The Dream That Never WasI will not be here long dear, but I have to knowThe Dream That Never Was in Free Verse More Like This
Are your eyes always such a melancholy green?
All faded and weathered, drained and worn
You say you have troubles,
My dear boy,
Do you know?
You are not alone
As the rain cascades down your window
And the thunder shakes your splintered floorboards
I sing you a soft lullaby
Timidly, I touch your hair
Day-old stubble lightly grazes my fingertips
And I watch you breathe
I hear you sigh
You whisper that I am beautiful
And I almost believe you
You tell me you're so tired,
So exhausted that you could close your melancholy eyes
And sleep, sleep forever
Because wakefulness seems a misuse of time
Of precious dreaming
My darling boy,
Do you not know?
You are a dream
MothMy dear, I was never your butterfly,Moth in Free Verse More Like This
I was simply a moth that wished she was beautiful...
Sunkissed Rain"Impossible." She says.Sunkissed Rain in Free Verse More Like This
[We're lying in the grass looking up at a blue sky. I shift myself so I can look at her].
"That you're here right now--with me."
[I just stare at her, unsure of where she is going with this. And then I remember I should say something before she gets a chance to ask me why I am not saying anything].
"Oh, um, why is that so impossible?" I smile.
"Because, you're you and I'm me. It doesn't make sense."
[At this point, I'm trying to keep it cool, I've heard girlfriends say some really strange things at times. And this is one of those times].
"I don't think I understand." I tell her, still smiling.
"Well, we're so different. You're like the sun, always bright and cheery. You only see the good in every situation--but me, I'm like the rain. I make everything dreary and gray. I'm prone to being pessimistic, and I have a massive rain cloud hanging over my head at all times. How can you stand to be around me, when I can't even stand myself?"
Dear SerendipityYou are a word so closely fused with fate, destiny, chance, and sometimes loveDear Serendipity in Free Verse More Like This
The most beautiful word I know
Is it possible not to fear an unknowable future?
Perhaps life is not about knowing, but rather about finding outdiscovering
Maybe it's hints of surprising, unforeseen, partly inevitable circumstances that test our limits of comfort
Tell me, is love properly defined as two lost people thrown together by chance?
Or could it be that they were always meant to find each other?
Did some divine, other-worldly force reach down and gently place these lives on the same path?
Or is it simply destiny that caused these two souls to meet?
What if I choose the wrong way?
Will I spend the rest of my days wondering and imagining what my life would have been?
Or will I move on, as if nothing ever slowed me down in the first place?
Too many questions, not enough answers
I believe there are things that can never be explained
Fate is a mysterious, frightening, yet exciting concept
We all desi
Something Loved Something LostYou told me once, that you were never sure if you really loved something until you lost it.Something Loved Something Lost in Free Verse More Like This
[Did that include me?]
I don't think you really lost me, though--I lost you.
I lost the only person that made sense in my life, the only one who knew more about me than myself.
I lost my world.
And it wasn't until it completely stopped spinning that I noticed anything was different.
[You had me fooled, didn't you?]
Remember the way I laughed when you told me I was beautiful?
I laughed because I didn't believe you.
But I also laughed out of pure joy--I had never felt so alive in my life as I had in that one moment.
That's the kind of girl I am, you see.
I am a girl who can find a million beautiful things about everyone else, but nothing even remotely good about herself.
It's a disease really.
One that's out to kill me.
Because not everything about every person is beautiful.
You are living proof of that.
[So, why then my dear, do I still love you?]
mad worldyou know what hurts?mad world in Free Verse More Like This
filling your head with ideas and fantasies of a perfect love and dreams come true...
and finding out that just because you wish on stars, doesn't mean those burning orbs of gas even hear you.
what hurts is knowing that your world is falling apart.
that it is crumbling away, piece by piece...
and no matter how hard you try, you can't put it pack together, because the "fix instantly" glue won't stick.
what kills me is this need to be someone, to change something...
but never knowing exactly where to start.
i know where to begin.
i need to change myself before i can truly accomplish anything else.
the problem is, i'm so used to being me
that i'm unsure of how to be someone else.
or maybe i got that all wrong.
perhaps i'm so used to being someone else,
that i don't know how to be "me" anymore
it's almost a habit to pretend that the girl i see in the mirror every day is me.
she has my eyes, and my hair
and sometimes, she even wears my smile.
but there's something
all or nothingdear boy,all or nothing in Free Verse More Like This
the last letter i wrote you was last year.
that year i was still in love with you. it took me 5 months to delete you off facebook. 8 to delete digits. a year to delete every message. but memories, no time could erase.
i loved you like i didn't even know how.
this year, the girl you were seeing hurt you, so you broke her. she had onyx hair and ivory skin. strong grey eyes and a kindred spirit. you two were really happy. but then the cracks started showing and she couldn't fill them. couldn't fill you. you left her corrupted. i saw you in the mall and your eyes were dead. i didn't recognize you until i looked at you 3 times.
a year ago, you were with a long legged girl. she had fair skin and fair hair, with baby blues. she liked to wear short skirts and dream of other people, but you loved her. you loved her hard, with everything you had. she took everything, smiled, and left.
and a long time ago, you gave your heart to a girl that looked a little like myself. and you held her
truthi like to sittruth in Free Verse More Like This
on my pile of secrets
i don't have any at all
under-eye lilieshe tastes like cigarettes and something musky,under-eye lilies in Free Verse More Like This
a pinch of boy and a bit of man,
the top of a chocolate mocha.
it's his life
and she says, she thinks:
'i'll end up pitying myself'
but it's weird because she'll take him
he counts her bruises,
'you have one here' he grazes her hip,
'and there, and there'
down her body length, legs, kneecap,
miscounted the two forming
between her thighs.
she pulls the blanket up to her chest
he hooked his fingers into her belt loops
and grabbed the belt, fumbling strings,
none of which he had
he said he didn't like her belt.
because it was hard to take off.
he talks like an open book,
eyes like nobody's business
and a smile that would be
all it should be, if only,
unlike her, he takes the warnings
that he sends himself.
any smart boy would stay away from
her. being trapped inside her
would be comparable to being struck
by a lousy life.
she lets her walls fall like snow,
winter's almost over, but his heart
secondthe only reason she stays awake until the early lightssecond in Free Verse More Like This
is to make sure the alcohol doesn't sink into his body
and shut it down
even though it's already killed his mind
she sits and waits for him to reply
even something that resembles alphabet soup is okay.
it means he's breathing.
breathing that smoke.
smoking that hash.
