your paperheartyour paper heartyour paperheart in Free Verse More Like This
that had the
prettiest word i've
ever heard written
fucked me over,
so i'll fold it
just so it can fly away from me.
broken butterflybroken butterfly,broken butterfly in Free Verse More Like This
i'll tape your wings
so you can fly to the sun again.
weed memories,dear lord, it feels likeweed memories, in Free Verse More Like This
memories are weeds
being pulled by the
The Beat Of Your Heartthe rhythmic-beating-of-your-heartThe Beat Of Your Heart in Free Verse More Like This
resonates across the world, and you
have everybody dancing
meet me in paradisethe car slipsmeet me in paradise in Free Verse More Like This
on the road
and we're falling
off the bridge
and i'm only
counting how many
breaths you take
before you tell me
you'll meet me in paradise.
love lettersit's the day of our anniversary andlove letters in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
i'm reading old love letters and i suddenly miss the sweet scent of daisy perfume curling under my nostrils. i suddenly began waking up every summer morning because you always left for work and you wouldn't ever leave without kissing me goodbye. i'm reading every sentence over and over again while wondering why God sent the only person i loved towards a different direction.
white lies and truths,yes, darlingwhite lies and truths, in Free Verse More Like This
i suppose it is difficult to find
a powdered truth in the
world of your white lies.
a mirror can't lie unlessi can sink into your reflectionsa mirror can't lie unless in Free Verse More Like This
a beautiful constellation
inside another world
in the sky of the
moment of decaydo not ask him ifmoment of decay in Free Verse More Like This
you do not desire
a liar who will
speak truthfully only to satasify
tragedy - "do you love me?"
silence is virtue for tears -
and his reflection is no longer
present in concave mirrors
you are revalationyou are revalation in Free Verse More Like This
you are revelation - some pseudo fairytale
(my heart has already heard enough
for one lifetime. don't call me and tell me
Cinderella doesn't exist)
my eyes are like mirrors - you said, "likewise"
(reflecting your emptiness - and i am
broken - but do two wrongs make
so why don't you love me, baby?
alivei want to be buried inalive in Free Verse More Like This
a grave made of water
because i write poetry
but don't understand it
because i know how to feel
but not how to cope
or how to tell you what
it feels like to die
my mother will cry and
her garden will still grow
but she will not take down
photos on the windowsill
she will age dutifully and
retire, travel the world and
i will only regret not being
able to see her finally happy
my brother grow up without
knowing how much i cared
but he will still think
of me on his wedding day
his eyes will be a window
not to his soul, but a world
of pain and loss and he will
wish that i could say sorry
and the boy who knows that
he was the only one i loved;
he will lose himself in the
thought that he had the chance
to save a life, but didn't;
he will read my poetry and
not understand why but know
that i loved him more than life
i will fade to dirt, and from
me will grow a peach tree, with
the type of leaves that children
will make boats out of, sail
across their puddle oceans
your warmthyou stood in the doorway, damp orange light falling across your skin, black hoodie falling from your shoulders gently, hair a mess - and you were all but perfect. you stood, leaning against the door frame a little too drunk, and smiled at me. it was that kind of smile that i knew meant more than it should have, the one i have seen too many times since - the kind of smile that meant something. i'd like to tell myself it meant the world - that when, for the first time in a year, our eyes met and you told me something that wasn't a lie - the stars had aligned or the universe corrected itself - but i know that's not true.your warmth in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
we kissed that night, the alley way beside your house. you ran your hand along my legs, along my ripped tights, and i could feel your heartbeat under the sleeve of the shirt i had always loved. you stared at me, face relaxed, and told me that you had wanted that for a year.
sometimes, i think i have too.
my heart didn't explode though, and my knees didn't shudder undernea
two weeksmadeline wants to paint a picture on a canvas.two weeks in Short Stories More Like This
she wants to build a tree house and wants her netball team to win the final.
meet someone new every day. she wants to realise pink's an ugly colour and throw out all of her clothes.
she wants to make her first phone call to a boy and hold his hand and go to his house. she wants to get butterflies and wants to share a hot chocolate with him. she wants to have her first kiss.
she wants to listen to music until its all she can hear. she wants to fail tests and say fuck studying, she wants to get a detention and wants to tell her parents that she handed in the excursion money, but keep it for herself.
madeline wants to get high and get a piercing and tell everyone she's fighting the power. she wants to try being vegetarian for a week. she wants to skip school and go to parties. she wants to stumble home in the early morning.
she wants to detox and spend all sunday sleeping. she wants to apologise to her parents and try so very hard to
wish upon a starthe air is always cold this time of year, you once told me as we lay in bed, warm, watching the last few seconds of christmas eve fall away. you whispered merry christmas in my ear, ran your hand along the the valley of my waist and told me that you had the best christmas present ever. i didn't need to ask what it was, because i already knew.wish upon a star in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
'this time of year, miracles come true,' i could tell you were murmuring through a smile into my shoulder 'if you just close your eyes and wish upon a star hard enough.'
giggling, i closed my eyes and wished that i would wake up next to you. when you asked me what i wished for, i turned to face you, and through a succession of small kisses i whispered that i couldn't tell you, or it wouldn't come true.
god, we always thought we were so young.
you know, i have closed my eyes every year since then, and wished for the same thing. this year though, i lay in my double bed alone, sheets littered with cigarette burns and little pieces of wrapping paper.
