CrispTell me you love me
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 Don't Mean To Be Rude...But I am getting quite sick of your attitude.More Like This
And if you think you are free of all guilt and suspicion.
I'm afraid, you will find, you are only in remission...
For I'll hunt you quietly, silent and slow.
And I'll wait till you slip, before I lay you low.
But when you're filled to the brim with fear; chasing the shadows away.
I'll appear inside your mirror--and I might come out to play...
...So tell me, do you fear me now?
-Chen Yuan Wen, 16th December 2013
Gone a Little RottenI don't know when it started.More Like This
When I'd gone a little off.
When my mind had gotten twisted,
And bubbled like a broth.
I don't know when it happened,
When I'd gone a little green.
When I'd turned a little rotten;
And dreamed a rotten dream.
And I don't know why it happened,
But this I know to say;
Twenty-two are buried here,
But twenty-three today...
...Now then, why don't we find some place nice and quiet (^_^)
- Chen Yuan Wen, Broken World Series, 19th December 2013
Wintry NightShe is beautiful, refined—More Like This
Within the wind is where she hides,
For none know a world more divine
Than that of snow and Grandfather Pine
In her cold hand is yours, entwined;
Icy catacombs frigid vital signs
Nowhere else might you feel more alive
Than ‘neath the frost that intertwines
Though her appearance chilly, her smile is kind,
Her eyes a starry, sapphire design
None other as jubilant, lovely, or fine
Than her of the cosmic, w i n t r y n i g h t
ArmorEveryone has armor,More Like This
Hidden deep inside,
Some is made of iron,
Others out of hide.
Regardless of the material,
The purpose remains the same,
To protect the wearer,
But sometimes this is in vain.
Sometimes a harsh knight,
Straight from days of old,
Will take the armor of his victims,
For reasons that remain untold.
When the armor is removed,
All that's left is skin,
And words will bruise,
The soul that lies within.
When the armor is gone,
No one will know,
The armored ones slip by,
Like a whisper in the wind.
The unarmed ones,
Will try to hold out,
But that will not last,
Without a shadow of a doubt.
Words do hurt,
Like a sword to the skin,
They'll come straight in,
Although physical pain fades,
Is the kind that never goes away,
God is DeadWake up, againMore Like This
And pick the smile
You'd like to wear today
Get up, pretend
It might be a while
Before things start
To go your way
Act like everybody's friend
No signs of guile
In any words you say
Soon it'll all end
They'll act hostile
And they'll start
Pushing you away
Are you alright with being alone
Or Are you afraid
Keep acting like you're brave
Take these fears down to your grave
There is no one who can help you
I know you're begging to be saved
There will be no Angels
That'll come here to your aid
You can't be saved
What you pick out of this life is what you'll take
If you're playing with emotions
Eventually hearts break
And nothing is going to save you of the ache
You can't be saved
No, you can't be saved
It's time you realized
You're all alone
That God is dead
Please open your eyes
You're on your own
With these demons
In your head
Stop ignoring every
Word that's being said
Start treating the wound
Don't just clean up
What you have bled
Don't hide your dread
No you can't be
Sky is Falling DownThe sky seems to be falling over meMore Like This
The ground feels like it's
Being pulled from under my feet
I've never felt so lost before
Or felt this alone as I walk a crowded street
I wonder what's happening to me
Why does my heartbeat
Feel so weak
Why do I feel so empty inside
Will I ever feel complete
I'm in pain again
Maybe its exactly what I need
Stop the numbness
Get the wrist starting to bleed
And I guess it'll be another night
Where I drink, cry and beg to god
To free me of the pain
Because I'm tired of wearing this facade
I'll drink and cut myself
Which is really kind of odd
How can this help me feel relief
Like me, Happiness is just a fraud
All night I'll pray to god
To help me take away the pain
On my knees with my hands up to the sky
As blood is squirting out my veins
Though I know it deep inside
That my efforts are in vain
I can bleed myself dry tonight
Freedom is not that easy to obtain
MirrorWhy am I here againMore Like This
