ends with one. And IIts November again and I feel as if the bracken on the trees has changed so much. And yet, I would not knowI am so far away from that placein not only years.
I believe you look the same. Of course I cant be sure, but real-time details dont change my mental image of you. So I say it. So I believe it. You would rather me believe youve changed for the better, but I know better could only be the same as you were.
But I have changed, of course. And of course it is only ever one-sided this we would agree on. You try to tickle out the nuances you remember that I do not, but I didnt tell you I learnt to suppress the urge to laugh.
But Ill laugh, dont worry.
What I remember most are your eyes. Because they are everything I knew I wanted to exist. No, I couldnt tell you what colour they are, in certainty, but I know them more than I know my own.
Although, I must learn to remember that all we're doing is finding a very similar kin
to build-up smilesi'd like to seduce happinessto build-up smiles7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
buy a new dress for contentedness
slut it up for ecstasy
pull down the sheets on frivolity
melt down the wax around sacrifice
excuse myself for rushing
i'd like to choreograph prayer
the build-up to the artifice
stop smiles from touching
begin the wake before the dawn
the black before the white; a pair
disbanded before a circle shared
one half realising, "i'm just another pawn."
everything. but thisit was morningeverything. but this7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
when you spoke to me in draughts
of sleep and stole my open
thoughts. i was awake between
your fingers interspersed with mine -
i call it collide with world tasters,
yours, and what i call my own i say
is yours, and what i called myself
is there somewhere inside your breath
and it begins inside the sandwich
of night warmth leaking through the
soft of me and you
i call it tracing the day away
with laments for the crooked moon
and his jagged holey smile
(you see even perfection is hallowed,
and this is why i say you are a book
more precious to me than an empty one.)
it was wide awake and bleeding yawns
from the lips that told me the most
beautifullest things in the entirety of
everything. but this is what it is to be
was, and this is what it is to
remember the morning.
lacrimationthey are just as easy to fall away from your fingertipslacrimation7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
- fingertips - as lips are from other lips
they are just as easy to fall away from your fingertips
as smiles are from other lips
it is in your air
the hurried sweetness
all you ever said is stuck between the bottom of my shoes
and this freshly poured cement.
tell me time won't wind along
down with you into your
tell me that memory stays the
same, each time i genuflectause for
Can I tell you how I planned it all out in my head?
when i decide to fall, i do it ever so ungracefully
who are you to say no to me?
you are who can say no to me.
there is evidence to prove the relation between
the sodium collection on my little fingers of keratin
and the words you coughed out inappropriately
would you take a chance on my heart
would you take a chance on my heart
because if i were you
i really wouldn't.
i like my abuse k
mes cauchemars t'aiment aussi7 AM: i'm pretending to sleepmes cauchemars t'aiment aussi5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in order to keep myself awake
from you, even though you're
just whispering to the person
next to you about me but no
it's not about me; it never is.
i'm just paranoid and jealous
and in over my head (not you)
i'm thinking of the lines for me
you should've at least Googled
instead of fabricating lies to me
that are just as fabricated as you
and your ersatz partner-in-crime
whose name makes me cringe in
the same way your eyelashes do,
especially when they look away.
you study not the science of Nightmares,
but the science of love and manipulation.
no, that's his job, naturally, since you're
both out to get me, and i'm trying to get
you alone with me, or at least away from
incubi and doppelgangers and ghosts and
all those demons i wish were real, just so
they could haunt the bullshit out of you...
fast-forward four and a half hours;
i'm sitting with your counterpart
wait, no sitting across or against,
fated two rows and four seats a
Here's To You. I Guess."We won't go down in history, but nothing can ever compare to what you make me feel."Here's To You. I Guess.7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It was something simple, I know.
Just a case of a little you in my eye
(and removing that should have been
as easy as scraping the sleep from dreams)
but it felt like I was holding infinity in my palm
and I had sneezed on the fingertips.
We were Destiny once
in the days when forever was just a word
our tongues liked to play tag with
and our hands were just apparatus to measure affection.
But every now and never,
I like to pretend I'm normal in your absence;
wear your shoes, read the obituaries,
smile at strangers and dip my friends in coffee.
Play you for a day.
But, this morning, I woke up to the strangest dream
naked on my pillow; gap-toothed and smiling.
It told me that mirrors were only invented
to look back at the past without straining your neck.
And I spoke to a pickpocket the other day
while he was fumbling for my change,
introduced him to you through the trinkets I keep in my tr
this is...stop:this is...6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
this is the sound of stars
screaming like fireworks, and
mangled promises spilling
through trainwreck teeth. this
is the sound of lungs filling
with air and girls with brown
eyes and the whisperwhisper
of sheets on skin.
i have never heard a more eloquent silence.
this is not me, this is
the purple-blue of midwest
sunsets and the hope found
between quintessential smiles
and blinding neon lights. this
is the amount of air between
worlds and words and the freckles
on your left shoulder. this is not me.
but i promise you, someday i will be incredible.
you are filled with delicate bones
and inchoate dreams, and maybe
someday you will turn your suppressed
screams into more then just an escape
route. maybe someday you will finally
see your elegant imperfections and
enchanting eyes and you will realize that
you are beautiful.
