starsi pray that someday soon, in a lonesome winter, your bones will cease to ache.stars2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
regrets will no longer break your morals like glass figurines,
you will not ask God to pardon your sins.
you will forgive yourself.
i hope, for your sake, that your butterfly-flutter eyes
will only be dampened with tears worthy of shedding.
your glory will shine out of those 2 crystal windows
and you will finally know what freedom feels like.
one day, in the midst of a dreary december, i wish for your wings to open wide
and carry you to heights far past any you have ever experienced.
your lungs will become blooming forests
with snippets of poetry carved into the tree trunks.
you will no longer be broken, but instead, crack into miniscule pieces
of yourself until all of the grace & goodness
buried deep within the crevices of your flesh
is soaked up by the atmosphere.
i am awaiting the day that i can finally lay next to someone i call lover
and point up at the stars to show him
fragments of you scatte
white noise.sometimes i turn off the greasy yellow lights and run the water lava hot.white noise.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the quiet porcelain is an untouched coffin
familiar as the look in your eyes.
i can hear my heart beat in my ears
and i stare at the ceiling until it darkens and blurs at the edges.
my body is heavy as lead
i cannot remember the weight of movement.
sometimes the closest i can get is the suicide between each breath
and the apology unspoken on the inhale.
my skin is a ladder i keep climbing,
i can see through the rungs to the fat cells that weigh down my bones.
my hand becomes his when it creeps uninvited over the landscape of my body
and across the staircase of my ribs.
i can't erase the feeling of his body pressed like a book
over my flower.
my head is white noise that bleeds red,
but i'm tired of all the blood.
tired of all the memories like channels
i keep flicking past.
sometimes i wonder if i cut enough slack in my skin,
001 i am a whirlwind of0012 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
an aching heart
a regret that could
post meridiemi am no lionheart.post meridiem2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
look closely. there are small cracks
along my fragile frame. where purple
and blue blossom underneath flesh,
and pink/white lines decorate hidden skin.
i am far from what you see.
i would say my father is a wari would say my father is a war horse but that is a failed symboli would say my father is a war2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
because he has been dragged through the dirt as many times as this metaphor
i want to write in abstract like in a book of
contemporary poetry i bought over the summer;
it was all syllables and lines of 'talk talk talk' repeated over and over
i want to write something that describes how i feel without saying a word that describes it -
dust and ache and tired and bone and overflowing and lonely and fuck and .
i want to write poems that have meaning without being cliche i want poems
that defy grammar and space and time because when someone reads them, they become me
i want someone to read this and know
it is approximately 12:04am
and my ears are itchy and my eyes -
my eyes -
i feel a deer prancing behind my eyes, his heavy antlers pushing
against my forehead and i should name him athena because i've got an olympic-sized headache
but instead the deer yells WANNA GO?
and he says it like an angry, unde
a town i don't want to call mineon the right of the turquoise green signa town i don't want to call mine2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
that welcomes you to columbia,
there are two gas stations and a church.
on the left side, there’s a morgue.
when i was five years old, my father pulled over
and stopped on the side of the road while black car
after black car passed us, going the other way.
“did we know them?” i asked.
“no,” he said, putting the car in drive. “but someone did.”
at seven, mr. jimmy down at the ice cream shop
let me have free samples of all the new flavors he made
before he put them out to the public.
a favor, he called it, for his little henry.
(years later i would realize that my mother
brought henry into the world.
i would realize my mother brought most everyone
in that town under the age of twenty
into the world, and she never regretted it
even if some of them became gang members, murderers, victims, and
little henry’s leg was crippled in a four-wheeler accident)
i would stand in line during church communion
bad days.on my bad days,bad days.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i open notebooks like bibles and hold pens like lifelines.
i keep opening the book of my memories
just to see if it still leaves a bruise.
i am covered in the bruises of your hand
your ghost is in my bed. i can't sleep there,
again i find myself miles from home
wishing on stars i can't see
and spitting memories into the ocean like watermelon seeds.
i sit on my longboard like driftwood and send my shivers into texts
like letters i never should have mailed.
on my bad days,
i wear cuts like ropeburn,
like i just don't know when to let go.
i get lost inside the sadness and hold tea thats long since gone cold
as hours escape like small birds set free.
i forget to open the blinds
and paint my fingernails black
and stare at the too-big numbers aligned on the scale i can't stop stepping on.
slingshot words.there are a million worlds living in your headslingshot words.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
begging to be wrapped around your tongue and released like a slingshot
into the heart of some stranger you may never meet.
count to infinity before you sleep.cause i knowcount to infinity before you sleep.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
there are days when
it's painful to even breathe,
your throat closing up on the knowledge
that you don't know
how much longer you'll be waiting on this
band-aided, superglued planet.
every cell in your body vying to be the next to die,
and all you have to tell them is
maybe. maybe next time.
those are the days you spend
cutting rose thorns into your palms
and clenching your fists tight around
jagged reflections and prismed rainbows.
the days you realize
we're losing so much faster than we're learning.
we're maturing faster than we're growing.
