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astrological.i. On some nights,astrological.5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
street lights guide
this lonely heart
to her lonely bed.
ii. In this universe of twilight skin
& mismatched bones,
I wonder just how many poems sleep
beneath the inkwell of her eyes.
iii. My body is a house of stars,
and her palms are black holes
sucking ( me ) into their vortex of
nothing.
iv. She says, "Please—my moon,
please—give these bones a reason
to stay."
& I am whispering lovelies
into the sanctuary of her heartbeats.
v. "Goddess temple,
sunset eyes, &
my windowpane love-
Let us eat the stars
t
dust.I'm chokingdust.5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
on the ink-dipped fingers
of verbs & metaphors
still lodged in this bruised,
paper crane throat;
the starving,
dead-flower scent
of your words,
still kissing my ribs.
How can you judge me-
when you don't bother
to read the naked poetry
beneath the temple of my flesh?
How long can butterfly
ankles hold up a
star-soaked frame?
Don't bother whispering
your secrets to nebulae,
not even the dust in my veins
will listen anymore.
No wander about it, just lust.You were a mid-morning train wreck,No wander about it, just lust.4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
the embodiment of poetry.
& my clavicles whispered too many nothings
about your summer storm hands,
folding like paper cranes
to make wishes upon themselves.
wishes are for the weak-
stand up,
do something about this quaking heart
& freezing fingers.
Anything.
I think I found God then,
lurking behind wanderlust eyes.
fly.this is hard for the world around us to grasp:fly.5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
these wildfires raging in our retinas
& the sins we wear like demonic similes
on our tongues- they are not enough.
& i am so fucking sorry of saying i'm sorry.
but, tell me,
what is a young poet(ess) to do
with veins made of kite strings?
Dear Poetry,I might be dangerously on the verge of being poetic, but-Dear Poetry,5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Sometimes I don't feel me in my own skin.
I am too many breaks between pulses,
& a heart still living in the autumn of 99.
I'm telling stories about a girl.
A soul made of ink & godly metaphors,
too much for a non-homeostatic body.
There were once fireflies in her smile,
alight between the gaps in her teeth.
A rebel,
love letters carved into wrists
she never sent.
Poetry,
She is Porphyria, & you are her lover.
William,If I am nothing but an actorWilliam,5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
on a stage in this dust town
of rose torn bones and washed up
stars, why is it that the galaxy sculpted
crescent moons in my palms
ache?
BloodI've got a filthy mouth,Blood6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
& a house of stars
thriving in my throat.
21 years
silent
& I still have yet to tame
this grounded constellation
I call my temple. -Slithering
tongue hissing too many
"fuck you's" against my teeth.
I fear I will write myself hollow-
or until my bones are corroded away
& I am nothing-
an insignificant nebula
orbiting the wrong atmosphere.
But, my veins bleed sweet ichor,
& words are only words, Mother.
Depression like lipstick stainsOn some days,Depression like lipstick stains5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
you are the angel dust
settled in my bones
keeping these December limbs
& Sunday-morning-coffee eyes
warm.
But, other days-
other days, I don't know
what to do
with your tornado kisses,
rage teeth that bite
& tear at my poetic insanity.
With these miles and miles
of bodies & hollow space
between our magnetic hearts-
How is it that these light-year pulses
still beat in sync?
ConstellationShe is dream dust,Constellation6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
too bitter or wise
for her own good.
A timeless dragon's soul
somewhere inside a
scaled shell, burning
the silence in her bones
alive, honeysuckle sweet.
She collects fireflies only to
set them free at 3am,
crying to an uncaring moon.
& she's begging for the stars
to take her away,
make this house a home
rigged in the sky.
To me,
She is already naked fever
swimming through the cosmos
& I orbit her.
Please, forgive me.Like lies, you saidPlease, forgive me.6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
I make breathing the cosmos
through rose colored lungs
look easy- vertebrae stretched
toward the moon.
& I'm hanging my bones
out to dry, carving Saturn's
rings into my wrists- my
star burst ankles.
I swore then I'd keep my
black tongued poetry
& uprooted limbs far,
far away from you.
But, like lies, galaxies,
& night fevers, you
are the destination
on my star map skin.
I want to forget names,& faces,I want to forget names,4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
& people.
I want to forget their veins,
fingerprints forever burned into my eyelids;
wrists I can't look at
without longing to tear apart.
Spine full, and spiteful:
I want to cry
roses in my midnight tea
for these star collapsed lungs.
I want to cry for her
& for me.
But Shame,
she wont allow me the courtesy.
FrostI am devouring chaos,Frost6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
chasing it down with winter's chill.