Same situation that I've always been
There's no escape for me
Always tempted to fall back and sin
And it feels as if
The devil has a hold of me
Feels like his grip is at my throat
And nothing's going to set me free
And I find myself
Talking to this mirror again
Its reflection looks so brittle
Like it's going to break from all the pain
And I'll... Whisper it's name
So only it can hear me
I'll lie to it again
because I know it'll believe me
I'll try to smile
And say everything's okay
Keep looking at that mirror
Pretend I'm better off than yesterday
And maybe I am
Soon I will believe it
One day I will leave it all behind
Rip this sorrow off and then just leave it
But for now all I can do
Is keep talking to this mirror
Even if I hate that I look just like my father
And the mirror won't let that image disappear
I'll..still talk to it in whispers
So only it can hear me
Begging the devil to let go of me
And wondering why God just won't come near me
Beautiful in BlueI know that it's hard to smileMore Like This
With your cheeks bright red
being outlined in blue
With those scars on your chin
and your lips being cut too
With all that dried blood
Leaving traces all across your face
Black and blue bruises on your neck
Where his grip also left its trace
It must be hard to smile
When you're missing some teeth
When the bruises run down your body
And it hurts just to breathe
When your body's tattooed
With scars and in blue bruises
that wont ever leave
When passing out from the pain
Seems to be your only relief
But don't you bring that
blade to your wrist
And hurt yourself too
Don't give up on life
Think that you can't break through
Because you can
And start your life anew
Even now I can say
That you're beautiful in blue
Alone in DecemberI've reached the endMore Like This
my brain can't think of words again
I've lost my connection with my pen
But these demons are still inside my head
And won't disappear as I count down from ten
I'm lost, afraid.. And every now and then
I contemplate... to get relief
By cutting up my veins
Drinking won't take away my pain
And the sun won't dry away the rain
But the thunder keeps calling out my name
Its roaring, screaming in my brain
It's driving me insane
Repeating it over and again
I'm looking at this mirror
With no idea who I am
I'm trying to collect all the fragments that remain
Of who I used to be, before the demons made
my brain into their domain
And I might be crazier than them
Because every day I feign
A smile so that no one can complain
That I'm the kid that is broken and alone
With no one but myself to blame
The Pains of LoveThere he is againMore Like This
He looks so perfect
At least through my eyes
But when I'm around him
There's a pain in the pit of my stomach
At the same time, butterflies
I tell my self that I don't love him
But then there's a gnawing guilt
Of lying to myself
I still feel love for him
But it hurts
It hurts so much
Because I know that he doesn't love me
The painful thought of being rejected
Crosses my mind
He doesn't know I love him
He probably thinks I'm a weirdo
Or a stalker
So when I'm around him
A mix of emotions surround me
I feel happy to see him
But sad to know we can never be anything
More than friends
I feel angry at myself
For letting my heart fall for him so easily
And jealous of the girl he does like
I have heartache whenever I'm around him
Why did this happen
He barely even talks to me
Why do I love him so much
He doesn't love me
Why did I fall for someone
Who I know wouldn't catch me
Before I hit the ground...............
Colors FadeFading colorsMore Like This
one by one
lose their hues
like reds and blues
and everything in between
when first adorned
their bright luster admired
yet over time
their beauty fades
pigments slowly tire
So pinks and yellows
All else fade to gray
colors in life simply show
nothing good can stay
DisappointmentsDon't give me dreams,More Like This
Don't make me expect.
Don't make me do,
What I might regret.
Don't give me hope,
Don't make me sway.
Don't give me light,
Then take it away.
Don't keep me up,
Don't make me wait.
Don't build me up,
Just to break me again.
The Garden Of Purple Flowers.I have a red garden hidden behind my eyesMore Like This
And it's filled with roses just for our love,
All I can see when I look into your eyes
Is a mystic blue garden, a beautiful place.
