a paraplegic walked into a barand everyone yelled,a paraplegic walked into a bar in Free Verse More Like This
the difference is in the labelThe only thing that separatesthe difference is in the label in Free Verse More Like This
Love and Lust
i s t h e p r i c e t a g
the illiterate bibliophileheres a poem since you love the attention:the illiterate bibliophile in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
dont even deny it;
one of us is lying,
and its not me.
i can read you like a closed book,
on the bottom shelf, in the back of an old library.
you know, the one with torn-up pages
but embellished cover.
yeah, you know the one . . .
someone in the world loves youtoo bad it's not mesomeone in the world loves you in Free Verse More Like This
pretty words, dead flowers CLBi want a boy that makes me weak in the elbows.pretty words, dead flowers CLB in Free Verse More Like This
i want him to drive a red camaro and put pens behind his ear because hes scared hell think of something he needs to say when theres no one around. i want him to never hesitate to hug me from behind or throw me over his shoulder and spin me until i swallow my spine. i want him to mess up my hair and pinch my cheek and then kiss me until my teeth are shaking and my nerves are smoking. i dont know where he is yet, but i know ill find him.
well, i won't make you weak in the elbows, but i can make you weak in your ribcage; i can tame the struggling butterflies and terminate your bloodflow. i don't have a car, but i'd rather take long walks with you across the vivace boardwalk, holding hands or locking lips. there's no pen behind my ears, but there's an eraser in my chest that can erase all your problems if you listen closely. i won't hug you when you cry; i'd save them for beating up the bastard who stole your t
pneumonia is heartbreaks twini) scrawled a laundry list of everything i want for christmaspneumonia is heartbreaks twin in Free Verse More Like This
and the new year
and my next 34 birthdays
and every holiday in the dictionary
they all rhyme with either
but mostly i want to open a specially gift-wrapped pronoun
to love and to hold, to cherish and other typical weddingvowbullshit;
we'd watch leaves fall during chinese autumns,
and watch sunflowers blossom during french springs.
in summer we'd go surfing at californian beaches,
and in winter we'd go sk
ii) ng through canadian mountains.
even from african grasslands to italian canals,
i would still cherish the pronoun.
to the fields of france and the islands of h a w a
i i i) would never lose an inch of interest.
but you see,
iv) e got an unfinished laundry list with no quarters.
and the dirty thoughts keep piling up,
and the length keeps increasing,
and i'm still wearing clothes from everybody i begged santa for:
there's you, for a shirt
her, for her jeans
you, for shoes
the girl with a trumpet mo
Simple Method to Get PublishedTHREE EASY STEPS TO GET YOUR BOOK PUBLISHED:Simple Method to Get Published in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
I) Write book as fast and as sloppy as you can; make sure to not spend any time thinking about it.
II) Find Stephanie Meyers' publisher, and send her your manuscript.
III) Enjoy irrational fame.
the piano is buried underwaterdear girl,the piano is buried underwater in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
i think i dont know you at all. i think i dont want to know you. part of me doesnt even believe that youre real. and i think i dont care if you dont care, because I dont quite care myself. not nearly as much as he pretends to care. but if you dont care, it doesnt make much difference, now does it ?
i dont know you either, but if youre any less real than i am, youve got a long way to go. you staple my eyelashes like incomplete schoolwork and raise my levied eyebrows like burnt bridges and dehydrate my jawbone like a negative corkscrew. maybe my veins are tired because of you, but maybe theyre not. and this letter wont get to you. it wont. and maybe its better that way.
there couldnt be anyone better for me, but there couldnt
archaeologists excavate botanyyou buried my marrow seeds in skeletal gardens, hoping they would grow into a heart to replace your brittlesweet timebomb. how many half-full, half-empty teardrops does it take to hydrate your frail, fractured fragments ? my watering can has a limit, you know, but i dont want your fragile leaves to suffer osteoporosis. you planted my framework beneath dirt and gravel, but cartilage vines tangled petals with vitamins and the sun bruised my corollas and calyces.archaeologists excavate botany in Teen More Like This
nine months later, i sprouted from the ground, spreading sepal wings, ascending until my height surpassed the sky. you climbed my beanstalk body, counting each thorn as it tattooed your branch arms; with each prick you bled pastel rosebuds a bouquet that shined like aesthetic salesflowers, auctioning beauty, and the appeal of it left you stricken. you were the highest bidder, you were, but even Love comes with a pricetag.
when you become extinct, well exploit your exh
inorganics of a heartattack -c"what do you hide behind your dark eyelashes, boy,inorganics of a heartattack -c in Post-Teen (Mature) More Like This
underneath those paper-thin eyelids?"