Spare me your fingerprints,
summer's lovechild. Those knowing owl eyes
have me second guessing the wild churning
in my bones. You are the sleep that sweeps
my eyelashes, drowning me in my own daydreams.
When was it...
that you plastered yourself to my ribcage?
Scorpion"Show me your bones."Scorpion6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
the atlas of her thighs quaked
as she misplaced her skin
in the backseat of his car.
"I'm a scorpion, you know-"
a messy promise
folded napkin-neat.
"Prove it."
& she smirked,
sure of her limbs,
her scars, & her teeth.
"I dare you to stake claim to this clavicle."
wet scribbles, tattooed tragedyI am shedding my skinwet scribbles, tattooed tragedy5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
like the poetry that bleeds
from your ink-cracked lips
onto the bare bones of my
anatomy.
Unfold these moon-shy limbs
that chase silence
& beg stay-with-me.
For you are the only verse
hidden within this labyrinth
of scar-damaged flesh.
August Lover,I want to wrap myself in your air,August Lover,5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
hold your secrets between my
ribcage-embrace & just
breathe.
Her eyes scream fill in the _____.They saidHer eyes scream fill in the _____.6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
she has starving
little poet fingers,
& lungs-
filled with
the heroic hearts
of nameless protagonists.
But, she cries
tears of Saturn
on too-little-sleep nights,
& coffee ringed mornings.
They call her vanilla.
Innocence,
much too ripe to fall
with freckles on her
wander(lust)
shoulder-blades
singing connect-the-dot
blues.
GravityAutumn wanted to learnGravity6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
how to
fall.
So, the galaxy of dead trees
coiling in your lungs
devoured her spine.
Your gifts,
a lifeline wrapped around
her neck like a noose;
an orange and red
assisted suicide.
& you said "God bless your
heart." like some divine
higher power could forgive
her for loving you.
Androphobiai was stitched lips and a flightless raven heart-Androphobia8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
all sex and a contorting spine;
his own lips engraving 'kiss me's' on empty stars.
& between you and me: i feared his teeth,
& tongue, & honest organs-
with skin that begged, 'please, don't touch me.'
don't touch me.
don't fucking touch me.
i am not soft.
there is a war raging in my lungs,
screaming through the uncharted galaxies
of my wanderlust heartstrings.
i am not soft.
i am lust, & war, & envy—
i am sin,
crooked, misshapen,
& the kind of prosetry yet to be proofrea
NecromancyShe replaces her wristsNecromancy6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
with the sharp thorns
of roses and slurred
don't-touch-me's
-
as she speaks
in an old tongued
language that whispers
de
cipher
me.
-
She collects stars
on her knuckles,
& her dust eyes
are sad moon nebulas
starved for love.
-
But, the kisses
she sinks into the curve
of her lover's ribcage
by night, warm that
supernova heart.
Her Musethese words are not poetryHer Muse8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
swimming liquid fire through ashes
of dead phoenix veins.
no, they are rough and callused
with over use, their own faithless artists
spewing black tar from their lungs
in the hopes to one day breathe again.
nothing moves her.
she would rather scribble her heart out
on physical manifestations of her own reality-
on skin and bones she worships like a temple.
"Write of me," he says, "right here."-
planting sun-stricken kisses
along the hollow of her burning throat.
"I want to be where your heart sleeps."
HeroineSometimes,Heroine6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
she tries to fall into the night,
tipping her strawberry heart
like a tea bag into hot waters-
always scolding herself
kissing ocean beds.
Her hips, tides rolling
towards the antagonists
of myths & legends.
But,
with a thousand leagues
of sea behind her eyes,
she will always save herself.
Muse:She corrodes star shapes intoMuse:3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
the hearts of sleeping poets,
slowly, methodically.
FeverI like pretending I mean something to the ghostsFever7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
who wreak havoc on my bones-
impaling these masochistic butterfly wings
on railroad spikes
between heartbeats and bedsheets,
immortalized.
I got a heart in New Orleans,
palms engraving names like
Juliet, Alexandria, & Christine
on the seats of greyhound buses.
& I'm offering up 102 degrees of skin to a godless moon
as I breathe in her night scent.
Shy moon,i've got love carved into honeysuckle wrists,Shy moon,5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
a murder of crows in my throat,
& a pack of wolves at my back.
i want to know truths behind these myth eyes, &
the distant galaxies under your fingertips.
but, love me. love me, Love.
show me what's beyond Grimm fairy tales
& scars.
spare me your ribs;
this skyscraper heart
needs a place to go.
Sta.sh