When I kiss you our gardens mix
And our minds turn into a purple blaze
That consumes our hearts
To make us so crazed for each other.
When we pull away we are still together
Thanks to the growing purple garden behind our eyes,
I can just close my eyes and see you there
Frolicking through the flowers we grew together,
Now when we're together life's not what it seams
Because we just hold onto each other and slip into our dreams.
Lost to The Penumbra.One glaring shimmerMore Like This
reflected by old and tireless eyes,
had given way to one glassy tear.
To that of the beholder
One had never known of such magnificence
and had wept appropriately on this rare occasion.
Those who once knew
but, now share this affliction,
know but a fraction of its mellon collie.
And are only reminded of their own bitter loss.
Those who are fortunate to remain certain.
Bow their heads in woe....
...and in fear.
Only one, whom from birth woke with uneventful eyes,
may dare to face such searing brilliance.
Is able to face such horror and amazement
and know nothing of its threatening splendour.
If only One was so worthy
For its very mystery
is far too perilous to gaze upon.
HaterI am Hated, So why fear?More Like This
To save myself the torments of
Persecution, ridicule and
I speak truth, foolish ears
Will discount my wisdom
For noise, that travel side them
Unwelcomed and despised
My conscious is left unharmed
By the blasphemies and
Gossips that loved to frolick
Amongst the wind
For every ear,
Eager for the lies
Of the truth
And when they grow tired
They will rid of my existance
No longer to hear my words
Nothing if physical means
Will irate their 'Absolute minds'
Low and behold!
'Fore my last breath is used
The head-filled of my teachings
Will spread like wild fire
Generations to come
Will know, every bit of me
Portraits willl be praised
My name known and powerful
As well as loved
Fools will deject one's wits
They've no possesion of
Until, finally one recognizes
It and all its treasures
I am hated but, My mind rests easy
DealHabit over a lfeMore Like This
Many willing to pay
To feed the hunger
Stowing the pain
Costs so cheap
To its true full price
Effecting as ice
The takeover slow
Yet ever rapidly
Til one notices
Your feet's disibility
Leave is a struggle
Abandoned out the
For every which way
Is the same direction
Mind set in stone
Attached like skin
Is always filled in
All the hands
To be lent
Has the touch
Wants of alone
Wail out a sore throat
And tear stained face
Sinks her own boat
Wants of need
Are smothered and exempted
Such thoughts should never
As the story goes
It'll probably end sad
Living the life they wish
They never had
Only thing to do is mourn
And move on
No point spending time in
Something already gone
From the start
Can anybody hear me?Can anybody hear me?More Like This
The silence is so deafening
Why do you feel so far away
The darkness seems to be surrounding me
and I'm barely hanging on
I know your here with me
but it seems so hard to believe.
Can anybody hear me?
The silence is so deafening
Why do you feel so far away
Believing what I can't see is hard
especially when the walls are closing in.
Can anybody hear me?
The silence seem so deafening
Why do you feel so far away
but I'm hold on to your word,
because you never failed me before.
I know you can hear me!
even when the silence is deafening
though you seem so far away
your here with me
But I need the faith to see,
nothing can seperate me from your love...
Whale Songs of the PacificListen, the girls swallowed by whales are the ones that grow up lucky.More Like This
Listen, no one will warn you about the little boys with the magpie eyes and the fists swinging splinters of glass. No one will warn you that their smiles are sweeter than their words are sweeter than their souls are sweeter than their intentions. No one will warn you of the sheer weight of the world.
Listen, sometimes girls are fragile. Sometimes girls are frothy. Sometimes girls let boys nuzzle "I love you"s into their necks and sometimes girls drink the wine of believing them.
Listen, sometimes the boys really are sweet, and little girls' tart puckered mouths can't taste the difference.
