I let the water take controlIt's been awhile since I've been underwater,
so I drew myself a bath
and let the water rush itself into the tub
like blood to the brain,
as it pooled into the fiberglass basin
I felt the tides start to rise
while the pond I created began to
encase every limb,
my lips brushed against the water
in a liquidated kiss
and my blonde locks melted into the sea
as if my name were Medusa and
my strands of hair were snakes,
but my body dissolved into what it used to be,
I became the water and the water became me.
And I will Always be the MoonWe have gotten so attached to these days and these months,And I will Always be the Moon in Free Verse More Like This
but a deer doesn't know a Tuesday from a Thursday
and a caribou can't comprehend that it was born on a September afternoon,
but they can understand this instant, this moment, this breath,
only now, no longer the past, and only the future when they get there,
there's a healthy lack of awareness in that,
escaping the fear of death but thriving off the instinct to live,
everything so primal and based off gut reactions,
I guess you could say ignorance is bliss,
but ignorance only actually applies when it comes to humanity,
oh I would like a life like that,
one that is organic, tangible, and ripe with bloody berries,
one where carnal creatures run rampant,
one where we rise from the dirt with muddy thighs
because we were bred into these earthly bodies
to hold seconds in our palms like newborn children,
and to throw our heads back and howl against the awareness that we are dying,
for oh this skin is only our host,
NocturnalWrapped up tight by my own wings,Nocturnal in Free Verse More Like This
I hang upside down
while the blood rushes to my head
inside my cobwebbed cocoon,
Ultraviolet rays flicker against my eyelids
in colors I have never seen,
yet maybe I have once before,
I saw them the first time your skin brushed mine,
a kaleidoscope of solar energy
making me blind enough to see the light,
Your voice now echoing in a frequency
only I can hear,
it ricochets through my thin bat bones,
lingering along my teeth
so I can taste the way you sound
along the backside of my cavity,
But now you've been bitten
because I have no control,
my incisors sinking in to your handsome heart
because you are ripened fruit
in the dead of Winter
and I am a parasite
in Summer's wake,
If only the day ever met the night
maybe we could meet again,
but for now this must be enough,
so I return to the shelter of my own wings
to protect myself from the sun
and your own astrological luminosity.
His Breath, Her DeathHer eyes,His Breath, Her Death in Free Verse More Like This
so pale yet patient,
swarms of orca whales swim inside her irises,
dancing along the sunlight in jewel tones,
so rich with reflection,
it's as though you are staring into the ocean
if the ocean were emptiness,
but when you look passed the beauty
you can see that she is broken,
she is a ship wreck in the making
with anchored hips and a drowning smile,
but that's what she gets for falling too fast
when everyone told her it wasn't safe to sail,
the waters too rough, too cold, too heart breaking,
it's too late now though,
she is withered and writhing,
intertwined with ribbons of seaweed,
she has nothing left to give anymore
because he stole her oxygen and
trapped it inside his own greedy lungs,
so now as she dies,
he breathes in her reaping
and then the wind sweeps them up, down, and away.
The CatalystI have thoughtsThe Catalyst in Free Verse More Like This
but I never think.
Underestimation of your affection,
of your jealousy,
I, a breaching whale who breathed too deep.
Like bubble wrap
the air pockets in my lungs are pop, pop, popping;
I am nothing if not lonely air.
My thoughtless mind
so driven by my gullible heart,
too quick to believe you could ever love me
at least the way I love you,
But is this love if I am bleeding?
Your carnivore's touch,
your narcotic smile;
catalysts in my river of veins.
CrispTell me you love meCrisp in Free Verse More Like This
the way you love the sky when it rains.
Would that be a lie?
Then move on, move away,
let my clouds thunder
and my blood pour,
I am sick of this weather
but I'm even more sick of you;
diseased with a molding horizon
dancing along my hips,
I am ready for winter
so let it snow, bitch.