adults stuck in the bodies of kids,
moving around, making the mistakes
no one ever wants to look back on.
those are the days you realize
it's not worth living here anymore.
you're using too many burnt-like sugar words
to get what you want, a mistaken human in wolf's clothing.
your lies are becoming louder than your screams,
but if the knife fits wear it on your skin.
this is the age where you feel caught between
2nd priority maili remembered you lion-hearted,2nd priority mail2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
but just insecure enough to let
me wrap my good intentions around
your neck to warm you with the
heat of all their purity.
people aren't games,
but we played each other as if
our backbones were life savings
begging to be gambled away.
you melted inside me until i could
no longer tell the difference between
each of my individual bones.
you started screaming the promises
that were whispering through my blood stream
straight into the gaps between my eyelashes,
telling me that i should've looked for you
at that goddamn bus stop under the rain that night.
you cracked into shrapnel,
told me you were stuck in the arms
of someone you didn't deserve to call lover -
said you felt like shit wasting her.
at that bus stop, there was rain.
there was rain, and at the bus stop
you told me you were safe in my arms.
that nothing bad ever happens to those who wait.
i collected you like a pile of postcards
mailed from woman to woman, each kissing
your frayed edges wi
tear the skeleton from his comfortzonei want to build a skyscraper, seventeen stories hightear the skeleton from his comfortzone2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and fill each floor with a story from the people who never said goodbye.
a middle child, born in 1994,
she always wanted to be loved the most
until she learned how to give a blowjob
in an alley behind Miss China’s Takeaway
at knife point.
she lost her childhood
to an ocean who always thought it was small
and never stopped pushing its borders.
he’s not sure how he’s supposed to live without her.
staring at the closed coffin, he loses the ability to want to.
it’s not fair, she thinks,
that the house creaks when she’s trying to sleep,
but when he leaves, it doesn’t make a sound.
nine months and a small coffin later,
she thinks she likes the name “amber”
“tomorrow,” he says as she passes him in the hallway—
him from math, her to english. “i’ll tell her tomorrow,”
a thought he had had for the
one day, i sent a letter to the mooni got sick of our tired old earthone day, i sent a letter to the moon2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and asked if i could join
the man in the moon
on an afternoon for coffee;
he preferred tea.
a guide to her sadness.her wrists are wishbones she breaks for luck,a guide to her sadness.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
not knowing there is no luck in the break.
her veins are unanswered prayers
her lungs an apology sent as letters to heaven,
hoping God will forgive her for being a continual disappointment.
her head is a phonebooth for all the thoughts nobody's picking up on.
the the sadness is sinking her again.
so when she leaves at midnight to longboard to the ocean,
go with her.
when she tries to climb bridges,
don't let her.
when she's drinking cold tea and playing daughter,
it means she's trying to pull her head together.
when she's in the bathroom praying to the toilet,
decide to knock.
when she avoids you,
hide her blades.
she doesn't have the will to fight anymore.
so on the bad days, fight for her.
she was my tabby catlurking recollectionsshe was my tabby cat2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
of tossled moonbeams
were the patterns that radiated
her crescent skin.
she arched her back,
(like a yawning cat on a milky
and felt the rhythmic
spine as it
truthsi.truths2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
there are 2 things that not even the most
forceful of rains can cleanse me of:
sometimes, i feel like a caged lion.
only with a lot more impatience
and a lot less resilience.
i have yet to discover what it means to be content.
i am either too stagnant or too fluid.
no middle ground.
i have mastered the art of leaving.
it's the idea of moving on that still haunts me.
i fear that the light in my eyes is so dim that it will burn out
before even i have a chance to see the world with it.
i am not as clever as i pretend to be.
someone needs to teach me that
i don't need reassurance; i need self-assurance.
that someone should be me.
my greatest fears are loneliness and cancer.
the second because all my beauty is in my hair.
the first doesn't need an explanation.
i am still discovering what it means to be a woman.
everything is confusing me.
i am secretly afraid of massages.
feels like i'm being stabbed.
we all know how that is.
And should some why completely weepon nights wrought of quiet,And should some why completely weep2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
(born to the moonlight
who slunk between far theres
to nestle lines of silver,
when i felt her reflections
near)white sheets rustling
the only sound in my ear,
even the house held its ghosts
and rusting pipelines still;
when the streets were statue,
(and so rarely were the streets
empty)cars parked quivering
beneath the glass that held
my eyes in theirs: nights
when breaths were most rancid,
the floorboards creaked like
tectonics were his footsteps,
he the embodiment of mountains
shifting, eons spanned in frightful
seconds(when the moonlight
was shut from the bedroom
and noise repossessed)
the rainfall kidshe always loved the sting of grapefruitthe rainfall kid2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and the way the winter air kissed her skin,
leaving it pink and raw and sensitive to the touch
like the heart she tried so hard to hide.
but she never grew up, not really.
she always belonged to the rain
and never stayed in one place for too long.
she was afraid her stupid heart might dig in,
leave its roots in the people and then
it would rip and tear when she up and left.