shattered shards of the nightit is thin and brittle darling;shattered shards of the night in Free Verse More Like This
all you have to do is reach out and break it
and the night will shatter around you
introduce me to your bleeding knuckles
and i will watch them run scarlet and
i'l watch you cry. you're ever so pretty
when you cry, darling.
your body is moulded to fit mine
to keep me warm through those nights
when the night seems just so, so
your ever so beautiful eyes
are colours that i cannot mix with paint,
only with tears and dye from the very
very bottom of my leaking heart
my fingertips will trace your spine
that pokes in-and-out in-and-out and
you will tell me that it's nice, knowing
that i love you.
but your breath smells like coffe and your
heart like cinnamon and i've never
really loved you, just i can't stay away from
you and your sweet smelling existence
you walk with your knees bent, lovely
but i don't mind, as long as your fingers are
still long and your fingernails still short
you'll still be just as enticing
but you'll still be bleeding
harlequinade smilehe has a harlequinade smile and sometimes we fuck under the stars. in the backyard; a mess of drunken, tired limbs shaking in the breeze and shaking under one another, we disregard everything we care about for as long as we want and everything is perfect as long as we keep it that way.harlequinade smile in Teen More Like This
we collapse into each other; our heartbeats slowing and our breaths becoming deeper as we lay next to each other and watch what we can see of the stars from our suburban backyard. he tells me they're beautiful, and all i can remember is the real stars; the real night sky without the purple haze of pollution clouding the sky. i want to show him the real night sky one day.
he tells me he wishes moments like these could last forever, as we lie side by side watching as the purple-black sky fades into blue and the stars cease to exist for another day. his dark, tired eyes stare through me and i haven't slept but it doesn't matter, because his smile is warm and his hands gentle, resting in the curve of my back
a thousand daysthe sky was an endless seaa thousand days in Free Verse More Like This
of grey and white and lost sailors
those who knew no better
who had no one to miss them
i had not seen the sun in days
months, years, decades or lifetimes
bathed myself in cold, murky water
because i was a lost sailor
who knew no better
and had no one to miss me
your skin in the spring light and
brown hands wrapped around mine,
lingering kisses in the dark
and your smile, stretched across
a canvas of hope and second chances
washed away those thousand days;
showed me that the sun is not hidden
i just didn't know where to look
the soundtrack of our winter,i'm just a kid trying to make something beautifulthe soundtrack of our winter, in Free Verse More Like This
from the restricting feeling that encloses my chest and the hopelessness that presents itself in the form of blurred vision and
it's all i've got;
life gets fucking ugly and i write stories to the shins and jeff buckley
but i can't deal with it any more;
can't deal with the lines underneath my eyes and can't write
about this any more
i hate my body
its just a shell for the words i
would you even cry?
would you get up and move on or would you take the
kurt cobain route;
or blow your fucking brains out?
do you need to know why?
boy who belongs to the sunhe asked me once, 'are you afraid to die?' and i didn't know how to answer. i'd like to say that i am; that it scares me more than anything else, but i can't help but think that the world becomes a better place when you die. i told him i wasn't and he stared out the window at the dark street. resting his head against the slightly-frosted window pane, he breathed 'neither am i'boy who belongs to the sun in Short Stories More Like This
we're all just dying, though, don't you think? we're not living, we're dying. every day is another day we won't ever get back and another day that we won't ever remember. at least we're dying together, though. at least we can say that we've spent time watching our lives pass us by and not doing anything about it. i think that's the best thing we can do, really.
i realised the other day that there's nothing to be afraid of. that even if we are dying, that even if we are lost, thats the point. that maybe we're supposed to get lost and find our way out. that maybe if we spend long enough dying when the time real
but yousilence unfolds, breaking and fallingbut you in Free Verse More Like This
like the young and the blind, like the
rhythmic pattern of sun and rain
and i grow hollow and eternal, fingertips
tracing the hollows of your shoulder blades
while the night holds its breath for us
damp orange light dances stale ballet
with the smoke trailing your jaw, and your
eyes make me feel like this pain -
no, it never existed
this is not my cardiganGod, he is smiling at the waitress with big eyes as she brings him his dinner. i can see the gnarls of his hands from a dozen feet away, his chair pulled close to the wooden table. i watch him reveal his little teeth, presumably polydented dentures. he is wearing a yellow sweater, a cardigan with elbow patches.this is not my cardigan in Biography & Memoir More Like This
the chair across from him is empty and in the same grain pattern as the table with his towering pile of supper. my brother asks if i know why he is alone and i tell him to keep silent. his wife died, he told me, with a smile. the old man turns his eyes to his meal and slowly begins to eat.