'let me introduce you to someone'
she should have ran away from a collapsing disaster,
but she smiles instead, raises her drink
and her rain coloured eyes do all the talking from
he's close to bipolar.
sometimes snapping smiles,
sometimes snapping her smiles.
things just go down
down his lips
down his neck
down until she's lower than him
he's got tragedy painted in his foggy eyes.
she's trying to save them.
and the twisted soul she convinced herself he had.
focus on his problems to distract her from hers.
the dreams start flying out the windows.
she's the brightest he could ever light but he's lighting
the joints instead.
whispers.shhh. no one has to know the truth, but us.whispers. in Free Verse More Like This
so you promised me everything, and i did trust.
but the way things went, your smile, it rust.
and now what are we, but a memory in dust?
so stop already.
sparksyou never want to tell peoplesparks in Free Verse More Like This
that you went looking for the
love of your life
and couldn't find them
i've been out of this game
for too long
yet i'm determined to win
at something you shouldn't
even play at
you go down smoother than
tequila and burn harder
if i was an alcoholic,
i'd be drunk off you
and high off your mind
it's always a blur
when it gets late
and i come running
because i find
comfort in the
i don't believe in
and we know
we aren't perfect
but God knows
can i use you as
an excuse to go to bed
happy for now?
ever aftermy mother hasn't told me she loved meever after in Free Verse More Like This
since i can't remember if she ever
i used to write about silver things and magic strings
that tied hearts and eyes and stars to your sins
i wrote a song for you
pink and raw, cut and purple
i'm inside drowning myself
i'm kinda sad
but i'm still okay
funny how things grow
i've been burning the life out of myself
worse than the muses wasting their talents
on heavy smoke
you stood there,
while i watched
and it was late
but i already knew
that no matter how much i bled myself
it wouldn't let the poison out
it wouldn't let me breathe
so afraid of the little things
that i got homesick of feelings
and overdosed on emptiness
in the pit of my stomach,
i thought i had nothing
but i had hope in my pandora
box and although i can barely
function in this little disaster
casing, i know
there's a reason
i live through missed calls
and broken-hearts mending
unplanned shocks and protective
but deep deep down
i'm still me
i will al
every little wish.a couple months back,every little wish. in Free Verse More Like This
you started me up on
and i did,
but every time
i'd wish i was
loose changethings that aren't fair:loose change in Free Verse More Like This
and you expect me
to give you my all
when you can't even let
i hurt you
by bringing up
i can't help it
because you're digging
what do you want?
for me to fight?
for me to fight for
someone like you?
for me to fight for someone
who already lost his strongest
that, isn't fair.
it isn't fair how
you know the right things to say
to get under my skin and expose
everything i pretend to ignore
it's not fair how
when i'm laying beside you
i feel safe
like nothing can get me
not even myself
i act naive
because i don't want to
deal with the fact that
you are tied to her like
a sailor's knot
and you won't ever care
if i'm your anchor
it's not fair because i've
wanted you so bad
for so long
and now i have you
i'm not sure if i'm
strong enough to hold on
i can't talk to you
because my walls are ten feet
but you wouldn't speak
because yours are eleven
and we're just at a stand still
forgive menot all apologies are receivedforgive me in Free Verse More Like This
so you gotta pull a tswift sometimes
and write them a song or poem
in the smallest hope they'll at least
i was a case of myself
and so burnt out that
i instantly hated anyone
that loved me
but i know
it doesn't justify
when that one
person was the one
friend who didn't
that one person
was your knight
and always had
a listening ear
i don't keep anyone close
i don't know how
and i'm mainly scared to
i didn't mean to leave you
that winter night
but i was selfish
and just wanted to be
it's not even guilt i
it's not sadness
it's not anger
butterfly girls get burntWhen I was a 12 year old munch-kin of a boybutterfly girls get burnt in Free Verse More Like This
And didn't understand the world one bit
My mother made a skirt for my sister
She wasn't very handy with a needle and thread
Or with scissors and fabric but she did oh-so want
My sister to have that skirt that she asked for
So she took measurements oh-so precise and
Cut fabric oh-so carefully and then she
Made each stitch with love and care
Until it came the day that it was done
And she gave it to my sister who put it on
And cried because it was too-too short
And she said it made her look like a slut
The kind that daddy ran away with
When I was three years old
She threw it at the wall and ran away
So my mother gave it to the girl next door
The girl that I had watched for years
With a yearning heart and an artist eyes
Because the way her eyes tilted and
The way her hair fell made her look
Like she was so sad and I wanted to know
What weight she carried that could
Make her look like that so that
I could make it all better
But I later learned tha
And years to goSummer's passed away like an obscure relativeAnd years to go in Free Verse More Like This
the kind that make you wonder if you can
ever truly know a person- just remember that
there could be a real chance with the next one.
Red welts are the precursors to the bruises which are
brought on by sudden halts or changes of direction,
for Autumn had always been a time of self-imposed changes
just as Winter shall inevitably become a time of reflection and
regret- a moment in which we may peer down at ourselves
stirring feelings of doubt and inadequacy, becoming
merely a grey cloud to witness the raging inner-storm.
Spring sweeps swiftly from the fringes of awareness
illuminating the mess left behind by the unkind seasons,
meanwhile, new growth springs from the bare ground uncovered by
caring fingers which tend the bitter seedling till it breathes anew.
My Rose Smells Like DeathHe bought me a roseMy Rose Smells Like Death in Free Verse More Like This
All red and bloody-thorned
Said "it's for my rose"
kissed me, and left me behind.
And i watched it die.
We are all just like roses,
cut from the source of life-
We may blossom, but still die.
I let it dry out till-
the petals grew brittle
and the stem blackened, dead.
Still a shadow of it's former self.
It no longer smells of beauty.
It smells of that peircing
sweet rotting that deceives.
It is not life,
it is not living.
It is simply death.
dirty little birdyher heart is a dirty little birddirty little birdy in Free Verse More Like This
singing lullabies through those
tiny little prison barred ribs
a song that's stitched all
together from string and
melodies from far off cradles
hummed by mothers who
will always be crying
no matter what
and then there are
the snatched notes from
cracked up music boxes
althogether we are
just a patchwork collection
and soft whispers of those
words you'll never know
and never forget in a
million broken years
even though you know you
haven't heard them before
she always says that
she never breaks banks
but the river flows inside
no matter what the weather
my dear, you see there's
more than tears to tradgedy
but the bird sings on
to spite itself while she
stands in rooms of mirrors
to confront the things that live
somewhere in the back of her mind
and they're hidden under all that hair
and somewhere between
her eyes and the back of her skull
but she still can't see them
no matter how hard she looks
and they think that maybe
we should be beside the sea side
diamond tearsShe was always so cold, like deepest night winterdiamond tears in Free Verse More Like This
So he gave her his jacket, the one that is
The same blue that sits on the edge of his irises
Then he turned her tears to diamonds
And told her to hang them all up in her
Bedroom window on silver strings because
Refracted glass rainbows were her favourite things
She blue-tacked up pieces of torn out paper
Filled with coloured crayons from a phone conversation
That she hung up on three weeks ago from today
That made her cry and she can't call back
And now they stare at her and she can't tell why
The invisible girl became poster girl for
Everything that no one else ever really was
But she was voted most likely to be
Voted most likely to kill the prom queen
And he swore that she would never
Have to look into the eyes of those
Who also wanted to died, ever again
Because it was hard enough seeing it
Every morning when she looked in the mirror
He swore that when they turned 18
She would never have to walk into that house again
And she cried ev
master-pieceSome said brilliantmaster-piece in Free Verse More Like This
One person trying to change the world
Others said insane
Another person on their way to destruction
Confused and alone she sat
Glowing with her broken beauty
A half piece heart and
Calling for a change
Escape from the norm
They left her all alone
And crying for answers
She needed something
And there he was
A twisted revolutionary
That would tear the world down
And build it again
With new eyes
A different beautiful
To the one that they knew
For the sake of the art
Unknown, his master
And she thought he was brilliant
That twisted mind was that of an artist
She missed the arts, her words
They once were her master
She was twisted as him
But not nearly as brilliant
Not nearly as insane
Sick but not revolutionary
Just sick, sad and lonely
A girl hiding behind her own twisted beauty
He thought that she could be
The biggest tragedy of all
There would be beauty
In her heart breaking downfa
ThanatourismWhat brings us to stand on the same groundThanatourism in Free Verse More Like This
where bare toes wriggled against cold bathroom tiles
and bodies pressed together dressed in sweat and dirt
who knows if they felt fear for being what they were
we can only imagine their last thoughts with their last breaths
What runs through minds standing on the grounded cityscape
where once men fell because they couldn't wait any longer
Can't you see, dust was overwhelming and the world watched
with the sick curiosity and anticipation of rubbernecks,
They slow down as they drive past daily car-crashes, tell me
Is it that we sympathise or we are questioning the validity
of this guilty feeling that comes with being left behind,
of living, and being allowed to wonder about life,
when will death next strike and how can we avoid it
because as much as it is powerful to stand there and feel
the weight of swift heavydeath aftermath we can't stand
the thought that it could have been us, or that oneday it might still be.