and she never accepted the fact that
she did indeed have a heart.
she tried so hard to be hollow and
let the winter rain chill her skin and
soak into her bones so that she, too,
might be just as cold.
so she stopped believing in sunshine.
she accepted the title of rainfall kid,
and lived with thunder in her chest.
to the gunman of a school shooting in newtown, CTthe black man on the television screen spits reform,to the gunman of a school shooting in newtown, CT2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
but parents of dead children plea gun control in the
wake of the destruction of 20 children, 26 lives total.
adam, don't you realize it's christmas time & these
parents will be burying bones instead of caroling songs?
the black man on the television screen admits:
our heart is broken.
but there is no beauty in the unity that follows robbing
of innocence. adam,
you sprayed the school with bullets bursting into shrapnel
off the shattering skulls of children.
20 little bodies hauled off in white sanitation bags,
stained red with crusty blood and shouting mothers screaming
to the heavens.
there is nothing clean about the way 26 connecticut families
will be washing the salt water off their chapped cheeks eternally.
you drained them internally. in america,
to know change you must create it, but we have
a cabinet full of ornate teacups not willing to
blow the dust off their porcelain edges.
you'd think we'd learn from our mistakes, but adam
one of those things, i suppose1—5;one of those things, i suppose2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
some things you just know, i guess.
like, when i was in first grade, i knew five things for sure.
i knew that humans had five fingers on their hands,
that dragons were real,
that i was going to be a doctor firefighter when i grew up,
that my mother thought i was perfect,
and that if you got hurt on the playground
you had to go tell a teacher as soon as possible.
the thing with getting older
is that everyone always tries to tell you
what “getting older” means.
really, it just means that you’re nine and no longer eight
and you’re not yet ten, but slow down that will come soon.
some things you just don’t know, i guess.
like, in third grade gym class,
our coach told us that if we wanted something
we had to work for it and he also told us
never say never and that practice made perfect.
i stuck my hand up and told him about miracles,
about how it was okay to say no and never
and about how we were all born perfect.
what you bring to the tableyou know, today i read that humanswhat you bring to the table2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
are made out of stars
and i found that really interesting
because we all look up to celebrities so much,
like they’re sent from the heavens
when it turns out,
we are too.
your mom gave birth to you and
i think that’s beautiful—
the way one living thing can make
another living thing
and the second be completely different and unique
from any living thing that has ever lived before it.
but i also think it’s beautiful the way
you are made up of things older than
you can dream to be and it doesn’t define you
and it doesn’t break you and it doesn’t really change you—
you could have been a dwarf star or someone’s sun,
but now you can be anything you want and if you’re lucky
someone’s world can still
revolve around you.
worship yourself. love the bend in your spine
when you’re carrying a backpack full of your future,
the squint in your eyes from staying up too late,
your feet that without
getting too attachedto the one night stand, probably sittinggetting too attached2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in a taxi on the way back to his overpriced apartment,
this is just to let you know
that i wish i could love like you do.
that is to say, in under thirty minutes and not at all.
this is just to say
congratulations on being my first
one night stand
and also, i just wanted to tell you
that i’m glad you never gave me your name
because if you had, i would have tracked
you down through the whole city,
holding my heart in my hands
until i found you so i could give you
the damn thing.
it’s going to be a long time before
i can get those eyes out of my head, boy.
i wish you had fallen in love with me,
like in those movies or in those books,
and then you would have stayed.
i wish i could have met you
at my workplace and you would
take me out to dinner or to an arcade
or to a midnight showing of a B rated horror film.
i wish you were nervous the first time you kissed me
and that you tasted like a breath mint
instead of cheap
The Dream DiaryTaken from a journal belonging to Patient 357 after he was checked in by a relative. Patient suffers from sleep disturbance, delusional paranoia, and self-injury. Further analysis needed.The Dream Diary2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
This is what I remember: when I woke in my own consciousness, I was standing in a field of corn. The stalks were as impossibly tall as they had seemed in my childhood. I reached for an ear and peeled the green husk away from it, rubbing the cornsilk between my fingers until it disintegrated, gray and ashy.
At once, I fell to the ground, pushed by the strong hands of someone unseen but undeniably malignant. There was mud on my back, cold and soaking, and I began to cry because I knew my aunt would be furious when she saw me. I tried to stand again, to wipe it away, but my body was leaden. Even lifting my fingers was arduous, painful: I felt like I was condensing, preparing for implosion, but woke once more, this time in the sinews of reality, my bed hazy and soft beneath me. I struggle
stardusti keep myself covered most days.stardust2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
my waist is a melancholy echo of
the way he touched me 2 summers ago.
the way my right shoulder leans slightly lower
than my left is evidence of far too many misdemeanors.
the cracks decorating my ribcage are memories
of a brisk december morning when my pride
clawed its way out before i was ready.
i am not old; just soulful with the kind of passion
that flickers like the candles i light in lieu of all my
selfish prayers that i gave up expecting answers to.
all i need is someone who is willing to
open up my scars & sprinkle them with
stardust until they disappear.