God, please forgive me for not sitting with him; forgive me for not telling him i am so sorry and i love him; please forgive me for not crying into his sweater or being enough
epiphany # 244: we will find this man again someday, and show him love still exists at the bottom of our hearts and a teacup.
i'm too sick to lovedon't let me goi'm too sick to love in Free Verse More Like This
if you don't know
what to do without me;
if you can't
sleep at night
because you wonder
whose arms i'm in,
and break bones every time
they're not yours:
it means you should
hold on to me.
it seems like
i might just jump
but i always come back to you.
i'm sorry that i'm so stuck.
love is when you answer my call,
to hear your voice
a thousand miles away.
i'm sorry we aren't
i'm sorry i'm
for you to
echolaliayou were the taste of something sweetecholalia in Free Verse More Like This
with the foreshadowed promise
of the bitterness that would soon
wash me to sea again.
the nights we spent
of clouds and of cloth-
frighten me as much
as they please me
the roiling ocean,
lapping at our heels
as we became lovers
under the sky;
the curses and hisses
of an extraterrestrial fire
as you whispered to me
to pay no attention
to the teenagers drunken
on the sand;
to feel your skin
along mine in lines
and your lips,
the entire inability
to dismiss the songs that
our hearts once sang
as fragmented fantasies
strikes chords of longing
and echolalia in me
as i utter the moans of
the single wolf
aching on the cliffs.
no amount of midnight,
nor any number of stars,
can take me out of the headlights
i walked toward the cars.
i do not know
how to live with you
as much as i do not know
how to live without you;
i am dead,
buried in the earth,
because knowing you
has rendered me
bokonon, interrupteda mire of snakes,bokonon, interrupted in Free Verse More Like This
we are mud
made into man,
flesh of the earth
and our only decision,
our only non-epiphany,
when god loosens
our marionette strings
for a human moment,
is how to best
summer 2011the keys are trappedsummer 2011 in Free Verse More Like This
inside your car,
into thousands of fairy lights
and echoes of laughter.
here we sit,
watching boys teetering on the edge
of being men turn into
human fireworks, clothing ablaze
like the stars so far from reach.
it's with the breath
of the sun on your back,
the patterns of roses on your wallpaper
opening like mouths into full blossom.
i take a hot injection of humid air,
watching the fish pass in its currents,
and release the stream back
into the ocean.
we sit with our spines on fire,
lit beneath the baked, freckled crust
of our skin.
sipping italian sodas and absorbing
as much uv radiation as possible,
we bloom into fuller people.
the nights sit cool and light
on our shoulders,
the pavement still branding
the backs of our thighs
as we sit and bare stories
that made us into the
humans we have become this final summer.
the vomiting crowd of coney islandthe destructive walls are shadedthe vomiting crowd of coney island in Free Verse More Like This
in grey and i am remembering
every feeling i have forgotten-
i am terrified.
this is a city that never sleeps,
the bones of my chest thrumming
like taxi cabs in the streets,
my fingers shaking
in want for comfort and solace
i am not standing
in lorca's vomiting crowd-
i am his vomiting crowd,
looking high and low
and between my clenched fists
for catharsis and purification,
for the reason of this illness
pressed against my skin,
for the indefinable sickness
i drown in like bubbles of spit
day in and day out.
i fear the restraints
i've placed for myself,
that they may not be there
or are not in fact real.
i am caught within a sticking web
of decaying sweetness,
coney island's cotton candy,
yet it is not a trap.
i am afraid of love
and that it holds me back.
i am afraid of love
because i am used to skin on skin,
when the drum beats meet.
i am afraid of love
because it is so far stretched
over these thousand miles,
that i fear it mig
i don't have the heart to call it summer lovewe drank sparkling wateri don't have the heart to call it summer love in Free Verse More Like This
with the sun stripping us down
to our barest elements.
we were the wind,
two hearts in the air,
unanchored and set at sea.
you would wear your hat
loosely like a ribbon
of air on the top of your head,
and smile with your whole face;
you would imagine what i looked like
in only my underwear
until the next hour when your
your hands becoming excavation
shovels, revelling in discovery-
i had liked you best
when you were naked
on my bed,
head between your knees
as you caught your breath.
this was the last time
i felt good about you,
the last that it was safe
to sink myself into your arms.
i have realised this:
i love you,
but that is not enough.
i'll just embrace
the new space
put between us,
and all one thousand miles
that act like a membrane
between two fluids,
wanting little more
than to mesh
it fails to end me,
the paining i feel,
in my chest,
but i am unsure
sent out to sea,
went down in
schadenfreudei found loveschadenfreude in Free Verse More Like This
in your bone structure,
with your soul worn across your lips.
you remind me of the sunshine
i lost in the circles
i left behind
to find someone an ocean
i am here,
watching the birds take flight
from the edges of your mouth,
watching their wings curl
with every word
strained with an accent
owned by my ancestors
born on ships.
i want you to tell me again
about the times
you found a purity in his eyes,
the blank skin upon which
they were set like jewels
and those when
you grinned cheekily
when i told you how
you really were.
i find myself wishing,
which brings paperweights
to my ankles as i
swim the seas,
that the water in which
i am sinking
would part for the benefit
of my heart;
that your contagion
would not touch me;
nonfiction love songi am eaten by the sunnonfiction love song in Free Verse More Like This
holes worn in my clothes
from the radiation,
burning a hole
in my stomach
as harsh as the acid
ebbing and flowing,
around the isles
of my teeth.
like an old sweater,
i am unravelling by my threads;
into the butterflies
they could have been,
the very same
as you and me.
now that i have put you
inside of this jar,
chrysalis sticking fragile
to the copper lid,
you have become
someone i could love.
i hold you like a lamb,
tight to my chest
so that my air
is your air,
and our breaths hit
the same measures.
we are synchronising
the beats of our hearts
to the metronome
of swaying emotion.
when you arrive,
and when you leave,
remember me still.
and will continue to
as long as i live
but who can call
the culling songi watch the clock shift,the culling song in Free Verse More Like This
its hands sinking like ships.
every notch in its rope
lowered into the sea of time,
i realise i spend
most of my time
thinking of dying.