Listen, writers are the ones that drip fishhooks down their throats to coax out their hearts. Writers are the ones who fling those heart-hooks into the sea even if they have a message but not a bottle. Listen, sometimes fish swallow them. Some of those fish sink to the bottom of the ocean with the weight of the world in those heart
Mommy MommyMommy mommyMore Like This
Look at me
See what all I can be
Aren't you wowed
What can I do to make you proud
Please get out of bed
I'm tired mistaking you to be dead
Please don't cry
You and step daddy don't have to say good bye
Did I do good
I did the best that I could
I didn't mean to make you part
And make step daddy break your heart
No need for shame
I will take all the blame
Please don't date
It really is something that I hate
Don't leave me again
Can't you see I'm in so much pain
Please come back
Your heart has turned black
I don't want to watch the young one
Can't the dates be completely over and done
Are you even my mom anymore
Because you just seem like an uncaring whore
I hope you're happy
Because you've lost me
I Can't Devour You, Not YetI Can't Devour You, Not Yet:More Like This
I long to taste the sweetness of your flesh,
To roll your meat between my tongue and teeth.
So many times have I come - so close -
To taking that first bite from your neck.
Yet, there is something about you,
A scent perhaps or a sickly sap.
It turns bitter upon my tongue,
Poisoning it; I am left unable to eat...
Much like the caterpillar, covered in spines,
Each bite would spew only bitter venom -
Numbing my senses and dulling the mind;
It would leave me naught but a gormless wreck!
Even so, despite me knowing of the repugnant taste,
I am drawn toward you, like a moth to the flame.
May my wings crumble in the heart of the fire -
& body be turned to dust and ash...
If only for the chance to feast once more!
Ah, my dear - I will have you.
& on that day it will be so sweet.
But for now - I'm afraid that -
I must leave this as a mere - tantalizing - fantasy...
-Chen Yuan Wen, 12th December 2012
RosesYou love too much, I am told by a man with a briar heart, thorny sinews and collapsed ventricles bearing down on him, hardly beating in his tight chest. He looks at me with flat, slate eyes, chipping and eroding. His hands are dark with cigarette burns and rough with calluses; I feel them on my shoulders as he looks down at me, face collapsing in at his eyes like a dead man's.More Like This
For the first time, I realize he is dead. His briar heart dried up when winter killed his rose; my father, he is all thorns.
He squeezes my shoulders, too tight. You look like your mother, you know, he whispers, eyes shifting to the garden, to the yellow rose I planted for her. It is a rambler, sending shoots to the sky that sink back down. We never gave it a trellis. I loved her too much. And there are tears in his eyes, wet, heavy things that slip down his cheeks and on to the grass below us.
I don't know what to say, so I think of the rose, of her. I think that I'd like to send this
ArielI am not your deity,More Like This
a bowl of stars
in your cereal
revolves around something
bigger than me
I'm your fucking
groceries that end
up in the garbage
with your hair clippings
grease on a crummy
of what you want
to call home
you can't count on me
or I'll come away
in your hands
like broken-up bread
please don't think of me
before you go to bed
I won't answer your prayers
open my eyesdead summer holdsMore Like This
an afternoon heat haunt
ghost in my periphery,
chin to shoulder
to glimpse and--
left so soon?
or only the billowing
white curtain cotton
reaching into sunlit room
close, dying stars
have such long
Circus of Fleeting BreathI worshiped you,More Like This
Madly thrumming against the walls.
You looked past me,
Unaffected by my broken rhythm.
You summoned darkness to surround me
In my naivete, strangling the light
To mock my vain attempts
At earning your attention,
But, in striking contrast to my flailing limbs
Drumming out my desperation
Against your cold stone,
You did not move.
Dance. Dance. Dance with me--
The repetition of my futility.
You wouldn't even do me the honor
Of holding me at arm's length.
Mesmerized by my disjointed movements,
As random nerve endings fired.
They saw only my self-destructing.
You were the constant--
So constant that, to them,
You became the scenery
Unnoticed by my motion.
They didn’t know the reason
For my dissonant beating against the concrete;
Trying to change what is certain,
But I was their little circus of fleeting breath.