I'm Not Ready to Let GoYour fingertips carve melodies into my songbird skin,I'm Not Ready to Let Go in Free Verse More Like This
carbonizing my charcoal bones
so I can write sonnets on the sidewalk
with the ends of my chalky joints.
Oh how your grazing hands
Your propane eyes
burn me up,
your toothy smile
ties me down.
I hold my breath
because these moments are fragile
as they are finite,
and I close my eyes
because love shouldn't be this ugly
or this hard to find.
the story of a girl made of fire and of bloodThat red dress flowing at her ankles like blood,the story of a girl made of fire and of blood in Free Verse More Like This
rippling against her river thin frame of fire,
she is burning, burning so bloody,
she sweats and she cries and she falls to the ground,
but her eyes dance in the flickering flames
and her heart skips when his voice catches on her pastry flake flesh,
his voice lingers there, rests, soul upon skin, sin upon sin,
her body cooked tender.
waketrembling lips,wake in Free Verse More Like This
can't breathe, at least not steadily,
paint me turquoise
or be the forest to my fire,
actually I'd rather you were nothing, at least nothing to me,
now I can feel nightfall coming upon the manifestation of a July moon,
so let's let those clouds burst and rip wide open
just as though the clouds were my organs and
the rain were my blood.
i want you because i shouldn't want you at alli want you like i want succulent strawberries dripping over a white lacy dress,i want you because i shouldn't want you at all in Free Verse More Like This
i want you like i want complete silence on a sweltering august night,
i want you like it's dead rats melting over hot gutters and then it's your hot guts on my body.
i want you and your collarbones tied to my strings of saliva,
i want you smelling like you're some wild wolverine with incisors as sharp as rose petals,
i want you broken and bleeding just so i can nourish your wounds.
i want you dangerously close and always so,
i want you angry as you are passionate,
i want you in ways i don't even understand.
i am a book of blank pages.We're playing that game where we trace letters on each others backs with the ends of our fingers. So I drag my fingertips down your spine slowly, savoring every embrace. I'm drawing electric currents through each vertebrae and I can feel you twitch under my touch.i am a book of blank pages. in Free Verse More Like This
I'd like to hold your ribcage like guitar strings and play chords that echo beneath your skin. You'd sound like a long, soft lullaby that tugs at my eyelids to close so I can dream.
My dreams are the only place we can actually be together, my subconscious takes control
and it's your lampshade lips along the shadows of my feet,
then I'm spilling my shoulders like chandeliers onto your carcass
and I'm drinking in this surreal moment like wine, because it is so bittersweet.
In my conscious mind I'm lying awake at night with toothpicks propping open my eyelids
because days are tasting like stale bread and empty space
and I'm realizing that space might actually be what we need,
screw that, what we need is each other and I need you
stillyou lust to make his long legs quiverstill in Free Verse More Like This
like two blades of grass
heavy with morning dew
but you're the first frost of november.
AnatomyI cannot be the backboneAnatomy in Free Verse More Like This
of your moral affirmation;
set aside the scalpel,
burn the phonebook if needed.
Census of Ghostshe now resides in susurration:Census of Ghosts in Free Verse More Like This
shaken from our summer sheets,
flags drawn taut and shuddering,
and wispseeds rising into the light
with their dressing gowns unbuttoned,
planting onto my lips that name
i've tried to hang with himself;
on a late morning,
while folding your laundry,
i found him again and held his tongue
when he yearned to speak of love
that once transpired in his passion,
or maybe it was the infatuation
of surrealists: brown skin but touched
upon each other,
marking the insignificant with brands
of remembrance: like the crinkling of
tinfoil or the crisping of smokers' lungs
or the thought that cigarettes are only
romantic if you can witness their glow
or hear them faintly burning—
white ash rests on the dashboard
and his fingers are caked with rust
in my flashbulb drug collections:
the color of blood that's been drying
in my mouth while i try to recall how it felt
to hold someone who might have come
and remained forever breathing
if that letter had never reached my
novemberthe sun is a dim pearlnovember in Free Verse More Like This
beneath a blanket of gray
hung low from the heavens;
i'm your yellow tremor
paled by the cold, aching
for a proper sunrise.