i'm going to kill myself.
please stop laughing,
it's only going to make me
do it faster.
and it goes like this:
you pour your hips into mine
and i hold your bones together
like an eggcup of wine.
truth is i fell apart years ago
and you're only talking to
the fragments of a human now.
i feel you on an airplane,
pushing its way into the sky
as a baby does from its womb.
you're leaving me behind
on crumbling ground,
faster than even you
could have dreamed.
i become an ant,
a segmented being
divided in three-
where i am,
where you are,
where we were.
and it goes like this:
you leave me like dirt
under your fingernails,
and i hope it makes you sad
to drive down my street
to see my house
empty of me.
i want it to make you ache,
like your concerns
for yourself over me
what happens is this:
i dream as a lion.i used to dream about sinking into the ocean. i used to dream about going up in flames and finding redemption in the way that the ash fell from my hands. now, when i dream, i think about the way that passion used to light my veins. i think about the pain that pinched my limbs and the cramps that woke me screaming in the middle of the night. i dream about the agony - the way i would stare at the sun and call it living. the way that i called each bleeding wound life and each burned palm passion.i dream as a lion. in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
i was the girl that swallowed the world and spit up the ocean. i remember the way that the mountains scraped my throat and the slaughter of the world settling into the pit of my belly. i remember the bitterness hitting the back of my throat and the way that even when i doubled over, even when i screamed out, even when i hit my knees that i was crying hallelujah. the way that the world was brighter for the pain and the way that i believed the only way i could see was when i was saltwate
it's not enough.i will never regret running into the freeway.it's not enough. in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
if i am gasping for air, pressing my palms against my chest, holding myself together, you will never find me wishing i hadn't done it. if i am sticking my fingers in my sides to staunch the bleeding, limping down gravel roads, barefoot and wild-eyed, you will only see me grimace and smile. tell you it was a hell of a ride. tell you when that car collided with my kneecaps, i tasted heaven in the wind yanked from my lungs.
and you won't ever find me lamenting jumping into the fire.
if i am smoldering and smoking, licking charcoal-lips and spitting out ash, you will never once hear me whispering it would have been better if i hadn't. if i am beating out my own flames, stitching my own sides up, holding my own hand, you will only watch me grit my teeth and laugh. tell you that it was like having my bones dance. tell you that when the fire licked around my torso, i knew what it meant to be alive.
because i know, someday i'm going to find someone
we're breaking fate.i'm crying but there are no tears; i'm laughing but there is no sound.we're breaking fate. in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
music is playing but i can't cage the beat. i'm just sitting in the middle of a wind storm and counting the seconds to sleep. counting the seconds until i fly. counting the seconds until i can see your face again. because your mouth is like whiskey and i'm always under the influence whenever you're around. ohoh, if i had the words, i'd give them all to you in a beat of my stuttering heart. because you always know that everything i want is everything you have and everything i have is already yours.
i can't keep myself from you. i can't keep myself from the flames but i'm going down swinging. i'm going down hard. i'm too close to the fire and too far from the heat. i'm dancing a million miles a minute trying to get your attention but you're too far away to see and i'm sweating blood and bleeding sweat and i just want to be where you are.
remember when we were thirteen? we had hot, dirty hands and innocent eyes and dan
and when i live.i am sleeping in the middle of wheat fields.and when i live. in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
i am curled into the soil with the sun filtering through my eyelids and the warmth of the earth pressed against my hip. i am holding my stomach with gentle hands, lips parted to breathe in the sweet air. i am dreaming of feathers running down my spine and of blowing bubbles while running down sloping hills. i am dreaming of kisses at dawn and hands cradling my cheek and laughing over coffee with my best friend.
and when i wake, i am tranquil and serene and peaceful.
and when i wake, i am alive.
i am swimming in the belly of the ocean.
i am twisting in the clever hands of her currents, my hair roping around my waist and seashells trailing up my thigh. i am swallowing saltwater and rinsing out my lungs, letting my sins filter through my skin and disperse into the curling water. i am breathing through gills around my throat and letting my fingers paint symphonies in the seaweed. i am dancing with starbright scales and forgetting the weight of
what if i forgot_cwhat if i lost youwhat if i forgot_c in Free Verse More Like This
amongst sea weed
and wheat fields
and what if field
through my ear drums
and caressed my memory
with your words.
[what if i was to whisper sweet nothings
in your ear until you lost your feet and
floated instead? what if i grabbed your hand
and pulled it through my chest, let you push
aside my ribs and get lost in me?]
what if i taught you
how to love and how
to cry and how to
express your emotions
like cyanide sinking
through teeth, and filing
into your pink gums.
[what if i pulled you inside out and painted
the backside of your skin with coral and wind
and heartache? what if i swallowed your lips
and filled my lungs with your butterfly kisses?]
what if i taught sea
creatures to sing
represent your soul
and stream down your
cheeks and cover your
eyelashes with beauty.