They, too happy to observe
The funny sight that didn't concern them,
Would not bestow the gift of death,
And so, I danced.
partly used partsI met up with this Russian girl at a local Mediterranean place and while she was slipping hummus covered pita bread past her red apple lips, I was thinking of the life we would have.More Like This
How she would keep me up with what she would dub “anti-folk” music which was really odd vocals and off-sync piano accompaniment. She would be loud, in her laughter, in her smile, in her fucking, in her love for me but insecurities would tip-toe in and out while we were spooning.
She would whisper for me to call her “dorogaya moya” and she would call me “krasavchik”.
She would have grown up listening to classical music and famous Russian bards like Vladimir Vysotsky but she would concede to liking my very Independent “American” songs I would write endlessly for her.
Her silliness would be the most endearing thing to me, how she would ask if they would make a statue of us and how she would sing so earnestly about meatballs in refrigerators but her serious side
A Gypsy's TravelsI assigned myself a visionMore Like This
and resigned myself to a gypsy's travels.
I wandered the precincts
pawning my trinkets for change
instead of cash, collecting experiences
the hue of a prophet's intuition,
a pallet full of perfect memories
painted across the landscape.
I ignited ideas as incense
as I read my lucky cards by candlelight,
melted wax poured out as libation
to the pathways my feet have etched out.
stretching staccatoswait there or run to meMore Like This
stand still or come to me--
your mind is a china cup
and my hands are shaking
as they have since I was young.
these teeth chatter till my head splits
open spilling bottomless love into dreams
to seep out of the faults in figments, reality;
it will mend you. I promise
it will fix you up
give me time to steady sta-sta
in the meantimethe sunMore Like This
following the moon--
a harsh mistress
pale-lighting an animal farm of mice and men
run by a god of small things;
and their eyes were watching god,
the beautiful and damned,
as he seared a thousand splendid suns
into a blank bluest-eyed sky
dyed then set to soak in the ink of night.
these faults in our stars burn holes into homemade
wish-propelled sails as we seam along a crack in the line
of time believing we are the wild things
we are only leaves of grass--
here lies the infinite jest.
the modern day runawayher distant memoriesMore Like This
gave way to dreams of
blurred birds and
of grass touching
bare skin of hesitant
soft-step foot paths through
insecurity creeps as hidden
snakes, only the rustling heard
only a forgotten gasp heard
by her sleeping partner
and in the morning
she retreats to the chill of
insulated rooms and the ac drip;
she falls asleep,
this time, to the
cubicle shrill phone ring
and she dreams
nonsensefake and fineMore Like This
the fucking farce--
is fancied philosophy
for fatherless fools.
Fragile--FFM Day 7Lindsey Stirling blared from my ear buds and I bobbed my head, furrowing my brow. My hand was shoved deep into my purse, searching for my keys. Instead, I found receipts from the Stone Age, a collection of seashells from last year's vacation, and enough pepper spray to blind at least twenty bears.More Like This
Frustrated, I dumped my portable landfill on the welcome mat; lipstick tubes and loose change bounced across the wood and disappeared, lost beneath the porch. Spreading objects out with my hands, I sighed. No keys. "Damn it all to Hell and back ag--"
Glancing up, the box near my door caught my eye. Wrapped with neon-colored paper, a large skull-and-crossbones bow held a handwritten "FRAGILE" note in place. The colors were garish, clashing with the ivory siding.
Wrinkling my nose, I pulled the package toward me, keys forgotten. The paper was slick, slipping against the pads of my fingertips like silk. Examining the box, I flipped the "FRAGILE" note over--and gasped.