"just my blind-boat eyes, girl, and their torrent of ceramic tears. i cotton swabbed the floor of the captain's room, but my mop drowned in the flood."
"what runs in your veins, and what colors the hair
on top of your aureate arms?"
"just my gilded, trackteam hemoglobin and baroque crowncrayons."
"what laces your breath, and what dyes it white
when cigarette smoke is absent?"
"just fingerprint verbs and ceramic snowflakes.
"i can't help but step on the broken shards
of your shattered ceramic tears and snowflakes
and pull them one by one from my shoe's soul.
do you sometimes breathe adverbs, or pronouns,
because i paint my fingernails with
and the hemoglobin you left on my bedroom floor."
"my oxygen inhaleexhaleinhale's wordless
pronouns like 'meandyouandus'
but not 'himorherorthem',
and my speech slurs
even when i knew it would.its like waiting a million years to takeeven when i knew it would. in Free Verse More Like This
your first breath of water. your skin is
alive with a thousand lights only to die
when they all burn out.
and, oh, youve waited! a wild, desperate
need and ache and desire that has laced
through you, bubbling through your veins
and fooling you into believing that there
is, was, should be more.
so when you reach your fingers forward,
this love, this feverish flame turns to ash
beneath your touch, dissolving into the
wind. and the floor drops out, pitches
you forward into the wild yonder of
hopelessness, helplessness, loneliness.
and you close your eyes, you claw out
your heart but you know, with the
certainty of ages that it is not there,
that this flame, this need was nothing
more than a beautiful lie.
[just a beautiful lie.]
i'm running out of excuses.i am shaking with broken bones and trembling fingers.i'm running out of excuses. in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
im digging myself into holes until im ten feet from the surface and gasping for air. and youre standing at the top with half-crescent smiles and gilded lies falling from between your teeth. youre breathing in carbon dioxide while you sip on gasoline, saying the things that are worst for us are sometimes exactly what we need. i dont know what you mean but id like to imagine if i could touch you, youd go up in smoke.
this is when you call me painfully beautiful and kick down a rock, wait until you hear it hit the bottom before you giggle like a child and say that it had taken ten seconds for the rock to land and that was nine more than i would last if you pushed me off the edge of reason. i cant bear to look at you, i cant bear to tell you i fell a long time ago and that you were being generous because it took much less time for me to splatter on the rocks below.
this is when i rem
seasons change, we never do_cIt is always on winter mornings that I miss her most. Snow crunches under my feet, the only sound breaking the silence, the darkness surrounding me. I long to brush the coldness out of her hair, kiss the snowflakes off her lips. I imagine holding her close and keeping her warm through the night. But words, long frozen, would never tumble out of my mouth when she was around.seasons change, we never do_c in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
It is on winter nights that I forget him the best. When the world is painted white and I am nothing but a black speck tossed in the midst of it. I can dance until I am blind, until I dont see anything but the red ribbon of my lies spinning out my teeth. I can dance until thats gone too and he isnt anywhere I am hiding. He once told me I was beautiful and I cant remember if Ive ever heard anything more sad.
It is on spring afternoons that I remember how she used to sing out loud. She never had trouble with words like I did. She danced to the beat of her own melody, stopping f
even if i told you.you are made of dreams and wishes, you areeven if i told you. in Free Verse More Like This
the shimmershake of my nerves over my skin
and the curdling of my stomach. you are the
reason that i open my eyes: so i might countdown
to when my lips might find yours and you can
breathe life into me once more.
you are made of lies and gilded tongues, you are
the tightening of nerves over my spine and the
clenching of my teeth. you are the reason that i
close my ears: so i might never have to hear the
way you twist cheap words into sweet names and
expect me to answer, to roll over and play dead.
you are made of flimsy wings and gossamer, you
are the easy release of breath and the lazy slide of
laughter. you are the reason that i let my muscles
go lax: so i might enjoy the sweetness of discount
happiness, never deep, but the simplicity of ice
cream and picnics and shallow pleasure.