[what if for a moment you melted and cried
and wanted with every cell of my body until you
knew what it meant to feel as i do? what if you
start earthquakes.run, darling, run. run to thestart earthquakes. in Free Verse More Like This
river and let the moon
bring down a milky glow
that reminds you of home.
run down the railroad
tracks and let them tell
you stories of echoing
desolation and the women
who once gave it all for
men who didn't even know
their names. run into the
ocean and fill your
lungs with saltwater
until you're choking
tsunamis and memories and
salvation up onto the
shore. run through the
hurricane until the wind
tastes like wisdom and
your tongue still rejects
the bitter aftertaste.
run away from things you
thought you once knew and
the people who let you
believe you knew them. run
away from the cliff edge
because you won't look so
beautiful when you're
red gravel under curious
heels. run until your lungs
are smoldering and the only
sound you can make is a
war cry through chapped,
sing and run and shed
your old skin like a
fight and run and breathe
through cracked ribs.
it's written in your veins.it's twelve to midnight when i frown with my eyes, forty-eight past sanity when i smile with my lips. as i'm standing in the ocean, waist-deep in murky thoughts, toes dug in coral i arch my neck and watch the stars burn like hellfire. i imagine that they burn in me too, that somewhere buried behind my lungs or stuck between my ribs, stars are smoldering. i splay my hands on my chest and i can feel the heat, each individual fire warming my palms until the milky way starts melting through my pores. the galaxies are filtering through my skin, strewn across the top of constellation-water and in comet-tail whispers they say:it's written in your veins. in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"i'd like to save you, i'd like to think i could, but my breath's busy breaking down the ozone layer
and my darling, my dear, i'm sorry but you're just going to have to wait."
my lungs are turning inside out and my spine is an aging willow that's falling to meet the aquatic embrace. i imagine life is a metaphor and i'm just a run-down adjective trying to keep up.
dear t, love m_cDear M, I used to wonder if the collision of our skin would be the ignition of rapidfire passions, the birth of brilliant starlight in the cold of loneliness, of suffocating space. I used to imagine that the heat of your breath would spill across my tongue, and reignite the cold ashes in my lungs. I used to hope that the sway of my skeleton and the clacking of my bones could be a rhythm you would stay around and dance to. I used to dream of us on moonlit beaches, sleeping on the waves and swimming through the sand. I used to do a lot of things, but your shiver-up-my-spine smile tends to drag my thoughts out to quieter seas.dear t, love m_c in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Dear T, I used to imagine my bones were fractured and chipped in all the wrong ways. I used to think my heart was a poison my body kept rejecting, leaving me on my hands and knees spitting up old relationships, lies and heartache all over my carpet late at night. I used to look at the sun and wish myself blind, stare at the ocean and wish myself ten thousand le
i can't see the sky.i hate the word lonely.i can't see the sky. in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
it dries out my mouth like i had tried to swallow tumbleweeds, it scratches the back of my throat like i'm trying to regurgitate memories from an empty stomach. it leaves me sitting in the middle of an empty room and wishing the ceiling would cave in because then at least i'd be able to watch the stars.
instead i'm just laying on top of the covers pretending to count them in the drywall and imagining what it would feel like to have your arm behind the curve in my neck. instead i'm closing my eyes and listening to the suction in my veins because i am hollow and caving in. i keep painting you with rich, lush adjectives, but you're just a cardboard pipe dream that falls flat and leaveleaveleaves me without air.
i keep spending my nights sketching your eyes on the ceiling, but i still can't see the moon.
and you know, i keep my hands busy during the day to ignore the faint shaking they do when i know they want to be holding yours. i keep my mouth talking to ignore t
consider this just one more.i need you to stop needing me.consider this just one more. in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
you don't know, but you're living a lie. you're closing your eyes and pretending i'm something i'm not. you're pretending i'm lovely and stable and precious. you're pretending i'm returning this kiss.
you're breathing down my neck and twisting my hair between your fingers, saying we could be something beautiful if i would just slow down. you're swearing we could be a sundust and milky way love story if i would just stop running away all the time.
you're calling me baby, you're calling me darling, you're trying to hold my hand and ignoring the fact that i'm shaking with anxiety. your salty lips keep misfiring and landing on my jaw, your greedy fingers keep tearing my coattails apart.
can't you see? i'm a mistake that you're trying to rearrange into something lyrical, a disaster that you're trying to pretend is miraculous. when really i'm anything but.
in reality i'm knocking down vases and ripping the mona lisa in half, i'm tripping down the stairs and cra
Snippy - Poem of DoomSnippy - Poem of Doom in Free Verse More Like This
Oh Captain, my Captain! I say it to mock,
You're lucky as hell but to me you're a c***.
Please spare me the missions, I've no head for heights,
Balloons and big lists lead me only to blights.
Evading the probes of an alien race,
Then having to witness your > : ( angry face...
But what choice have I? I'm involved in these fights,
With Cancerous space-monsters full of red sprites,
And Lemonade weirdos and God knows what next,
Just how can you stay so serene and unvexed?
What price should I pay for your simple delights,
Be eaten by whales after soiling my whites?