AnythingThey were there with the promise that all pain ceasesAnything in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Tiny flecks of metal barbs that cut me to pieces
Coursing in time with the beat of my heart
In trying to live, I only tear myself apart
So I relay my thoughts and I open my mind
But the answer, seemingly, only gets harder to find
Hanging there just beyond my hopeless grip
And I try to hold on, but I'm starting to slip
Then I look and I see something worth living for
Such a shock that I shake and I just can't ignore
There are feeling there are thoughts and sometimes even words
But try as I might I only end up moving downwards
Look up to the light and it's enough to make me cry
Because I know no matter what that I'm someday gonna die
And I'll probably go before I ever can achieve
Some semi balance of happiness, so maybe I should leave
Before I can go and hurt anybody else
And when I think about you I want to kill myself
Because I'm never enough and I'll never deserve
Everything about you that I love to observe
Because you're so high a
help help help meLate night TVhelp help help me in Free Verse More Like This
Is killing me
I can't sleep
I can't eat
It's not right
Things have changed
I've come so far
I feel deranged
My minds ajar
I can't remember
This cold September
So long and yet
So short, so close
But almost here
I'll make the most
Of thrill and fear
I'll mask this feeling
Cover this thought
I just need healing
From this distraught
Mind that's falling
You're way too tough
My heart is calling
Is love enough
To wear it down
Until I've found
My place with you
It's by your side
What will I do?
Will I confide
I do not know
Help me before
6 feet below
I just need more
I'm sorry, I really am.
Identity EnigmaIdentity EnigmaIdentity Enigma in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Brilliant colours, attention grabbing images and catchy slogans bombarded the travelers as they exited the station. It had been so long since Dallas had walked the streets of Ceana and much had changed. The memories of tenderly cultivated front gardens, white washed picket fences and warm tan brick homes had been stored as a treasure for three hundred years next to his heart in all that he did. The landscape that surrounded him now crushed these recollections
Unforgiving blocks of concrete towered over him, soulless and windowless, unfriendly barbed wire and crisscrossed chains trapped him in and surveillance devices sprouted from the shadows like weeds. This bleak and untrusting wasteland had replaced the splendor of the past, rewriting over everything that he once knew.
The dirty streets of his childhood were gone, replaced with barren isles of filth, living waste and concrete barriers. The land of memories and happiness that Dallas had idolized was no longer a realit
32you were gone before it even sank in that you were really there.32 in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
habit is the worst thing, cause it made me so blind to the fact that you could
just as easily be snatched away from me.
i should have hugged you at least four more times
i've spent the better half of a year being your definition of evil and insane
at the same time. i've known better than everything i've done, but done it
anyway. god knows i've repeated the same tedious/dangerous/stupid
actions over and over wanting/expecting different results.
you wouldn't be proud of me for anything anymore.
but i'm still mad at you, i'm sure of it. if you waded through the
rising tides, or peeled away my blue like old house paint, you'd find something
that screams how you broke everything inside me. and how you were one single event
that taught me that just cause something ends, that doesn't mean its over.
and that i will waste every single change given to me.
the only thing you ever told me that i listened to, was to rest occasionally.
pale blue.no-one should ever have to spend so much time focusing onpale blue. in Free Verse More Like This
trying their damnedest not to self sabotage.
but the ache of january was too well known to ignore
even when it wasn't there
for years in a row
it still lingered
in the way of old bruises
and silvered scars
that she thought of tearing open
to see if something was still trapped inside
something to unleash.
even if it would destroy everything
cause the ocean leaves traces
of wherever its been
with salt haze
or dark lines marking depth
but she was okay with the salt
and naturally cleans
so even if she chokes
and stops breathing
it won't hurt.
cheap whisky.instead of exchanging numberscheap whisky. in Free Verse More Like This
we exchanged horror stories
and compared our
[yours down your side
mine up my arms]
when i looked at you from a distance
i thought maybe you could
cut me open with
[but you never were
and your eyes were as empty
as the bottles that we
clutched to gain the silver
that traced our bodies
[but the rest of you was full
you said that there was lead in my veins
and you brought it to the boil
and i sat there burning
with bugs being drawn to me
[my destruction was more beautiful
than i ever could be]
i remember you hit me once
and it stung like cheap vodka
i told you i loved you
and slept for a year
[i wasn't going to be enough tonight
and you weren't interested.]
i know now that god is dead
i tired praying silently
i tried screaming it
until the sun rose again
he wasn't listening]
when i woke
they were all around me
cramming their apologies
down my throat
[i knew then
simple math.it was the strangest thing to be complaining about, not likingsimple math. in Free Verse More Like This
feeling -this- human. feeling so fucking vulnerable and exposed, and not
understanding anything that is going on but knowing that its actually
just chemicals that we’ve given names too
and far too fucking weak to handle the tidal wave of shitty chemical reactions you
bring with you.
waste.distance is the worst thing everwaste. in Free Verse More Like This
and i think
'if these people were closer, everything would
just be so much better'
but then i stop
and remember all the people in my town
who i barely see
and the thought
to the same place
he's my bottom
my rock bottom
quietly.i lost track how many times i told you those damned things would kill you. that they would set your insides on fire and burn you alive. or the smoke would seep into your blood and bones and stain you with the faintest taste of lingering death. but god dammit i don't know why i didn't notice it earlier, that was the entire fucking point of the, wasn't it? maybe not in the beginning, but the 5th year in, or after he skipped town and left you speechless each one was a tiny suicide, a quiet, unseen death. each packet held 10 days off your life, maybe more, and they're so much less conspicuous than a gun or a sudden addiction to painkillers.quietly. in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
a little sick.there must be more of you inside me than is lefta little sick. in Free Verse More Like This
inside that shell you call a body. your bones have
eroded from the caustic ocean you force up and out of
you. you're doubled over, curled tightly in a u shape and you're
shaking so violently i'm scared that what little is left of
you is going to snap, break and completely
fall apart. there is still smoke in your lungs, cradling your heart
and lingering like a deathly halo around your head, almost beautifully.
