The Second ComingI.The Second Coming in Free Verse More Like This
I struggle because God told me that he doesn't like slackers,
and it is almost winter, and I have to believe in something.
His desk is so tall, I like to sit under it and stare up at where
the edge of the desk meets the ceiling and his hand tapping.
I don't like the cold, but God says that it builds character,
so I trek through it to get to something I once loved and it only
leaves me feeling small.
I was never a child, I told the interviewer when he climbed on
top of me. I was never born, I just appeared.
He wasn't listening anymore, but I kept telling him.
God sank into my skin when I was sleeping one night,
in a church somewhere east of here, and
He speaks to me now.
"God doesn't exist," huffed the Interviewer Man.
There was this man who said that if you spoke to God,
then you were praying. Lots of people pray in snow
And silence, but if they're silent then how does he hear them?
This man also said that if God spoke to you,
then you have schizophrenia.
I don't know what
My Life's Story Is About YouDear [insert name],My Life's Story Is About You in Free Verse More Like This
So I asked the things you left me to tell me
why you left me these things anyways.
I danced in circles because no one cut in,
and the blur of dancing lovers made me look away
from your gaze over your selected drink.
I thought you would like to know that
I still contemplate my space in my mind
because lately, it seems like there is little left for me.
I just wanted to see something lovely,
and for a second my heart-beat slowed its pulsing
and I was able to tell my blood to flow the other way
to stop the feelings from reaching my brain
but it was too late;
You were too late.
Love will be the death of me,
and I can find no other way to dismiss it
than to break my own heart before you can,
because my fists are stone from years of abuse
and yours are soft from years of neglect
yet if nothing else
we make a beautiful story.
But I'm sick of being the writer
and I'm sick of you telling me what to write.
It doesn't seem right anymore,
but you convince me otherwise
The Flowers -wilted-She'll give me the garden if she can lift it, turn back time if I need it;The Flowers -wilted- in Free Verse More Like This
The things I find are mine to keep.
She is a saint, a goddess, a crook, a fable of festering goodbyes,
and if I finally get around to deciding
she will always be nearby.
I always find her, like a coin on the street;
What I find is mine to keep.
The letters she wrote me, the times she left me, the crosses she broke;
I'll fall asleep as if I never woke.
She is the ocean, the walls, the curtains, the glass, twisting and revealing
what I told her to hide.
It isn't healing, it's just oozing and oozing; she is in my insides.
The bottle she left me rocks on my table, spinning and spinning.
She looks in my eyes.
The flowers she left me
never opened, played games on my ceiling, sang softy as I weep.
Hers to keep,
I was always hers to keep.
New Year's KissI carried all the weight of your empty promisesNew Year's Kiss in Free Verse More Like This
from our childhood straight through December.
You had a crush on me in elementary school;
You thought it was cute, when I thought it weak.
We were duplicates from the same cut of dirt,
grown with hardships that bonded us into love.
The chains around my ankles only made me pull harder
to escape the anguish of our unlucky upbringing.
I thought we were going to last forever, love forever;
until a week ago, when I glanced back at my past
and saw you pulling on everything that held me back.
This last year was never ours to begin with,
and next year doesn't look anymore promising.
For the last 17 years, on New Year's I have wished
for the same thing: a man to kiss me at midnight.
This New Year's, my resolution is to not fall back in love with you.
I hope you think of me too.
Frigid . He MeltedI fell in love under a mighty pineFrigid . He Melted in Free Verse More Like This
to a man made of snow.
His touch was bitter and
his kiss was slow and frigid.
I decorated the tree with orbs
of my imagination
and hung lights so I could
always find him
waiting for me beneath the tree.
The night he told me that
he loved me,
it was negative ten degrees
and his words were ice,
and his breath was freezing;
I fell in love on Christmas Eve.
The morning he wasn't there,
all he left me were my love letters
and a yellow rose
growing from the ground
where he once stood.
He had a heart of water
and never found his perfect fit.
He was afloat in a sea of
uncertainty and memories.
I smelled the pale petals of
my loss's final goodbyes
and began to wonder
when will I fall in love
with a man made of spring
I'm sure his words will be bright
and warm. I'm ready for spring.
Mary AnnShe tiled the floor,Mary Ann in Free Verse More Like This
On her knees, sniffing the glue
That held the world still
Still enough to grab the bottle
And slide through the night
Like sobriety in a wine colored gown
Her dress wrinkled as she twirled
In a pool of placebo dreams gathering
Around her dirty feet
She was a domestic princess
High above her granite counter top kingdom
Somewhere between tipsy
The floor came quickly,
She ran her shaking fingers over
Its surface as it cradled her
The shattering of the bottle
The shattering of her bones
The shattering of her home?
Rang through her body
Swimming in the folds of her skirts
And settling on her damp skin
This day drifted into the next into the next
And when he came home to see his wife
Whispering sweet nothings to the
Dinning room chair
He sighed half in relief and half in disappointment
That she was still breathing.
Her ValentineHer Valentine was a Religious ManHer Valentine in Free Verse More Like This
She was the mistaken marvel of a monstrous place.
She hung young hearts on the side of his studious church.
The weight of the world had its withering worries,
and she traded them all for bent apple trees
she planted on the highway between belief and wishful thinking.
She was a delirious debutante in ripped, white lingerie.
She ate her boyfriend, and she ate his words;
Now she's back for him, she's back for more.