I know you won't listen, but you'll come unstuck,
And one of these days you'll run right out of luck,
Your empire will fall, and your ego besides,
It's karma for sure, like the turn of the tides,
And then I will lol, sitting in my own muck,
Coz after all this I just won't give a f***.
before the kissbefore the kissbefore the kiss in Free Verse More Like This
breath tumbling from
parted lips like
easy mist rolling
over rocks in
the waves one
moon pulls forward
people for a moment like
planets closing on
tension for only
a second while
between them generations
of warring arise
pulled by the cosmos
closer to this pout
as a frozen
dance with leg
extended and quivering
on fractions above
a canyon of a floor
pressing on new air
refusing to collapse
as a mass of bony letters
challenges the bumpy road
to pull them from an open car
speeding curving hills spewing
gravel off the bridge to
hasty water beneath
dragging the haunted heels of
a summer almost finished
without this kiss while
grasping the haste it
needs to land and
bury for some
other side of
before it dies
so instead you pull
away and let those
syzygyweed fills the garage andsyzygy in Free Verse More Like This
girls with whom you used to
drink half-beers with
now have tipsy pride and
are, like bad records,
unable to leave a room.
the moon is half empty
but at his word it holds beauty
just like any bookworm,
church mouse, or
band nerd falling
in the arms of syzygy.
they are paper in the winter wind
and they smell of the bedtime novel
your nostalgia spins.
or perhaps you read alone
and the stars, they're old
as the wallpaper in the dining room
your family eats at Christmas.
when suddenly you remember
"syzygy" means eclipse.
then the red bulbs gleaming
in that mighty pine
appear as vivid as the blood
pooled in daybreak bathrooms.
before the tree you may fall,
kissing the rotting wood
as a child you were splintered by
and below the nativity;
confess your naivety.
tomorrow, you will breathe.
you will also forget
because no one ever reads
their wrists from silent nights.
blue house and gravesgoodnight and i breathe outblue house and graves in Free Verse More Like This
shutting my eyes
to images of
stormy theme parks;
a solemn grin
my fingers to
and lets go.
we're pacing down
a broken hill, green
though i have little doubt
you're losing me
the trail past the graves
is somehow screaming
and we can both feel
the blue house
a curve ahead.
there's a picket fence.
i've never been here with
open eyes, open the
vibration of my cells
that knows this place
in some life
(maybe past-life or a
half-life yet to come)
this place never
let me go.
but then why are you here
with your dozing eyes and
careful lips, holding
my hand but
not going inside.
is this wrong or
are you saving me?
the appleto my creators i smilethe apple in Free Verse More Like This
for hiding my apple to bite.
for in years to come
never will a full night
be a sin. so goes
this gift i live captive in.
soon, ill be begging
to get the same adrenaline.
wet suburban streets and
hungry faces eating
a Korean angel sings
and every girl wishes
he played her guitar.
like he played,
not to me,
but my guitar.
because my songs are
the hardwood etchings
my heels bleed and
the black music
a guilty conscience leaves.
i swear, for suffocating
i sure know how to breathe.
social .collabsocial .collab in Free Verse More Like This
he says stereos spit
because it's their job-
steel prisons to the songs
girls love, boys lust from
or pound hammers to
cinder blocks like
with their lungs.
drinking with their
arms enslaved to
so he pulls his shoes on.
starts taking steps
towards a hangover
sounds like a
storm rising, he says
sounds like three am
and no morning
sounds like the skeleton
in my flesh is growing
he eats a porch light
with his eyes becoming
smaller in the moonlight
bending to follow
his words to the mirror
to the sink
when he gets there.
my old friendsmy old friendsmy old friends in Free Verse More Like This
are asleep, sucking on
dreams of national
neurosis and taxi cabs
nostalgic of cobble stoned
in the club
somebody jokes about
a white bear and
his frozen beach.
we're sitting on jellyfish
dying the seas purple
bruises of the clean sky
pastel umbrellas and
and every scientist of
our tribe wants hearty
breasts and pin legs
bending like wet cardboard
on a wire fence-
sticking their beaks
between a culture's stomach
and mother's hair.
this pale sort of dust
stirs in a hallway with
floors seeming to tilt and
sink, no sound but
parts moving and heads
in the maze of lightning
is a low and rumbling,
a chorus of
shut-eyed bulls mouthing
all the spiritmodestly thaw deepall the spirit in Free Verse More Like This
now the shade
the lake, the moon
all its margins:
in an empty house
for weary hands,
for the ghost,
all the spirit:
fairgroundon a fairgroundfairground in Free Verse More Like This
the orange trees
in the lamplight
like a movie set
with no director
and so many writers
not in the shot
so life is a whole lot
like a carnival game
shooting for prizes you'd
never thought you'd want
then the nursing home hallways
smell like piss and you
always choose talk
over card games but
it's another day
of the woman next door
screaming in pain
which is hard
since you're screaming with her
every moment you are both
living and dying
which is all of them
all the paychecks broke and
borrowed. all the jobs
you kept and didn't keep.
all the epiphanies when
you suddenly realise you
only need to be
rich enough for coffee.
all the newspapers
soaked in the street and
the benches on which
you'd read. all the restrooms
you'd cry in or
throw up in or
stumble out of on your knees
until you fall asleep.
every diet you'd read
in all the magazines and
stick to religiously
for two and a half
all of them
when i look in the mirror.one.when i look in the mirror. in Other More Like This
things you touch turn silent.
hearts can be blacked, burnt, ashy - but you take the ashes and burn, burn, burn them until there's only a memory left, a memory that's all edges and icicles.
you leave me cold, empty and
i don't want to breathe anymore.
'darling, you would do well to remember-
you can't have a light at the end of the tunnel
if you have no tunnel.
darling, you would do well to remember -
you are not empty. you are not empty.