i still can't decide if i want to kick you
or kiss you.
stuck to the back of my throat.yesterday i saw you in cracks of my staircasestuck to the back of my throat. in Free Verse More Like This
and inbetween the pages of my class novel.
you look like hell, and i thought the
darkened circles under your eyes
resembled the colour i think my
love for you would probably be.
its saddening that the thick oxygenated
purple and red mix is kind of like
what i saw once one one
of those anti smoking commercials
spilling forth from a dissected lung.
thats what you are.
you're my personal cancer.
too light.everything around her was grey stained and long faced and even the heavens had broken open and threatened to wash the world away for the great loss. but her heart felt the same. her stomach was tangle-free and her boots weren't any heavier than a normal stupid day. and that was the worst part, she didn't feel different even though everything else was.too light. in Short Stories More Like This
she'd always expected the earth would collapse, and her knees would give out and she would be doubled over, stomach twisted and mind numbed. but her insides were still warm and didn't match the grey outside at all. the only weight was the guilt over the lack of actual guilt that she knew she should have been feeling. she wanted to cry, and choke and leave her makeup splattered and smeared like water colour over her face but she just stared blankly, eyes glazed at the people who were dying inside over this loss. the only thing she was feeling was that she was the worst kind of person and that he would have hated her. whic
Untitledthings she's destroyed this year;Untitled in Free Verse More Like This
two washing machines
from the pockets she fills with rocks
when the rains come and she wants to drown
the corners of all her books from flicking
bending and shaking edges
whenever she thinks of you
you stupid boy
her first car
crumpled in a ravine
and it left a scar on her stomach
that she sometimes can poke
and feel a lump that science can't explain
and she thinks it physical sadness
the entire box of plates
that her mother gave her for moving out
and making it on her own
well, she almost made it
but something about them
being under the ground left
her shaking uncontrollably
and the tears slid underneath fingertips
and she lost the grip
and didn't notice until she'd ran to phone
and left a trail of her insides
along the corridor.
her heart lines
or whatever it is that lets the happiness in
they're sealed shut
tight and all she can do is
at things that don't notice her
whatever it was that connected him
and let the sparks
oceanic nowheresno matter how many times i refer to oceanic analogies my words and wisdom won't growoceanic nowheres in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
with the mention of the atlantic, or the mumble of the pacific or the god damn indian ocean
if you are trying to be an independent original for the first time in your seventeen or so odd
years on this rotating blue and green mass we call a planet that has countless wonders
shoved in its corners and crevices but i am lacking the ability to lift my limbs across the
prime meridian, down the equator, and past oceans full of bullshitted metaphors.
i lack no ability when it comes to tracing your ribcage, god dammit there i go again referring
to bones and designated pretty objects located between the fibers of your skin, their cool
touch reverberating against my pale pigmentation that conceals these thoughts and
emotions, blood running in counter clock wise directions towards my toes and away from my
head, i swear it is fleeing from what turns this boy into walking disaster.
maybe i'll traverse around, rippin
we are our favorite authorsi know i've lost you for a while. though i can still find you in the pages of your book suggestions,we are our favorite authors in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
words you told me had changed you, set you free, trapped you forever. made you breathe in and out,
count your breaths like ants crawling between your sheets at half past three am. i just want you to know
that caring is still a verb, and love is just a butchered adjective, verb, noun, a part of speech if you will.
and i refuse to let it engulf me. take me out behind the back porch and slay my insides daily. if i wake up in
the hospital tomorrow, remind them to tie my tongue to the roof of my mouth because i can't speak these words anymore without crying. tell my mother to set my room on fire, please oh please just promise me you will stay to watch it burn. just one more hour, just one more minute, just one more second. just watch the final embers burn, die out, and please whatever you do,
don't do it because of me.
don't panicthis is the way i eat continents.don't panic in Free Verse More Like This
the flicker of the lightbulb right before it bursts,
that sound it makes before the life is taken straight
from its last spark.
let me eat this lightbulb, maybe it will concave my
insides, form my own grand canyon. no tourists
allowed, no pictures please. just let me myself and i
visit it over and over, the only wonder of the world
its encompassing is mine.
taste the way i am digging my pen into this page.
this is me telling the truth, this is when the
dinosaurs became extinct, this is when chernobyl
made her appearance. this is the way world war ii
started this is the off beat sound of the death of mlk
or jfk. this is how i'm crumbling like the twin towers,
call myself the terrorist.
next timeyou told me you were doing me a favor,next time in Free Verse More Like This
you never told me you were stripping me
of my emotional rights, butchering the word
love between my two front teeth, and can you
please remember for at least five seconds
that i am just some silly boy stuck in his
own world, far, far from reality. and as
delusional as it may sound, fucking with his mind
isn't an art, and we may be art kids but
i know where to draw the line between
pure art, and simply dying.
if it isn't how i imagined it,
then what control do i have anymore?
i want to be able to rip the seams of my
own shirt, wash my hands a hundred times
over if need be, now can you please stop
being my mother, start being my friend,
and cease being my lover.
if adam and eve can fuck over the human race
and have a book written about them, then
why the hell can i not fuck you over,
tell you to leave, kick you out the back door,
i know i am harsh, but i am too scared
not to be.
so next time, allow me to
strip away my own skin,
singe off my own ment
nyquili don't think you'll ever understand how i cried that night. it was the way younyquil in Free Verse More Like This
try to stifle something before anyone notices. the way a newborn flees the
womb. the sound of a million knuckles cracking. the way i slither and slink in
my own stigma.
divulgefor the last time idivulge in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
am saying, get me the hell
away from myself
a thomas jefferson retestproblem number one:a thomas jefferson retest in Free Verse More Like This
the rebirth of ransom.
our lungs out
trying to breathe,
trying to exist.
this is a marilyn monroe
of the west indies,
or indie kids,
hipsters at their finest
are outlawing our love,
it isn't individuality,
it is the down turn
solution number one:
it's not 'hip' to find
what were you thinking,
this isn't the da vinci code,
we are neither angels nor demons,
we are the free song on iTunes,
over downloaded and underplayed never
listened to more than once.
i've taught my words
to kill, like
daggers in the dark.
problem number two:
i emailed you,
did you not get my message?
here let me reiterate my email address,
maybe i was just unclear before,
i am sure you have seen it,
i sent you a million letters written
by the mayans themselves,
they feel honored to name
the end of the world after
your burial service, placing
your name on a tombstone
large enough to cover
the ozone l
domaini slept in the bed thatdomain in Free Verse More Like This
made you, i saw
the etchings on the wall
of six feet, nineteen years
of growth. i laid where you
first hit puberty, most likely
i was a slave to
your skin, a fugitive
to your insides.
one shell fucking,there are a lot of boys like meone shell fucking, in Free Verse More Like This
in this city, fairly lanky,
brown hair, green eyes,
you've seen it before,
you'll see it again.
so don't tell me that
you're lonely, you lost
that ability a while back.