Exteriorsflashing lights and a tightly wound clock,Exteriors in Free Verse More Like This
a never-ending waterfall of mass-produced body parts
and machinery with solar powered heartbeats,
a digital anatomy
punching holes in the night to let sunlight filter through,
artificial stars locked into conveyor belt constellations.
we could fall off the edge of the horizon tonight,
it will only be tomorrow when we wake up attached to heart monitors,
Houston, we are in coma.
we can't change the shape of the air we swim through
if we refuse to breathe,
so let's drink to the night and drink the night.
we pull oxygen through spiderwebs of nerve endings and tin foil,
to fill our disappointed lungs in a last ditch attempt to feel something.
if we don't come back in one piece, or not at all,
they'll chisel words like Stellar and Fearless on our headstones.
but we were nothing special.
we were only satellites on a forgotten wavelength.
Glass Half Full Of Emptywaking up on the wrong side of the world,Glass Half Full Of Empty in Free Verse More Like This
disorganized and incomplete, story of my life.
another bloodshot morning in a city i've quickly grown to hate,
another monotonous day without the things in life i've slowly grown to love.
breaking up the scenery with daydreams,
momentary static distractions from the routine.
i'm wearing the floors thin from pacing wall to wall to wall..
if i threw it all away,
i wouldn't miss a god damn thing about this dead end town.
if i bought a ticket to where you are,
i could be there inside twenty four hours.
what the fuck am i still doing here..
easier said than done when i'm this fucking spun,
but they say where there's a will there's a way,
so i'm looking for a way to cut and run and stay.
my mind tends to wander, you would know better than most,
but it's never gone too long before it finds it's way back to you.
disorganized and incomplete, story of my life,
i know i drive you crazy but you keep me sane, and that's the truth.
so take this for whatever
Highway Robberythe stitches run like train tracks across her heart,Highway Robbery in Free Verse More Like This
but it must have derailed because the only sound is her monitor.
i've been awake for four days and nights just watching her sleep,
afraid if i close my eyes she might slip away without me.
her hands are wrapped in plaster casts
and there's still stained glass buried in her face.
her lips are broken and silent, her eyelids are static and braced,
and she's my angel full of staples, my sunshine.
please don't take my sunshine away.
closed my own eyes for only a second,
woke up on the wrong side of the road again,
your room is suddenly full of nurses and you're flatlining.
their voices sound like breaking glass
and the passenger side of a Honda Prelude caving in.
please don't take my sunshine away.
i never even got to say goodbye.
Mendbreathe in, breathe out.Mend in Free Verse More Like This
a picture's worth a thousand wounds
and there's galleries on our sleeves.
blade in, bleed out.
cutting out the imperfections
because there's a crowd to please.
but you're the only one who doesn't know you're beautiful,
and these wounds are not the final word on who you are.
we can grow new skin to hide these scars,
rewrite these broken lyrics and dance to a different song.
breathe in, breathe out.
we're wearing this cycle thin and vice versa.
we've all got demons in our yesterdays,
so tear them out of the calendar pages.
tomorrow is a new diary with your name on the flyleaf,
let's cross our hearts and hope to live.
Indigoshe's on her way to Bangkok, to look in someone else's eyes while she fucks them.Indigo in Free Verse More Like This
i'm on my way to Singapore to sing a poor man's blues.
Drowning The Distanceholding up the wall at the back of the bar,Drowning The Distance in Free Verse More Like This
i've got a drink in each hand, and the music is too fucking loud.
i can't hear myself think but i'm thinking of you.
she comes over and asks me my name, as if she gives a damn,
i tell her she looks grand but i'm only here to drink right now.
asks me why i won't dance, i tell her about you.
there's only one girl i want to dance with tonight
and she's not on the floor, she's a thousand miles away.
they're playing a song that reminds me of you,
but you're not here to hear it, so i'll take another shot of something hard,
watch the lights flicker and wish i could be where you are.
