men lay on you
to keep the sleep away.
years go by like one day
here under the north star.
below the canopies,
lost wishes can be found.
cities sleep inside our heads;
a quiet sentinel.
the longer I lay here,
the most peculiar of places,
in the space where I can breathe,
I can't explain the feelings I get.
have I run too far to get home?
we are all astronauts in the dead of night.
when a poet's heart breaks,
an end is just another beginning.