you turned me into
someone i despised
a false cognate
of my inner self,
i hated the way i acted,
the words that left my mouth,
the tears wasted on being
something called nothing
all for you.
no don't fucking silence
me when i am talking now.
you had your turn now,
you fucked me over so many
grand ol' times now. so shut your fucking
face now and hear these words.
no one is ever coming along to make
you less of a jealous bitch, less
of a manipulative bastard. that's
something you have to fix, the way you
have to mend. the way you have to take
deep breaths and work on yourself,
or at the end of the day the only thing
you'll have left is a hollow shell of the
phrase "me, myself, and i."
a letter to ethanyou're fifteen minutes away.a letter to ethan in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
that's a quarter of an hour, that's ten miles, that's space enough that i never have to see you again.
but still i feel my heart beating like a rabbit's foot against my rib.
i'm a girl still in denial
of being a woman with
breasts and hips and a womb.
i'm a child with my heart and i will surrender it foolishly
to the first boy to give me roses and push them into my hair.
i don't know how to love,
the way i don't know how how to stop.
but let me tell you this- it happens.
they both do.
i loved your fragile brown eyes like i'd never seen a warmer fire.
i sank my bones like an anchor to your earthly vessel and called it home.
i staggered home drunk every weekend we were together
by word only.
and i felt myself falling apart when i sighed
with sleepy repetition as we exhausted the same jokes as ever,
just a million miles different.
my mind drifted but i loved you.
the feathered finches in my chest were beat
the best way to remember somethingi crythe best way to remember something in Free Verse More Like This
every time you write me a letter-
in all my damaged glory,
still loved across miles of river and fields.
you are unyielding and unforgetting,
finding the words we never had
there are many moonlit stories
to recount and to expound upon in
i've got a burn on the toe of my shoe
from getting too near the fire with you-
the bruises on your skin
lasted for days;
the headband your sister gave me
and the way i cried
when it broke;
climbing up stairs, skewed like piano keys
in the winter air,
and entering your house, where you told me
to tug on my sleeve
because my battle wounds were exposed;
your dog curling up on your bed
to keep me company,
the way i was welcomed in your house,
getting drunk on vodka on new year's,
the first time you made me cum,
finding ourselves at a party
on the porch where we met-
i am amazed, astounded, awed.
you can love me even though my ear piercings are crooked,
a broken smile on my teeth
for every time you ran away, afraid;
a letter of hatred, to myselfdear child,a letter of hatred, to myself in Letters More Like This
dear little girl,
dear sweet, innocent, beautiful melissa,
there is none of this that you would choose for yourself; there is none of this that you would see coming. a beautiful infant, born bright yellow like your favourite dress when you were three, you were perfect. you wore jaundice like a mink stole, blocked tear ducts like cat-eyed glasses. you cried because you were unafraid to show others how you felt: you were not scared to let them care.
strangers paused your parents on the street to peer inside of your stroller, marvelling at the porcelain doll within; the big blue eyes, reflecting the sky in grandeur and wonder; the rosy cheeks that meant you were healthy. you were beautiful, and as awareness became more than an abstraction, you knew it.
hours were spent in the mirror and every reflective surface that came across your path. dearest melissa, you were a brilliant star to behold.
but when is enough enough?can i tell you now how i've dissipated,but when is enough enough? in Free Verse More Like This
dissolved into the fabric's interstices
swallowed like living pride
i weigh less than i ever have,
i am less than i've ever been,
let's watch as i count every single
calorie in every single
morsel to touch my tongue,
let's see how far i've fallen,
let's see how much i hurt.
how hollow i'm painted these days,
dark shadows gracing the lines
of every feeling i beat,
can you see the way i breathe
conflict with every gasp,
the happiness i bend over backwards
for in hopes of bowing to my breast,
the abandoned fears burning under
my skin, the broken stars boiling beneath
the thin-painted husk of reds and blues
do you feel lovely,
for every scar stretched across my skin,
for every number burning through
it's all for you in
the way that it's not for you at all, just
the way you are
not there for me at all.
i swear-i am sad from wantingi swear- in Free Verse More Like This
but not from wanting you.
the winters worn away
and with the snow melted the brokenness
we were and i am not sorry for it.
i've stopped cussing beneath my breath,
been wearing more black
and if you so much as
cross the threshold
of my house
this isn't about you.
this is about the way you still manage
to pull at my heartstrings strung
across countries and continents,
the length of the world,
my soul tangled
how your hand still manages
to wrap around mine and i hear your voice,
thick with culture,
the stereotype supreme of irish catholic,
murmuring in my ear that it's all
right while you move my fingers
into my throat-
this is about how-
no matter how far you move (away)-
you will keep your grasp tight on me
and crush me if you can
just so you don't
bipolar IIa week is spentbipolar II in Free Verse More Like This
in throes of excitability,
irritation, unstoppable words,
and ideas with wings of their own-
they soar in their preternatural flight
without a second's notice
and meander along separate currents.
sleep is an elusive,
fought for so ruthlessly,
only to have it slip away,
mere hours later.
i am icarus, resin-winged in thought
and flying til my fingers can
brush the sun.
i am icarus, resin-winged in thought
and watching my feathers drop
until my body
is subject once more
to the relentless rules of gravity.
hitting the dirt
hurts more every time-
physics has no mercy for bruised bones.
refusal to meet my mother's gaze,
to speak when spoken to,
and to move from the cave of my bedroom
i know how the sun feels
when it sinks below the earth,
and the struggle of the moon
as it thrashes to rise.
the endless circle
from night and day
grows so tiresome that sometime,
it will just
constellations are just bodiesyou left me in my bed-constellations are just bodies in Free Verse More Like This
i was crying-
when you walked down my stairs
for the last time.
you were to spend the night-
you lived hours away-
until you told me
you couldn't do this
i was fine-
you were just a constellation-
until your words
forced images of my last love
before my mind's eye.
i cried before you-
i hadn't cried in months-
but i didn't cry for you.
in retrospect, as you closed my door-
it was the last time-
my only thought is
why didn't we fuck
before saying goodbye?
ambivalence"you're the only oneambivalence in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
i want to fall asleep with,"
i say to two men.
standing armyi didn't feel myself signing awaystanding army in Free Verse More Like This
the next indefinable period of my life
to worry and unease
when i couldn't find words
to tell you what you saw
if i don't break our bonds
tying us like kite strings
across a few cities
and maybe a couple hours,
i will write you letters
instead of quiet times
resting on your pillows,
or the inlets of your arm.
i will be segmented
like the trunk of an earthworm
and missouri's banks;
i will wait for the mail
and days of leave,
the way i never was able
to project ahead to see
i was the last person,
a child in a woman's body,
to enlist in a relationship
built on war zones.
in a fragile state with the
of delicate emotions,
i took an oath
to protect my heart
the way you did
to protect your people.
you found your way inside-
i couldn't keep you out.
you gave me the words
i couldn't find
and i signed my name
on the line above,
contracting for endless unease.