Yanking the ear
Mind PicturingThe eyes are the mind's cameraMore Like This
The pictures I take of you are stored only in my mind
However, sometimes I wish I could print them
So you could see yourself
the way I see you
steps.humans were made to run barefoot.More Like This
we were made to climb mountains, fighting gravity
and to fly across stony deserts and dangerous forests.
we were not made for these,
these bastardizations of heels and soles and
humans were made to run barefoot,
we were always meant to leave traces of ourselves
on everything we touched, every inch
of the world that we would walk.
we were always meant to take with us
the scars left by the walls we would climb,
the bruises left by the falls we would take,
the hard skin and the instant familiarity left
by the paths we would forge
so worry not.
you were never meant to feel the skin of this earth
through designer heels and combat boots.
you were only ever meant to feel the weight of yourself,
a breathing, bleeding, human
charged with electric emotions and spinning
out of control
upon the ground,
meant to break yourself on the roads you paved
and the dreams you wrought in sto
Bedtime Stories : The Tree That Was Seen*The Tree That Was Seen*More Like This
Once upon a time, on a planet far away, there lived a little tree. But this was no ordinary tree, no, this little tree could speak. She could speak to the Sun, oh what bright conversations they would have! Every morning he would greet her with a loud, boisterous HELLO!!! and then the two would talk for hours.
They talked about the brightness of his light, his magnificent rays, the perfect symmetrical shape of his body, and how healthy he made her leaves. But before long, the Sun would go to sleep, and a smaller, dimmer, shy little moon would appear in the sky.
He watched over the tree every night, but had never, not even once, said hi. The little tree, being a lover of the day, would fall to sleep, and wait for sunrise. And so it was every day and night, the Sun would shine, the Moon would pass by.
Days, turned to years, and the tree grew strong in the Sun. The Sun, would gloat about what he accomplished. "Look, dear Tree, and see what I've made you! I'v
Wistful"I am the boy who wants to loveMore Like This
your misshapen words,
your broken hearted pieces,
your ink split fingers.
I am the boy who wants to kiss
those scar tattooed arms,
that tear stained face
mend what has been broken.
I am the boy who can
make your heart
sing poetry again."
If only he would say it
like he had
We Kissed...It tasted of rainwater and warmth and something real—something alive.More Like This
It was a mistake and I can't fix it but I don't think I even want to.
It lingered on my lips like a stain and dyed my insides nervous.
It hurt me like nothing else and I can't breathe any more because I'm scared—so scared.
It was too rushed and teeth clattered and glasses brushed and why—why am I so awkward?
It felt like something rumbling under my feet and I didn't know what; but then I realised it was just me being me.
It needed to last forever because not enough things do that and maybe I want something like that (even if I deny it).
It was bitter and possessive and I couldn't let go.
It was my first.
It was our last.
It made me forget.
It made me remember.
It broke me but in that good way like breaking emergency glass in an emergency or breaking a ruthless military regime or breaking my fast in the morning with cereal and toast or like breaking the seal on a jar when no one else co
Victory in defeatAmid the horror and the bloodshed, weeping,More Like This
I dared to look at my loathed foe.
He smirked and then he promised:
“If you bow down to me,
upon my word, it
ends. Bow to me,
and go home.”
EyesLook at me when I'm in pain,More Like This
your gentle eyes they keep me sane.
Reminding me about tomorrow,
softest light piercing wretched sorrow.
My heart to joy and caution thrown,
I know that I am not alone.
Seam StressThe heaviness settled in like an anvil being dropped on me. I couldn't take the fog inside my head and the lead inside my heart anymore, so I sat in the sun to melt it away. I wanted to sear every surface until I couldn't feel anymore. What kind of life is that, though, to never feel anything? To never feel the joy of love; the way it wraps its arms around your heart and traces its fingertips along your veins? Even the pain of looking back at love's scattered memories is necessary to understand how beautiful the feeling once was; how lucky you were to have ever felt its lips press to your cheek, its breath collect in the hollow of your neck. Love does these things, sews itself right up inside you to close the holes within.More Like This
You'll be told you'll find another. You'll be told to go, go and find happiness because all this is, is hurt, and nothing else. The problem is, your heart doesn't understand the complexities of bad timing or fear or settling for another because of low self-worth. You
Dissection of Exhaustioni am tired.More Like This
there are the days that i walk in and out of the cafeteria in and out in and out, like i am walking on a huge record playing some silent song, but there is no song. there is just fear. my therapist tells me that i am not getting enough protein and that is why my thumb twitches over the screen like a fly having a seizure, but i don’t believe her until we map out my entire week’s intake chart. i need evidence, i say. you need evidence that your muscles, your intestines, you eyelids are dying a slow death? she asks me. yes, i reply, yes, because i have been dying for years and the only evidence i’ve ever had was inside my head. well, she snaps, this isn’t inside your head. are you happy now?