you are made of puzzles and locks, you are the
knitting of brows and the pounding of fists. you
are the reason that i bite my lip: so i might crack
we're chasing sounds_cdear derek,we're chasing sounds_c in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
you are beautiful in the way of parked cars with frosted windows and statues with moss trailing up the leg. you are fascinating but unattainable, with blank-shot eyes and lips that are made to smile but never do. like having a monet turned towards the wall. i think if youd let me i could tug those lips up in the corner, i could warm you from the inside out, i could chip away the ice and turn you belly-side up in the sunlight. i think about it when youre rubbing your hard-angled cheeks or staring at the clock like it means something more than the warm-flesh bodies around you. i dont expect you to let me, but id like to give it a try.
you're just a box of bones with painted on freckles. i am stuck in the vowels when i try to say, "oh, i--" because i can't tell you the truth. the truth is i am a parked car holding the weight of the world and its cars piling up, letters piling up, and clogging emotions. it's letter after lette
then again, maybe.maybe i am the reason this bed is emptyemptyempty but for one.then again, maybe. in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
maybe i am the explanation for the way the tires are peeling out or the way youve already changed your voicemail to me instead of we. maybe i am the excuse for the way our love has a white flag and is curled in the corner, calling mercymercymercy.
maybe i am the poison-tongue and killing-hands that you tell me i am, maybe you deserve someone who doesnt unravel like yarn in the afternoon, click their tongue against their mouth and expect you to help gather the pieces and put them back together in the evening.
maybe i am toomuchtoomuchtoomuch for anyone to ever expect to decipher, understand, control. maybe i am too hot (you did run with burned hands), maybe i am too wild (you did run with barbed wire-scars), maybe i am too irrepressible (you did run spitting saltwater from your lungs). maybe i am more than enough, maybe i am.
then again, maybe i am unruly like wild horses and you just were
we could walk on water.I will find you on the edges of the river,we could walk on water. in Free Verse More Like This
right between the creases where the moss
grows thick and the water gurgles hymns
so softly that you have to still your pulse
just so that you might hear it.
[Quiet, darling, quiet; open your heart and listen.]
You will find me in the pocket of the oceans
darkest wave, curled against the starfish and
seaweed, painting my moon-sand skin with
every color so that I might be as achingly
beautiful as the coral you dream of.
[Pray, darling, pray; open your hands and believe.]
We will find one another in the deepest part
of the deepest lake, pressing kisses together so
that when we breathe one another in, we might
simply breathe, fashioning oxygen from a wish
and touching each other as if one touch can
save the world.
[Sing, darling, sing; open your mouth and love.]
confessions of lostwithoutyou.i'm not a liar. but i never told you that you always looked best in black. i liked how your skin would fade to a paler shade of perfection and your perfect teeth would glint a little brighter. and i could pretend for an evening that you were my black and white dream come true. and with you there would be no shades of inbetweens and no grays for us to get lost. i never told you but it's true.confessions of lostwithoutyou. in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
i was never able to tell you, but i hate the way you cook your 'specialty' eggs. you always laughed over your shoulder and told me that they are the best food ill ever eat, that i was blessed to get the chance to taste them melting on my tongue. but frankly, you used too much pepper and the wrong cheese and i always spit them in my napkin when you turned away. i always told you that they were my favorite food, but i dont even actually like eggs.
i could never say this, but i can't stand the way you click your tongue against your perfect teeth when you're nervous
jeremy lives in the present.jeremy is the type of man who is scared that if he falls between the lines of sanity and dreams, he might never find his feet. he is the type of man who runs all the way home in his suit because he thinks hes chased by demons. he swears the only time they fell asleep was when she ran her fingers up and down his piano-ribs.jeremy lives in the present. in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
jeremy is the type of man who has always been ten pounds below slender, who has always had hair two inches longer than chic and spiderweb-fingers strong enough to make a woman wonder. he is the type of man who wears clothes that are always this side of wrinkled with his grandfathers watch in one of his pockets. he thinks digital clocks sapped the magic out of time and its no wonder everyone is running late.