[it's still hurting, after all. it's still hurting
and you don't want to live,
but you're not empty.]
darling, you would do well to remember-
they love you. they love you,
they love you.
even if you're not sure why.'
you wish gravity would hurry up and take you.
maybe then you'd finally crash, instead of falling all the time.
maybe then it'd be over.
there is a war in your eyes, a fight for survival, a will to breathe, live, smile again.
you miss the laughter and the light you used to have. you miss making people smile.
we're all glass bottles.1.we're all glass bottles. in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
somewhere, there is a superhero meant for me, clad in a black cape and hope, adrenaline jumping in iron veins.
we could be a racing river, and no dam could ever hold us in. we could be a fire that no one could put out (i'd be the ashes if he'd be the flame), or maybe even a gust of wind that no wall could ever stop.
maybe we could live in a cave, away from the noise and pain, or maybe we'd live in the clouds and eat dreams all day. maybe we could catch fireflies and pray for the lights to stay lit another moment, just so we could finally hang onto something.
maybe i'd learn to bottle my fears and doubts - and then, maybe, i'd break the bottles and everything they hold. maybe i'd close my eyes and find comfort in the silence, or maybe he'd teach me it's okay not to fly. maybe he'd teach me how to be happy on the ground.
somewhere, there is a superhero meant for me;
but it's a shame he's not here.
it's a shame he'll never save me.
the sky is empty tonight, just like my heart.
fair grading.rain rain you went awayfair grading. in Free Verse More Like This
come back and flush me down the drain.
i sat in the middle of the road and my mind's in a drought
i've got the carcasses of words baking in harsh artificial light within me.
[i slur my words, but don't think it's because i've been drinking
i just don't know how to bring myself to say anything to you.]
we're walking down the street, puddles lit by street lights.
there are rainbows in the cement cracks, and your words are sparkling with magic.
'this is where dreams live,' you tell me.
'this is where dreams live.'
[if this is a dream, then i must be snow white, and not even your kiss can wake me up.]
twinkle twinkle little star
your explosion burnt my heart,
i'm collecting galaxies and dust in my jackets,
purely because she's no longer around to wear them when she gets cold.
i think my sinuses are extrapolating a long night from tissues, flaked into what i know
what i can't remember and what i can't forget.
we give our hearts suitcases
and tell them to just l
because i am a cynic today.todaybecause i am a cynic today. in Free Verse More Like This
you give yourself
with rain; a sign
we are fifteen minutes
out of town,
but we say
out of luck
to a map
(but it can never be
we are still
we will not find god here.
a poem about your skin.you are covereda poem about your skin. in Free Verse More Like This
by land, a lithosphere,
a continent sprinkled
with snow. i watch
off your surface, leak
into cracks. i name
your freckles after cities,
your eyes after oceans. you
are a world, my world, but this
is only a layer.
the ways we destroy ourselves.one.the ways we destroy ourselves. in Free Verse More Like This
we were silences stretched out,
lingering in the pitter-patter of muffled
heartbeats. we were broken glass
digging into too-fragile lungs, we were
the shaking of the nervous earth beneath
our feet. we were bitter unforgiveness and
the screams of the world around us, we were
empty spaces, we were
everything but beautiful.
happiness is on vacation.
life is a sidewalk, he told me. life is a sidewalk,
and regret and pain and tears are the cracks,
and sometimes, he tells me,
sometimes, you can't fill them.
there's a shatter in the next room, a broken
breath, a shaking in the bones.
we're all broken,
darling, but some of us are empty, some of us
are just dead inside.
and nothing can wake us up anymore.
death is not knocking on my door;
i'm knocking on his.
dear self,1.dear self, in Free Verse More Like This
tomorrow is not worth waiting for.
sure, there will be sunshine (with
a slight chance of rain) and sure,
some kid will be smiling, and yes,
life is still
but it's not like anyone cares.
you just want someone to love you,
misery and tears and all. maybe you
could spend saturdays curled up
under the covers, memorizing
the patterns of breathing. maybe
you could count the seconds but
the problem is that there would never
be enough, the problem is that
there's nothing there to love.
no one is listening.
i'd write you a letter, but
you'd never read it. i'm stuck
screaming into my own heart,
wondering if anything is in there
anymore, wondering if
this is even worth it.
wake up, self.
you want to force fingers
down your throat just to cause
self-destruction, you want
to suffocate yourself (it's
easier than breathing), you want
to sleep and never wake up, you
want to find your dreams and destroy
every one of them.
you want to die.
encephalitis.she asks, "is it weird to have one day where you really intensely, for no good reason, think of a dead person?"encephalitis. in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
the intercom was the one to announce that his body had finally given up. i don't remember what i was wearing that day, or how my hair looked, or what noises fell out of my mouth. death has dulled the sharp edges within me. this is what i do know: some people burst into tears and some people sat frozen and pale and some people simply got up and left the room.
"are you okay?" someone asked me, and i found that i was lying on the floor, though i couldn't understand how i'd gotten there. the overhead lights were buzzing and humming, or maybe it was just my heart. confused, i sat up quickly and let the blood rush to my head in one glorious fell swoop.