no. i’m just tired.
it’s been weeks now that i have spent feeling like a hologram, hovering over some high-tech projector that no one can see. nobody wants something that they can’t keep here, and i cannot control my own thinking, and i am slipping
HeatThe air runs thick through my windpipes,More Like This
empty chest, blank stares,
I sit down and watch you burn,
smoldering sunlit skin,
I cross my legs and light a cigarette off of your flaming flesh,
love is patient, love is kind,
but I'm a bitch,
with alligator blood and aching gums,
I take pleasure in knowing that it stings as you inhale,
your lungs collapse and now you're heaving on the floor,
I stand up and turn to go,
then my lips form into a satisfied wildcat's grin
as I blow the smoke off of your barbed wire bones,
this isn't science,
this is feeling,
and I'm feeling really fucking hot.
Nightmares, Light, and the Experience of DyingI've got nightmares in my veins,More Like This
raw lips and peeled back skin,
you haunt me in the divide,
in the spaces in between,
cut me open,
open at the ankles,
my dreams will escape through my feet,
I once dreamt I was a wolf,
I was everything, I was nothing,
I was throaty growls and teeth tearing into flesh,
give me venison, give me rabbit,
fresh game on a November night,
what happens to the feeling when you decide to let go?
To give into instinct, to intuition,
finding a place where hunger defies rational thought,
I have always been more animal than human,
more carnivore than peacekeeper,
though I have found peace in the cycle of life,
born to die, dying all the time,
thus lucidity floods my mind
and I dissolve into the ocean of death,
but if I were to die now, would I then, truly come alive?
I am not afraid,
for what is death if not a way for us to come together again?
The light that finds me in the dark,
I, a moth, cling to the flickering flames,
to the dim lamp,
I grasp for light in a fiel
normal is a six letter word.something went wrong around the eighth grade, when those mean boys followed you home, when they cornered you in an alley and pulled your hair out of its braid and told you to get on your knees because one boy had never gotten a blowjob before.More Like This
nothing happened. you got away; horrified and shaking, but you did. it was after.
when everything happened.
used to be, you’d cry when you scraped your knees, and you'd let people finish their sentences before thoughtfully adding your own – but that was before, before those boys knocked something loose in you, because now it's a cycle of not stopping. you can't stop talking or thinking, thinking all these big, bold thoughts that can take you away, that can surround you like a deep, dark tunnel, you can't stop eating because girls are supposed to smile and sometimes eating fills that emptiness inside of you, just for a minute, but then you can't stop starving because there's no time to eat, because you can't stop,
reasons to love a shy girli. men fear strong women,More Like This
but she's far from strong.
this wisp of a girl
doesn't even need a hurricane
to fall apart.
she'd glued and re-glued,
old bonds wearing thin,
but if you ask politely,
she'll let you touch her scars.
ii. her lips are fettered in rusted chains.
you'd need a crowbar to pry up
her whispered secrets.
you are not worthy to hear her voice
just as she is not worthy to give it to you.
she told me everything she knows,
and i shut it away,
kept it safe.
i tied the threads into double knots
just to make sure
they wouldn't curl away from me,
twisted up like a dead spider's legs.
iii. she is hewn from shadow,
woven from grains of sand.
you might think she'd flow,
breeze by on a sparrow's breath,
but she's never been good at
anything but sinking.
she is buried treasure, and all
the things you wish you could forget.
iv. you found her washed up on the shore,
drawing pictures of her flickering soul,
and knew she was too unsteady to love.
when you reached for her heart,
Boats and BirdsLike geese in a parkMore Like This
You’re always begging me for bread
That I don’t carry in my purse
I’m so well rehearsed
Like a stale piece of chalkboard
Bored of the shock dose bee stings seem to bring me
When I complement their pollinating beauty
So what does it mean
If I’m pulling at an outskirt
Of a skirt I wore out to eat dessert with
You and your strawberry sugar
Obsession and hunger for?