Time can't change everything.you slip from my graspTime can't change everything.7 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
like the ocean leaves the sand
(always coming back)
shooting star sonataI saw you staring out over the blue and bushy earthshooting star sonata9 years ago in Surrealism More Like This
under a lamp post burning dim and yellow when
i slid across the opal sky in june. i spun and zang like a rocket down
like a spark from dusty shadows on the moon.
Like a spark from dusty shadows on the moon i
darkened, twinkled, -saw the crushing weight below the clouds-
the tight box houses crunched tiny corridors and frowns.
so cold it must be there, blown about by wind by wind and drenched by rain and washed out by rain 'till nobody has color anymore.
And nobody has color anymore. like dried up
vines that wrap around a tree and
--that is the most natural thing--
So i saw you wispering wishes at the sky
--that is the most natural thing--
trusting in the wind to carry them high
out of your own orbits up to me and i
might carry them to god
let me tell you something boy -i've been there-
let me tell you god spoke once
in long and dusty tones and now
under a lamp post
Beautiful, pure, a dying breed01.Beautiful, pure, a dying breed5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
He's beautiful, pure, a dying breed. He's small in size but big in heart and he always sleeps on the right side of the bed. He scolds me for being too serious and I scold him for eating his steak too rare.
He's flipping through my fashion magazines with one bare foot propped up on the coffee table. They tell him pointless things that he thinks are very important, like how faded jeans are in and that he's a summer, although he always liked autumn best.
"See?" he said to me last Fall as he pulled off a red oak leaf off a branch. He pulled it harder than he needed to, the entire tree shaking with his force. "Things are most beautiful when they are almost gone."
He says the same thing about melting icicles and fireworks and sand castles. And because I love him so, I don't tell him that the reason he's so beautiful is because he's almost gone.
He's beautiful, pure, a dying breed, and sleeps on a mattress with no bed frame. He lives alone at eighteen, his house a mess of old pizza bo
uneducation of loveand Ive written youuneducation of love7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
so many letters
in my head,
but my hands
GreenYou told me I was neon.Green7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Not in the finger-scalding, eye-snatching,
you-wake-the-city-nights kind of way,
but more like a satisfying cough in the back of your lungs,
the white noise that blocks out all thought.
And I just laughed and called you a bastard.
You're my green.
It's like, when we kiss,
all I can feel is spring.
And I adore that you don't impose on the iris -
just sit in the background, waiting to be found
and the way your eyes smell of cut grass.
(reminding me of all the things we do in it
that we could never tell the grandkids)
My Illegal StatementHere you are, over my heart like aMy Illegal Statement7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
callous, tender moment. Here you are the motif
of my literature, and every lie I have ever told,
and every truth I have ever cried out as deluged sentences upon a writhed, burning floor. Here you are my craziest oldest ageless thing. Child, elder, here you live; both cast and fracture. Here you are the evaporation. The tug,
the movement. Glass of my bones, diamond of my heart,
you are the weight and simultaneous loss. ...You are the exchange.
You are the bloom and a wide, wide death. You have gathered in me,
a reversed dream, like a japanese paragraph or a magnetic kiss.
I have nursed you. Until your lips. Are coal black... Thus you have broke
inside me like a toxin...and my veins have opened to you with a tragic,
old spirit. Willing. Please, come in, can you hear me? Speak. Have a seat. Kill
me like I matter enough to injure. Love me just once,
won't you? Yes. Yes... You won't.
However, it doesn't matter.
This is simply to say it, a
When Backspace Breaks.And I loved youWhen Backspace Breaks.7 years ago in Other More Like This
more than letters.
I loved you more than language.
bambi eyesthe word pretty suited him rather than the word handsome.bambi eyes5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
he was coffee-table sex and a fake smile.
youre naïve, he would say, but i like that about you.
(i never thought my naivety was a good thing
until he started telling me it was.)
he was sitting on his bed in a oversized sweater
and blue jeans.
he had one hand gliding up and down the neck of his guitar
while the other was strumming the strings.
last night i had a dream that you were happy again. i said.
he stopped playing and looked at me through his thick-rimmed glasses.
it sucks dreaming about things that will never happen, doesnt it?
yes. it does.
he is the boy who stopped cutting his hair
because change began to scare him.
his sungold skin turned grey
and his bambi-eyes rolled to the back of his skull.
thats when i started wearing black.
he was small in size but big in heart
and the cobblestone streets are starting to seem
empty without him.
snapped cables, broken droguesbeing around you is like free-falling in love without a parachute and crashlanding into overcast disillusionment. okay, i lied; i did have a parachute. three actually. but when i pulled it nothing happened. nothing. doesnt that sound familiar ? but i digress. i pulled the backups, but neither of them opened either. now im five-hundred-and-twenty-six miles or kilometers or whatever the hell units you celebrate above the ground. dropping into the inclement atmosphere at three pounds a centimeter. like when mother nature tied the cords into violent knots and blamed it on the weather...snapped cables, broken drogues5 years ago in Teen More Like This
being with you is like bungee jumping through intense gusts of lust twister heartache twisting and recycling cyclone veins. torn ligaments and tornado muscle pain, from lifting ten-year weights with aquarium arms and cheap stunts. because i measure weight in time and peer p
Youthe intricately inspired,You8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the jumble-word genius,
the conscience whose
beauty's drawn from the
last inch of truth.
the classic word-painter,
the omniscient romantic,
the only insightful voice
with enough strength to sing.