jeremy is the type of man who falls asleep listening to the radio with a vodka in his hand. he is the type of man who hears his past in-between the chorus and the verse and would sing along if he could carry a tune. instead he hums along unde
can't wait forever.because, boy, you know im looking for you, but im not sure ill ever find you.can't wait forever. in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
im spending my days watching the different eyes that go by but they all have the wrong angle or the wrong shape or theyre a little too gray instead of the blue that i know youll have. there are too many creases where theyve frowned too many times and are a touch too red from too much alcohol when i know youll have at least some idea of moderation. theyre all wrong because theyre not yours.
and im spending my nights listening to the different laughs riding the airwaves but theyre all the wrong pitch or on the wrong frequency or theyre a little too hoarse when i know youll be all smoke. theyre a little too strained because they dont find life funny at all and theyre a little too loud to cover the cheap tongue wagging behind them when i know youre nothing but genuine. theyre making my ears bleed list
To-Do List: September 201001-09-2010 Or maybe i just never got betterTo-Do List: September 2010 in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
08-09-2010 Ice packs and baby food
11-09-2010 Well that's something i'll never be able to tell anybody about
11-09-2010 Maybe i'd be better off alone
14-09-2010 So many people dressing for other people
14-09-2010 Station hole
15-09-2010 I am too afraid to sing out loud
15-09-2010 Looking outside to look in
21-09-2010 Coming home to the smell of freesias
22-09-2010 Turning heads and breaking necks
23-09-2010 Train with the new car smell
24-09-2010 Jealous of lesbians on the escalator
25-09-2010 I am like your voice of reason or whatever
25-09-2010 How can i ever doubt my love for you on nights like this?
30-09-2010 And my bed is still warm from your body
To-Do List: December 200901-12-2009 I kind of wish you were still with me nowTo-Do List: December 2009 in Biography & Memoir More Like This
01-12-2009 Once isn't enough for me anymore
02-12-2009 She will steal your cigarettes and alcohol
03-12-2009 It feels so nice to laugh without inhibitions
08-12-2009 No, please stop, you're making me fall for you
09-12-2009 High tide and low slung jeans
09-12-2009 Pretty sure nothing has ever smelt better than you
10-12-2009 Oh goodness. I feel a bit ill.
10-12-2009 Friend. That word can sometimes sting.
14-12-2009 I always wonder if i'm going to see you in the city.
14-12-2009 And all i can keep thinking is 'my clothes would have been dry by now'
14-12-2009 My bag smells of man
16-12-2009 A lot of what i write *is* about you, you silly boy!
17-12-2009 Work through the storm
17-12-2009 He's lucky to not have me.
18-12-2009 Oh, ill take you apart alright, i'll tear you to pieces if you'll let me.
21-12-2009 Lover of square sprockets and rocket launchers
21-12-2009 I love the smell of your cigarettes in my hair
23-12-2009 Deliciously o
I Want To Know But I Don'thow manyI Want To Know But I Don't in Free Verse More Like This
To-Do List: February 201001-02-2010 Lets set the grass on fire and danceTo-Do List: February 2010 in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
02-02-2010 Smell of chlorine as the car door opens
03-02-2010 I cut my foot running to you
03-02-2010 Twenty-one year old girl on fibre
03-02-2010 Beer farts
03-02-2010 Doesn't want to have to beg you too
03-02-2010 Practicing ollies in the dark
04-02-2010 Wants to drink your smell out of her pillow again soon
06-02-2010 I really hope you don't fall for me. Please.
07-02-2010 Your hair is routinely found tangled up in mine
07-02-2010 Wishes she could be that person for you
07-02-2010 Cross my fingers and say yeah
07-02-2010 Nothing beats the open hand of forever
08-02-2010 Wish you were here instead of just your smell
09-02-2010 Don't you crush my dreams before they've even started
09-02-2010 The majority of the time i thin i'm smelling you on my sheets i'm really smelling me
09-02-2010 Another lie. You have a very distinctive smell.
09-02-2010 Cannot be alone
09-02-2010 Even rockstars have regrets
09-02-2010 Always forgets it's colder he
I'm Glad I Don't Watch Youit means iI'm Glad I Don't Watch You in Free Verse More Like This
think about things
A Kiss On The ForeheadHumming bird,A Kiss On The Forehead in Free Verse More Like This
for the last time;
Tougher Than Coffin Nailsbabe, don't worry aboutTougher Than Coffin Nails in Free Verse More Like This
even if you tried