BloomIt's normal, you know.Bloom in Free Verse More Like This
Bruises flower under skin like lilies in a garden
Tears find their place just like water in the soil
They seep into the black
And hurt grows so green and natural.
Pearl skin is supposed to go purple
It's as right as the rain.
So don't worry, don't fret
I'm art, you know, cross-stitching on the wall
An ivory piano key
Just as I should be
Because battered things are beautiful.
Feathers torn from silk pillows
And stick figures on balance beams
Aren't as loved, nor as adored,
Nor as beautiful as me.
we used to make butterfly handsYou told me that when I was older I would understandwe used to make butterfly hands in Free Verse More Like This
and I looked up and saw the sky in paper planes and periwinkle blue.
I reached out and drew a line for you;
traced it all over the globe and back to your wise heart
so that when I was older, my head full of understanding,
I’d be able to navigate back to my place there
and touchdown, settle down with you.
You said that our worlds were too distant,
you with your job and bills to pay and me with my honey-sweet dreams.
I nodded and pulled back my flyaway hair
thinking that if we’re alive together, against all the odds and centuries alive together,
that’s close enough for me.
I kissed you and you told me I was great. Carousel great. Sandy-toes great. Smiles on a Saturday, belly-laughs great.
You snapped the string and flew away.
I’m older and I do understand
that dotted lines get tangled or just fall away completely and
you were right when you said that things aren't quite as pretty
as they are in my party-h
Froth is another synonym for ScumYou know, it truly baffles me how people like you can keep carrying on with such scotch and guilt-free consciences.Froth is another synonym for Scum in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
You put on a dozen disguises a day and I watch you sway, prance, and masquerade with the hearts of all those who think they love the genuine you, and that's including myself, too. How can you not flinch for even a nanosecond at all your fallacious fidelity and flippant ways, even whilst staring me dead-straight in the eyes?
I've heard of souls evicting the corrupted bodies of their owners who have been far too fractured with lies, but you, what you are capable of goes beyond false laughter and cries. Something tells me you've been living without a moral compass for so long that for you to call to mind the meaning of direction and compunction would be deeply dippy.
You are the byproduct of false humility and fraud sympathy- I doubt you have ever felt the sorrow of being scammed and ripped-off while wanting so bad to pour your heart out to a hot, steam-filled cup only for
Lord of the DanceI'm a sun pillarLord of the Dance in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
B reathing in a cosmic love spel L
L eave all negativity & just let g O
O pen up the pores of your spiri T
O utcast melancholy by an adie U
M elodic mornings of serene blis S
I ntimacy with a totality of lazul I &
N ights filled with a calm veridia N
G reet you to a twilight of kisme T
L ose the handcuffs of daily rus H
I n the knowledge you stand fre E
K iss the earth in dancing hoove S
E xcuse the past, don't look bac K
A ccept yourself
Kintsukuroi: A Rensaku In my rested palmsKintsukuroi: A Rensaku in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
and your shoulder-neck's hollow,
in these expanses
did we find koi no yokan
in a rose gold reverie
By your h
Lightning Bug CosmosI lace my skin up like a corset, peel back the blinds on my eyelids, and take a step forward, waking from the poppies to theLightning Bug Cosmos in Free Verse More Like This
lightning bug glow of truth tapping on my eardrums.
In front of the mirror I stand, but what I notice is not the awkward crook of my nose or butterfly lashes. I look into the lighted mirror as if searching for answers hidden under
Ribbon-like sets of
veins, arteries and nerves.