(not an army alive
i got flowers oncei am lonely.i got flowers once in Free Verse More Like This
i received flowers once
and i placed them
in a vase til
the petals all browned
and turned to dust
on the glass of my bureau.
i have never gotten flowers since.
i spend my days
with a boy
whom i love far beyond reason
and he holds me in his arms
and holds me together.
i bite my nails
and pull my hair
over the moment when he
feels the disenchantment
fall over his body,
all clean lines
and smooth shapes,
and realises that leaving
the worst thing
the best thing.
i am lonely
and even with a hand to hold,
and even with a cloak of security
bunching around my shoulders
and hiding my thighs,
i feel my fingers grasping at empty air
because i am too ungratefully
trapped in my head
to remember that my love
is holding my hand
and reminding me more often
than anyone should need to
that i am loved.
on what this really means, sweetheartwith little time to takeon what this really means, sweetheart in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
what is mine, there is a small
mouse with strong ears and tired eyes
in its burrow. he tunnels deeper and finds
with each layer removed he is closer to the
center of the earth, it is not something so
just as the milky way does not see new york city
but sees the way that it shines. the galaxy is a gentle garden
made of gelatin, dust, and gulps of god, and gusts, small balls of
cream that roll easy down the intestine and through the bowels revealing:
this is why i am here!- which is no closer to the real
answer to the real question anyway.
just as the great American city does not see the heavens,
but sees the way that they shine.
all answers are questions, too.
all questions are answers, anyway.
the teapot and its steam both containers
the woman is infinite in her expanding power.
the mouse burrows closer to the center
of the earth, his universe is triumphantly
the woman and her man create this similar effect.
what i am talking
on telescopesyour world was small.on telescopes in Free Verse More Like This
fit in the tiny
crook of your elbow
and where would the
where would it go?
your moon was untethered.
your Earth was ungrounded
and could i
be the prayer to your sex?
could i get on my knees
and fill my mouth with your ecs-
tasy, i mean redemption, and i mean empty-
and your world had been reckoned.
you had fucked and unfucked
and i was your champion.
sleep, as an elephant1.sleep, as an elephant in Free Verse More Like This
it is strange to see you
older and out of love with me
it is similarly strange to see me
younger and out of love with you.
i want to
throw my arms around your neck
thank you for
leading me to believe in love,
thank you for
showing me what the cock does
when it crows and summons the morning.
thank you for laying in my bed,
breathing my breath.
thank you for laying in my bed,
with your head on my breast
listening to the fluttering
bird in its nest.
thank you for staining my bed-
with your salt, it was blessed.
thank you for leaving my bed,
giving my dreams to its next.
thank you for, out of all the rest,
choosing me as the first, remembering
me with the best.
thank you for june,
and then june again.
thank you for december, and
thank you for the time
that helped me break my body in-
thank you for two ticks
on the wall of not-forever.
thank you for june to june to december.
in a few years,
when you are older still and i am
getting even younger, i want to take
pantoumi haven't seen you in awhile sopantoum in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
i'd like to see you when i'm drunk
i'll be outside leaning on a wooden bench
half laughing, half stumbling smoking a cigarette
i'd like to see you when i'm drunk
standing with the girls on cameron
half laughing, half stumbling smoking a cigarette
you'll be so polite when you ask for a light
standing with the girls on cameron
i'll catch a glimpse of you and turn
you'll be so polite when you ask for a light
my eyebrows will raise and i'll spill my beer
i'll catch a glimpse of you and turn
i'll walk up to you and you'll shake my hand
my eyebrows will raise and i'll spill my beer
i'll abandon the beer and hug your neck
i'll walk up to you and you'll shake my hand
i'll say 'how are you doing and how have you been'
i'll abandon the beer and hug your neck
you'll say 'it's good to see you again'
i'll say 'how are you doing and how have you been'
we'll walk off somewhere quiet and lay on our backs
you'll say 'it's good to see you again,
what a time it was, what a
Tattooed in My Tear DuctsI don’t know any big wordsTattooed in My Tear Ducts in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
and I don’t drink tea and I haven’t read
all the classics and my hair is a startling
shade of ash blonde, if you’re being
generous. I would call it grey. I will not
impress you. And maybe that’s impressive
enough. You will always get an honest
reaction from me.
My mother drinks tea though,
earl grey, and chai and chamomile,
she thinks it will heal her, make her
sleep. But sleep and healing are not
the same things.
I have run from monsters
to find them in my sleep, and by run
I mean get high, and by monsters,
I mean me. If sleep is a mirror
we are all doomed. I’ve seen myself,
eyes red and raccooned, reaching
for some comfort and I had to explain
that my lips swell when I cry. All I wanted
was for you to say that I look pretty when
I have come to realize two things:
one, that everything I want is not good for me and
two, I am not the worst things I ever did.
I am not the worst things I ever did.
I want this tattooed i
the (real) year of the rabbit , part IIto matt:the (real) year of the rabbit , part II in Free Verse More Like This
the year of the rabbit has
descended upon us-
nicotine-starved and perched on
the kiss of higher education,
i can feel the hare blood
singing alongside my blood-
rimming red my eyes into a pair of
tortured, twitchy nests
strengthening my heart-
with the stamping of its legs
pushing forth my hips,
offering a sloppy, slutty wreck-
i have been awfully weak with my passion.
But no more!
The fever has come as
a soft and subtle guest.
Today- if someone were to ask me
what i wanted most
i couldn't pretend to know,
as i have often pretended to know
for knowing's sake.
or trying's sake
or faking's sake-
Those who are most sure,
you should be wary of. you
should remove your left eye
and stick it to their side.
you should not leave them
alone with the last piece of pie.
Those who want one thing
want all things. and those who
want all things are usually
looking for one thing. And, well,
those who don't know are
the most honest and you
will find the fever
there is a new lov
spider song, purple ladyshe carriedspider song, purple lady in Free Verse More Like This
a pair of scissors
in her purse so she could
cut the filter off her cigarette
before she smoked it.
she sucked in her
cheeks and pursed her
lips when she had to be
patient for anything.
'how do you
stay so thin?' i asked
she gathered her bracelets
at her wrists and they clinked
like wine glasses, like the twinkle
of her smile, 'cigarettes and ritalin,'
she said. 'a steady diet of cigarettes and ritalin.'
she had small
hands that were not
feminine. her fingers
were short and her palms
her was purple. even
her eyes. they were brown.
she didn't wear
lipstick. only gloss.
stinking, pink, and sticky.
don't go too near, you'll end
up with your lips stuck and then
she'll eat you. you'll love it.
i asked why
she didn't just
cut the filters off
all at once, all at once
at home and she said, 'honey
it's wednesday, and i've barely
made it past monday yet.' snip,
flick, fzzz. alright, i said, you know
you're one hell of a girl and you're
alright, i said.
on being sorrythere are days when the beauty in me is suffocated by the senseless rage in you. i sense this rage in you. i watched you unfold into something i could hold on to, something that grew and made sense. i watched you pick a dead butterfly up from the ground and then you gave it to me and i kept it for the longest time, over a year, and i still have part of it. i watched you climb a mountain and hold the sky in your mouth. you gave that to me too. i watched you water me until i grew right alongside you. we were an unbreakable pair. roots all tangled in with each other. i watched you cry because you loved me so much. i cried too. i watched you make mistakes, and i made some too. i forgave you, and you forgave me too. you were the most beautiful thing i ever saw. the tallest, brightest, widest soul i will ever hold. but you are dark somewhere in there.on being sorry in Free Verse More Like This
i watched you stumble onto yourself. your heart is very clumsy. you are unforeseeable, you are table toppling on children's feet. i can't brea
the noblest of crimesi have a mentalthe noblest of crimes in Free Verse More Like This
list of songs
that i would kill
and with each song there is a-
how, a where, a when, and a why.