"are you okay?" they asked again, and i said yes, yes, i am okay. i am alive. i have to be okay. the linoleum is still cold against my cheek and i can still see i am alive i am okay i am okay i am okay.
but sometimes i wish i had t
borderline nostalgic.i used to stand in the middle of the railroad track on sundays, one foot on either side of the county border line, just so i could tell you that i was in two places at once.borderline nostalgic. in Free Verse More Like This
you would shake your head in that disapproving, familiar way, and tell me that no one could be in two places at once, and besides, standing on railroad tracks was illegal, and i had better watch it or else i was liable to get ticketed.
i informed you that wanting to live a little was not illegal.
the day you died i rode full speed down the nearby hill with my bare legs on the handlebars of my mother's bike, the sun shining full in my eyes. i swear to god my hands lifted off the handlebars and flew away, and to this day i still can't find them, but you, you know where they are.
i got a ticket for walking on those railroad tracks and two weeks ago i rode down that hill remembering you, and when i crashed at the bottom i thought i felt you hold my hand.
but no one can be in two places at once.
the soccer game.the thing is, i needthe soccer game. in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
the deer to mean something.
i go to the soccer game and smile
and nod while something furious
inside of me is screaming.
a deer appears while the sun
is setting and it's like a scene
from a movie: green grass and gold rays
that spread out, tingeing our feet
with one last bit of wednesday.
everyone watches the deer and makes
noises of appreciation and i look
around and i think to myself
"okay, this is it, i am happy."
the deer is watching me and i try
to decide if it's a metaphor.
i want the deer to be death, see,
to represent fucking or blacking
out or apathy or loneliness.
someone does something heroic
with a soccer ball and i watch
my hands clap together over and over.
okay, or maybe the deer is supposed
to be happy. maybe the deer
represents attending social
events and sitting with people.
maybe the deer means that
i'm ready to let go.
the girl beside me looks over
and asks if i've written any poems
lately. (that's all she knows of me,
that i write poems and
Thank You, Slater.I used to go to the nearby campus coffee shop in the early evenings, armed with a pen, a blank notebook, and writer's block. The sense of loneliness was unspoken but well accounted for.Thank You, Slater. in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I always shared coffee-counterspace with the same boy, who never smiled or talked and who had a penchant for bedhead and argyle sweaters. He liked to lean back on his stool, balancing precariously as he read novels, and I liked to pretend I wasn't watching him watch me. We coexisted in quiet companionship, thrived quietly under fluorescent lighting which sometimes caught his thick-framed glasses.
His novels changed while my notebook remained the same; his dogeared copies of The Sound and the Fury and Animal Farm distracted me as I doodled stars on blank pages, waiting for something that could not be explained.
It was raining. I remember that. His glasses fogged up when he walked in, his tousled black hair dripped water on my elbow.
"Why don't you ever write in your notebook?" he asked, turning to me w
stop ruining autumn.listen:stop ruining autumn. in Free Verse More Like This
fall makes me think of leaving and of apple cider, though i never liked apple cider.
but i liked the idea of it.
two years ago i met a boy as fragile as dead leaves who called me his little spring girl. (i'd always liked autumn the best.) he kissed the two soft dimples on the small of my back and told me helikedme helovedme hewantedme.
and oh, by the way, "everything good must come to an end."
on our one year anniversary we picked out two pumpkins and i drew elephants on them for us to carve. he cut his out so aggressively that it lost its shape.
lopped off tusks and broken trunks became just a large, jagged hole.
he put a lit candle inside, and we watched it flicker, illuminating the raw edges.
"what is it supposed to be?" i asked him, taking his hand.
"my heart," he said definitively.
like an afterthought.
after that i was too afraid to carve my pumpkin at all.
the leaves changed, or maybe he changed, or maybe i was b
9.7i am but a weary passenger9.7 in Free Verse More Like This
might be missing me -
can tell whether this is just a famine
or an infestation,
it's strange how that works -
maybe you are lying beside me
or above me
but i am suffocating -
not one of those things that
you can forget
easily, not quite like -
tigers in cagesthere's a leopard under my stomachtigers in cages in Free Verse More Like This
and a boy above my back, feral creatures
marking my peripheries.
everything is made of hands slipping,
curling, gripping my thighs, of
cold glass on my forehead,
of two sets of bent knees and too much
confined heat and...
there's a blue gleam from the front seat
that reveals sweat on my spine and dark
curls sticking to my shoulders.
the moon comes and this space is crowded,
secret, shrouded by not-quite-midnight,
by four locked doors,
by one wild cat licking at my stomach,
and one who kisses my neck.
absencesbut this isn't just distanceabsences in Free Verse More Like This
as in space, not just distance as in
"i can't believe how far you
are from me, i miss you" -
this isn't just distance
in the way
that roads seem to spill over
hilltops for years,
stretching like skin across knuckles
but never ending,
this is the kind of distance
that isn't seen but instead felt,
that isn't marked by miles
or gas money and can't be pinned in two
spots on a map with red thumbtacks:
this is not hearing from you
and knowing you haven't noticed.
this is wanting to have you
and knowing you're just fine
this is the kind of distance
that knows broken bridges, that hurts
because it feels
like it can't be mended, and because
11 3i've been sitting under11 3 in Free Verse More Like This
the same tree for days and now
the leaves are leaving and now
the bark is peeling and
is this what they talk about
when the sparks all flicker
i've been stoned enough
times to be called a martyr and
my mind's been getting hazy
how do they expect me to answer
all these prayers?
i'm not a saint, i've just got
no grasp on sin.
Girl as Buildingi fell in love with your architectureGirl as Building in Free Verse More Like This
the cross beams of your cartilage
how your tendons knotted over nerves
like girders, holding up your arms
and the supple curve of neck
a room unto itself
the doors and windows of you
and each brick a voice
that resonates my mortar
the simple stairs of your legs
leading me skyward
where shoulders meet like corridors
and I find myself
taking up residence.