You still reverberate in the
hollow shells of prophets,
ignite the ethereal smiles
of dreamers (sweeten their
heads with love-spun words).
The worlds you created
still penetrate the greys
of reality as they drip
from the awe-blushed lips
of lovers and hang inside
the eyelash frames of artists
- and you still exist in
reverance within the eyes
of lyrical aspirers, beat
in the hearts of all the
souldolls you touched.
when words aren't enoughI think,when words aren't enough7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
looking at you
is more poetic
a taxidermist in my spare timeit's always the last week of november when i'm making up statistics to say how awfully uncomprehensible i am. and it's always at exactly a quarter to eleven when i'm writing about nothing except for the vomit in your eyes or the blood in your mouth or another cliche of how pissed off/upset/overdramatica taxidermist in my spare time5 years ago in Teen More Like This
not in love,
and i am not dressing corpses in your clothes,
and i am not in love,
and i am not lying to 500 strangers right now,
and i am not in love,
and i am not pretending that the sweat in your hair or the vomit on your skin or the blood on our tongues is anything other than some absurd metaphor for
because i've been stuffing stockings with christmas lists three weeks early to get the only present i want/need/despise, which just so happens to be in the future, and i need a time machine just to visit it, because i really just want to
because i've been stuffi
Just One TasteLet me swallow you wholeJust One Taste8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and trace my tastebuds around
every tender drop of who you are,
starting with those world-worn,
mud-trodden, kiss-me-tender eyes.
I'll open the centre of your smile
and work my way inwards:
ramble over the
rude roughness of tongue,
trip against the scar
tensed below the surface,
enumerate each eager emotion,
stumble amongst psychosises
howling for salvation,
submerge myself in memories
so macabre they have no end
and graze these lips upon every
guarded groove of goodness.
Then, maybe, below the bile and bitterness,
I'll reach the core of you and ring it
as bright as childhood.
the truth as otheri get the best thoughts in your boarded up toiletthe truth as other7 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
shutting the door tight and hiding where you won't find me.
it hasn't been used for years. the window beams
orange light at me through the cardboard.
it's warm in here, it's filled with spider breath, and i could pretend
i was an earl, with web-hair clumped as curls.
the air is dust and mould and 1980-something -
i can't quite pick the vintage.
i let it settle on my tongue and try my best to keep quiet
you'll hear me and if you do...
i tend to find perfect presents for people i used to know
ten, five, two years too late.
sometimes i buy these things just because of the feelings they evince, they procure. i leave them in places their younger selves might wander through.
do you like it?
and i don't do so well with thank yous as i'd like
no i don't do so well with you at all
i think it's kind of crazy to rely on one thought, one goal, one ability, one truth
and i find it kind of ridiculous that i tend to never follow my own
Love Tales1.Love Tales7 years ago in General More Like This
He was watching her breathe, when she stopped suddenly and turned towards him. In this breath, I hold a thought she said, Ill set it free once you can guess it.
And still when he sits before the sea, watching lovers cuddling, he thinks of that breath of hers.
As she has been going down the stairs she finds that feeling returning of becoming lighter than the air above her. And then, the fear of rising up in through the block of air and reaching the floor she had started from; of finding the door, she had closed before she left, ajar; of finding him sleeping in the green light of the night bulb. That color hurt her eyes.
He dreamt of waking up.
When did you fall asleep on the sand? Did the last sun hurt your eyes? Like it had burned me? And the pages on which I wrote these love tales? Will the sea water heal your hurt or my love tales? Must I hold my breath in anticipation too? Hope? Do you know to dream? Am I the one whos asleep in
uncovered whirlI left my eyes on the shelf so you had no reason to stare at me mouth-word lostuncovered whirl7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
So you could curl into the crackle of my demands;
rumbling from inside
falling quiet through my throat
and coming out as ghost whisper
So sure you heard it?
I was so sure you heard it.
But it doesnt seem to matter so much
Example, follow-through, finished product.
I am your awake
your finished thought compliant
your signed certificate of
they treacle trickle down black-washed paths
padded silent in the closed sign hours
holding close from the streetlight
making sure not to wake the neighbours
adjusting loose pieces of
enamoured with the scent of you
closed outside my breathing apparatus
learning how to perfect a vacuum
you know all the places
that make me want to
cringe, but i
cover girl it up with lust.
You love me
Oh, you love me
you love me love me love me love me
love-me love-me love-me love-me