the most recent horror i inflict
upon myself in this shitty second-rate
cinema of an imagination is cushioned by
What a Wonderful World,
and i'm sitting in my car on the blue ridge
parkway completely stoned, my mother's handgun
on the passenger seat
mama bought it to keep the devils away
little did she know it would incur them through my own hand,
and Louis Armstrong lays heaven delicately on my ears-
the absolute purest knowledge in the world
is the Beauty of it-
and even at that moment, i do not deny it-
i am not a fallen solider, nor a coward
or a thief,
i am a creature rattling the bars
of her cage, i am the sparrow rising above the
fog to settle
TitubanceI fell in love with his music, first.Titubance in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
I stood in the doorway, the iron handle cold on my skin. The sunshine fell across the room like heavy drapes, shimmering and casting the spider webs in gold, causing the gilded dust to dance across the room.
He didn't see me. He pounded out heavy chords on the keys, eyes bright with the fury of the golden melody as it tumbled through his fingertips.
I stood without moving, as though afraid any sudden motion would startle him away. He seemed feral as a beast, too-bright eyes and snarling lips, teeth snapping against any words he might have said. He filled the room with the gleaming sound of the pulling strings and tendons and keys striking like teeth against the wood.
The last notes faded into a titubant silence and I let out a ragged breath that I didn't realize I'd been holding. He turned slowly to face me, the sun striking his eyes as they met mine, a glowing gold. I smiled, almost apologetically, and he eyed me warily.
I wavered in the doorway,
nostalgiaYou have fingers like hummingbird wings, soaring across thenostalgia in Free Verse More Like This
porcelain keys with power that thunders like the sea. You're
breathing music and you're breathing life and you're breathing
me in and really you wish you could just
stop to breathe.
You pried the fragments of glass from my skin, shattered
remnants that used to beat within me. With velvet
delicacy and the precision of a
predator, you sewed together the pieces that didn't quite
fit. With eyes like a wolf you watched the lamb race away
unwounded, a desperate, primal roar finding itself
and down we goyou feel like a freefalland down we go in Free Verse More Like This
a lunge off of a cliff
into an open abyss
where my heart stops beating
and my lungs stop breathing
and all that's left is
the sky, your eyes
and the fall
Eight ThingsI want you to whisper to me softly of rain drops and window panes and tell me how you lived a thousand lives before. Speak to me in riddles and speak to me in tongues, speak to me of poetry and stories around the world, but mostly just speak to me because I love the sound of your voice.Eight Things in Letters More Like This
I want you to listen to my butterfly words, soft and hesitant and fluttering on the edge of my lips. I want you to listen, really listen, and try to understand. There are subtleties and lies riddled through every word, and I'm begging you to please, please, figure me out.
I want you to squeeze my hand, when I am afraid of the dark and when I am sobbing from the not-so-light, hold me close and comfort me and let me know that you are there. Press me close and bring me home. I want you to lie, tell me it will all be okay, darling, you're okay.
I want you to take me to see bright colors and twisting images, to feel wind sharp against my cheeks and to smile against candid tourist hot spots. Interest me, intr
The tiles were blueafter you leftThe tiles were blue in Concrete Poetry More Like This
i used to stand in the shower
for hours with my nose pressed
against the tile wall
i would turn the water on
hot enough that it would burn my skin
and i would pretend that was why
i couldn't breathe
the fire brushing my sides
was simply stealing
the oxygen from my lungs
i would pretend that
it had nothing to do with you
Ten ThingsX.Ten Things in Letters More Like This
You broke my heart and you broke my mind, you broke my wings and told me I'm not worth your time. You broke my memories, you broke my soul, you broke every part that made me whole. But while you broke me down without beyond repair, now you're gone and I don't care.
Thanks for wasting my time.
I'm not pretty. I'm not beautiful, or perfect. I'm not artistic or even a good writer. You flatter with empty words and empty eyes and an empty mind, because it's what's expected. Take your time, darling, you'll figure it out. Patience is a virtue you need to earn, and denial is something everyone has to get used to. Be reproachful, be angry. Better yet, be yourself.
I loved you most when you screamed at me. When you got in my face, wouldn't let me speak a word. I loved you best when you struck me across the face, because it burned an angry handprint across my cheekbones.
It's the only fire I've ever seen in you.
I'm sorry I disappointed you. Truly, I am. You just don't understan
Nine ThingsI.Nine Things in Articles & Interviews More Like This
I could say that my favorite color would be the color of your eyes. That the brightest blue was the only thing that ever caught my attention, that made my pulse stop and beat
slow and heavy.
You subsidize the damage done to my heart, you make it all right with your eyes.
But your eyes aren't one color, so they can't quite be my favorite. And in that case, I'd like to settle for a pretty majestic purple.
I drive with the top down on my car, and I wonder as I listen to my own symposium, whether I'm speeding up or the car's speeding up or if the world is speeding up or maybe if it's all just crashing down and I'm falling forward like the baby bird that picked up speed as it
struck the ground.
I drive with the top down, and I hate the sound of the wind but I would die for the feel of it against my face.
I would hide from the world if the world wasn't a stage with curtains miles away and the spotlight didn't blind me, anyways. I slump my shoulders as I saunter to my place be
BorderlineI dreamed once that I saw your face inBorderline in Free Verse More Like This
my mirror, rippling prolifically like
water on glass on my face,
and then I was drowning, and I
too fast into your watery eyes.
Without imagination, prosaically as you
could, you told me you
loved me and hoped we'd meet again
soon. I smiled, propri
Chadi remember chad.Chad in Short Stories More Like This
he was bigger, all the way around. there was more of him than i was used to.
what i was used to: skinny drug addicts
chad had a little girl. chad had a little house. chad had a little car. chad had me.
when i was with him, when i was his, i thought he had a little life. because everything he owned was miniscule, or damaged.
miniscule: his child, her fingers barely making it around my wrist.
damaged: me, my heart still in tennessee, and nowhere close to being my own again.
i felt bad for chad.
but i could barely speak, and i think he might have liked that.
chad had to listen to people all day long. his boss, his mother, his ex-wife(s), his ex-girlfriend(s), his little girl, his life was one big storm of empty conversation.
and i had no words for him. not for anybody.
we would lay in his bed at night, with the door opened in case his daughter woke up, watching movies. he would tell me every bit of trivia he knew concerning it, and i would simply lay my head on his large,
to the fuckhead in the back-okay fuckhead, i am done with the mascara and the low cut shirtsto the fuckhead in the back- in Short Stories More Like This
i don't care if you want to fuck me or if you want to know me or if you want another damn cigarette
you're always taking. and i'll be fucking honest right now, because i'm high, because i'm wasted, because i'm done lying so i can maybe for one minute look pretty to you, you're always taking. and it started with things i could give you, yep, no problem, but i am falling behind and you're not helping me babyboybabybaby
it all started with taking my virginity, and that was anything but pretty. the blood was dark red, and my favorite panties had to be thrown away
and damnit, damn you- you kept taking more and more and more
now, four years later, my vagina is sculpted for you, my spine fits into your chest so beautifully and you still want more. my words, my words already have so much of you in them, why on earth would you try to take them from me? you selfish little boy, i can barely stand you.