Sometimes it all flows correctly; sometimes everything becomes
knotted up in all the wrong places. Skin toughened by beatings brought about by the
Once ComfortingWooden platforms housing the collective wordsOnce Comforting in Free Verse More Like This
Of authors past and present tense,
From which I drew shelter in pubescent days,
Back when escaping life was just a turn of the page,
I would pass the time in naïve haze,
Filling my mind with the white lies
That writers call device.
I drank deep from this well of thoughts,
Getting drunk on the heavy draughts
Taking in the pathos notions
From those that would describe a puddle
When it's an ocean
They stuck in me,
Those written hollow truths.
Duty, Honor, Glory,
Consumed my mind
And in search of these,
I left home to find
Leaving behind those paper portals
To gather dust in an empty room,
Where there are none to exhume
Such dangerous ideals.
War taught me uncertainty,
Where chaos moves too fast to see
And life is but a privilege
Bestowed by a corpse's eyes,
Oh, how I long for those comforting lies!
Sleeping SunCrickets, hiddenSleeping Sun in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
in hydrangeas, rouse
a sleeping sun.
Burning hope brightly.Hours before dawn,Burning hope brightly. in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
the front step feels like losing.
One kiss ignites hope.
Harvest MoonThree a.m. moonlightHarvest Moon in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
across lazy dust motes; a
tree scrapes the window.
Your arm weighs on my hip like
whispered promises of love.
Fragile Magpie MoonsIt's only spring when you first wake up,Fragile Magpie Moons in Free Verse More Like This
two magpies and the dull ache of menstrual cramps
tapping on. Death's window
sleeps in all our bones,
a dripping water faucet.
Brittle things--like love,
a jar of not-quite-nothing--
small and fragile and ours
are the presences we carry
while running from the moon.
Birth MarkedGrandpa used to tell storiesBirth Marked in Free Verse More Like This
about the night I was born,
said a lost sparrow with cockeyed feathers
hopped across my right shoulder
and left its mark.
Shifting the sheaf of hair
mom refused to cut short
and craning my neck,
I could just see the cluster
of sharp-edged W's etched like tattoos
across the scalloped scoop of my bones.
In summer heat waves,
I learned to weave my dark tangles into braids
and let the claw strokes breathe,
the thin straps of feather-print shirts
pushed out of the way.
On those days,
Grandpa claimed I could lift my arms, wing-like,
and fly myself into something new.
though the sun is high
and summer nears again,
Grandpa is gone
and I am weighted by dark moods
and black mascara.
Standing at his graveside,
I tell him stories about the parts of him I miss
and the parts of me I hate
but cannot change;
the parts I was born into.
A phantom breeze clutches
the fresh bob of my wayward hair
and for a moment,
I can feel his work-calloused fingers
the quiet musings of an almost dead womani feel the world. it weighs on me in the empty hours between dusk and dawn, the hours when the birds are nested and the grass can do no more than whisper beneath the touch of the wind.the quiet musings of an almost dead woman in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
i feel the world and it is both new and old, both stillborn and throbbing with well-lived life, and it is heavy with its own weightlessness.
i feel the world but the world does not feel me; i do not feel me. my skin is a prayer to the soft curves of the oceans and the hard ridges of the mountains instead of a testament to my being.
i feel the world echo within my confines-- i feel myself become the world.
all of heryou know a girl that presses her lips to yourall of her in Free Verse More Like This
and promises that she loves you in a
but does not think of you when she loves
know your mind and your heartsome people are like second skins. the banter, the familiarity, is home to my tired soul and i am ready, always, to slip into that second abode and live out my life within its mobile security, to lose myself within another person's confines.know your mind and your heart in Emotional More Like This
yes, i am strong. and yes, i can make it on my own, but that doesn't mean that i want to. i want a home outside myself, i want the freedom that comes with their actions-- i want that second skin and no matter how many other things i control, i can never rein in this want.