i just won't give them up. do y
my brick housei don't knowmy brick house in Free Verse More Like This
my language anymore
i got carried away
with being unique
and new. the
adoration and perfectly
timed line breaks. so
you feel a part of
everything. like you are in
the thick of things.
you are not.
i hated that
old brick house. it
the house would creak
with the pipes
and blow a long
with the winter
winds. it would
sweat with you on
the dogs day. i hated
that place. because
what you did-
it was you. the house
was you when you
were you. and it
when i was
on the carpet sobbing
like a wild
two shots through
the house was
crying with you
hurting with you.
and that's what i
you are not
here. never were.
so i cannot
adapt or drama-
tize my words
to try and make
you feel the way
i need you to feel.
this is for me.
the boys tasted
and how i fell
in love. but my
so how can
i make you
the weddingi walked up the aisle. and i got to the front of the room. and the room,the wedding in Short Stories More Like This
the fucking room. baby, it was huge. it was so damn big, and i've always
been afraid of crowds. i hate eyes, looking at me, seeing me, maybe
seeing through me. what do they see? i always want to know that,
what do you see when you look at me? a mess, a lover, a cynic, a whore,
a girl in a woman's body.
well, i was in all white, and i could see the smirks on my friends and
family's faces. white? her? yeah, right. i could feel the
disbelieving glares. and i saw my fiance's pearly whites
and my heels clicked on the floor. click, i don't love you, click
click click, i cannot, clickclick, do this
i got to the front of the room, and it was so big. and everyone
was seeing right through me. knew i was unfaithful,
knew i was an addict of sorts. they knew everything, or maybe
i was just finally seeing myself for what i fucking am. i do not
know. but, i looked at my fiance, with his clean face, his black tux,
his red bow tie
the words that were part of meThe only reason I even try to write anymore is so I can feel a little bit of the carelessness I used to when I was steining the paper with my lead words. You know,the words that were part of me in Short Stories More Like This
saying the old clichés. Nonsense about love, and happiness. Talking about things we know nothing about, like heartbreak and being left behind. I'm laughing in your face now, I'm scoffing at my own words. The words I used to think were a part of me. I can do nothing but shake my head at now.
I'm honestly just wondering what happens when habits turn into addictions? Past-times turn into have-to-times.
Or how about when your child, your first fuckin' kid comes out of you in pieces? Well, the old me might have said that my heart broke into pieces along with her,
but that's not really accurate, is it? You've heard it before, haven't you? You aren't feeling much emotion at this point. Miscarriages are old news, bloodshot eyes and cigarette burns are becoming less and less poetic.
My heart is completely whole. In reality, orga
no cracks--you lit my first cigarette. and you watched me cough. you said,no cracks-- in Short Stories More Like This
"remember- always inhale."
and I took another drag, took it as deep as I could.
it is seven years later, and I go through a pack a day.
you left me laying in a hotel room. naked, drunk. you got up and said,
"I miss who you used to be."
and I took a drag of my sixth cigarette that night and I looked at you, and I said,
"but you turned me into this. this is your fault."
and your eyes roamed me. they searched for the girl you met two years previously, but they failed. they couldn't find her, they could only find cuts and bruises from drunken nights.
"I know," you whispered. and you were gone.
that was five years ago. and I found out a long time ago that there are no edges, no cracks when you live for a fix. I learned a long time ago the only darkness is when I close my eyes.
Most guysAny other guy would have felt lucky. With a pretty, pale girl unclasping her bra in the backseat of his car, grinding her hips into his. Curly black hair tickling his face, her constantly pushing it behind her ears, trying to keep it out of the way, but so far having no luck.Most guys in Short Stories More Like This
Most guys, they'd be rock hard by now. Breathing out meaningless adjetives, but this pretty girl, with her long starless night hair, and thick eyelashes made to be dramatic with mascara began reminding me so much of a girl I used to know, a girl I used to relish every chance I got that I could do nothing but look into her shit colored eyes and hope making love would just this one damn time have the end product of love.
Guys all over the world would pay to be in my spot, but me, I just smile up at her and think how easily I could love her.
i drank youI drank youi drank you in Free Verse More Like This
I drank you
I got trashed
So fucked up the blackness, the blackout
was threatening to take me over
Steal our one last moment
It was not glorious
The seconds ticking away
None of it was poetic, or very beautiful
I drank you
Your vodka lips
Your tequila fingers
I drank you all night long,
and I didn't regret it in the morning
My breathing was loud
Breathe, sip, breathe
The whole house could hear me sigh
But nobody cared
And that's not what is important
The final words
The memory is cloudy, black fog hanging in the corners
And someday the haze might take it over
But tonight? Our faces are stuck in my mind
They are liquid and lovely
The last thing I said
It was not what I wanted it to be
Not what I wanted it to sound like dripping off my lips
My anger wanted to envelope the moon and send it away
But our liquor love kept me calm
Smoke claimed our eyes
Music overtook our ears
But I could smell the beer you were raising to your mouth
And I've never had
i am soThe squalid truth:i am so in Short Stories More Like This
Everything you thought about me was fake. Is fake.
I was not drunk that night. I wanted a way to tell you,
"Well, you are the world after all,"
without fear. And you laughed with me, my faked drunken
slur saying love over and over and over.
The clear skin, the blond hair. None of it exists really.
The fiance I broke, the apartment I rent, the joint I rolled.
I am so sorry I turned into such a liar.
I don't mean to be repetitive, I mean to convey that
you are no regular boy turned man. I lost my
little girl four weeks in, and that's the truth. I couldn't
tell you. I meant to, but instead. I said,
"Baby, come take this pain away."
It doesn't look so good on paper, in print.
None of this does.
The red ink shining under the clip on lamp, here I am.
Here I sit,
saving lovers I don't love, leaving the only boy
turned man I have ever hated enough
I am so sorry I turned into such a liar.
I started with good intentions. I really did.
Not vodka, straight down m
i kiss her like she's free. "He probably told you all about me, didn't he?"i kiss her like she's free. in Short Stories More Like This
"Yeah. He did," I answer without looking at her. I could feel her naked body twist against mine,
"It always changes the way people look at me when they know my story. As if I'm some kind of fragile disaster. I'm not a fucking disaster though."
I smile, and run my fingers over her knuckles, sharp and bruised like the rest of her.
"Yes you are, but it's not a bad thing."
I feel her hand go under my shirt, I move her arm away as gently as I can.
"You have a lot of self-esteem issues. I've never seen you completely naked."
Her odd accent makes the word 'naked' sound completely new, a word I've just been taught.
"So you're saying because you've never seen me naaked I have confidence problems?"
"Don't make fun of my voice, fucker! And yes. What is it you don't like about yourself?"
My fingers ar