#1we have lived within close proximity of one another for years but it has never been peaceful and now, when i am twenty-one and vacant, all i can say is that you have driven me from grieving for never having had your love, to the silent insanity of not understanding why i should have to try to earn it at all.#1 in Letters More Like This
shoes that don't fit should never be worni have used every ocean metaphorshoes that don't fit should never be worn in Free Verse More Like This
known to my tongue
to describe the contours of your bones
and still, it has not been enough
to capture the essence that you let loose.
you are a cacophony of mistakes
and misconceptions in the dark of four a.m.
and i have never found a metaphor
that fits the shape of your ego
with enough space left over for me to fit inside it.
your eyes are not oceans.
no matter how many times
i have tried to force that imagery on them,
it's always a wrong fit.
i am better now,
older than i was
when i first forced you
into the coffin i handmade for you.
it is my eyes that are the twin oceans,
yours are just the deep fissures
that split the sand
to swallow the white whales.
i am tired of forcing you into cliches
that were never made to fit you.
sick of asking you to breathe in,
no - more,
while i lace up the latest petticoat.
you were never meant to slip
within the folds of the ocean;
you were meant to br
crepe paper skin doesn't billow in the breezeit wears thincrepe paper skin doesn't billow in the breeze in Free Verse More Like This
and thinner still.
infected with anorexia,
it breaks down until
the stars shine through;
unable to fathom themselves into
they free float.
has never been more beautiful
than it is today.
when her stomach lining
with her matchstick limbs,
urging them to flash red,
and blue, again:
across her wrists but sirens
in a year, thistles will
sprout from her
and the world will begin
the process of
freedom is smothered before it is birthedi am a canopic jar for organsfreedom is smothered before it is birthed in Free Verse More Like This
placed within me without my consent
during a stay within a womb i did not choose.
i won't run from this quiet fatea quiet storm crashes onto my calves,i won't run from this quiet fate in Free Verse More Like This
half empty and needing,
and the sun has swallowed herself
out of pity,
and out of spite for colour.
decay chews at me,
gnaws at bones already brittle
and watches as they splinter into
coral and catch on the breeze,
swept by thunder into the arms of the storm
as my flesh and flowers wilt together--
and this will be the time when god
buries me in his neverland,
fears dismissed and anxieties
lessened into non-existence in the half-light.
don't name your daughter eleanorit's 4:06 a.m anddon't name your daughter eleanor in Free Verse More Like This
eleanor has developed an
complex within her stardust confines.
oxygen shimmies, lung
glitter on display,
into the hidden places between her lips.
an owl screeches and
it tears at her inner workings until they
grey rust and breed dichotomy.
anxiety triples beneath
the weight of the moon and
presses on her temples until they collapse.
the world touches her irises
and arches its belly into her memory
until she wakes coherent and pale.
it is 6:04 a.m and
eleanor has developed a taste for the
falsehood within dreams.
an end to boys like josephthe problem with boys who paradean end to boys like joseph in Free Verse More Like This
as ghosts is that they force your
heart to leap into your mouth
so that you're too busy choking on it
to tell them the bitter truth that
courses through your veins;
they stopper your reality and slam their
fantasy down into your bones until
they ache and thunderstorms rock your soul.
a year later, when their
arms are tired from pressing you down,
you're too lost to find your
way back to scream; too tired to
stir your battered bones and fight
for a right that has always been your own.
but year by year, their arms
loosen and their eyes distance themselves
from you and finally, your lips are red
instead of blue and your bruises have
healed and you scream, and scream again
just to be sure you've been heard.
you spit fire into his wounds and exorcise him
from your soul until you can stand on your
own two feet and make your way back.
he lets you, and you feel the sti
Who Is That Girl?Who Is That Girl? in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Who is that girl,
With dead eyes,
And bleeding wrists,
That will lead to her demise?
Who is that girl,
Who dreams all day,
And screams at night,
Yet smiles anyway?
Who is that girl,
With music-filled ears,
To avoid the tears?
Who is that girl,
Who seems so familiar?
Who is that girl,
That I see in the mirror?