I guess that I got
A little close for comfort
You didn’t push me off so I guess that this was your fault
And the faults in our theories often clash with ones in practice
So I practiced line by line over and over and over just to say
“I’m through. So are you. I don’t want this anymore.
Screw you and the awful things you do. And that you make me do.
I am a shipwreck worse than the Titanic, because you are no iceberg. You are my god wreaking havoc.”
And I panic on the last phrase and say
“You are my ocean I sink into”
And you say that’s so
If Point Pleasant Points That Wayhere we draw Point PleasantMore Like This
a state of mind where Sundays are infinite
midnight rolls its tongue, picks up a breeze
and I shudder, stutter at the cold
i’d go as far as wrapping my hands around my neck
a chokehold for warmth
if it weren’t for the fingers already there
cuticles whisper into a jugular vein
“I can’t hear you. I can’t see you. I can’t feel you.”
you must be real
This is Affliction. This is Paradise.
I promised him redemption and it must have slipped my mind
when I slipped off a pedal and crashed into you
“you are saved” I boomed
like the righteous man with 10% reverence and 90% cyanogen
you are fifty seconds brilliant
and thirty years colloquialism
for “pain is pleasure and pleasure is torture”
you do it well, I know it well
but Point Pleasant proposed a getaway
and when Death took a holiday
I decided that I might as wel
You, Artist/I, WriterI used to dream of nebulas, grey geese, and atomic bombsMore Like This
When I told you, you asked how it looked
And I told you “terrifyingly colorful and ecstatically chaotic”
Unaware that in your head, those words were nothing
I tried again the next day
I told you “beautifully disastrous with a dash of sympathomimetic simulation”
And you laughed, saying that all disasters contained beauty
You painted a serpent with a bridal veil
As if somehow, it illustrated your point
I wrote a sonnet of sunshine in the middle of the night
And inspired, you drew a phantom drenched in gold jewels
On the third day, I told you it was “a nightmare clenched in the jaws of a merman”
And you stared as if you couldn’t comprehend my words
“A picture’s worth a thousand words,
but who would bother with that many words in the first place” I muse
You shrug and pull out your latest masterpiece
A fish swallowing Alcatraz whole
“Maybe, a picture isn’t worth m
Broken Sleep, Red LipstickI am only an insomniac when it rains. The pitter patter of the raindrops reminds me of the pitter patter of cat paws.More Like This
(He liked to sleep at my feet when I could barely think, just to make me feel better. I think you used to tell him to.)
I wish I could wrap your memories around my spine and wear them as a backbone, because they are stronger than the arch my broken spined back seems to have developed of late.
(Spines are oddly brittle, and a lot like wrists. Easy to break and forever to heal.)
But I cannot depend of any of that anymore. So I wear red lipstick and high heels and go to parties and tell strangers how amazing they are to be wearing red lipstick and high heels and how different they must be to come to this party instead of the other one.
(All because you would hate parties and think nightlife is so stupid.)
It is what I do with my insomnia. Because my spineless back, the memories of you incessantly looped in my sleeplessly addled brain and the raindrops
Could someone please unlock my heart?I wish to unlock my heart,More Like This
To be able to speak my feelings.
Not only the fear that is hanging over my head,
I want to tell people what I think.
- Where’s the key to my heart?
You carry so much inside,
Secrets, love and hate.
Such a strong word and used for so much,
Think about it for a second.
Hate is deep and strong,
It can fill your life and make you miserable.
I wish to get over the feeling of hating people,
But you’ve caused me such pain that I can’t forget,
It’s important to be able to forgive.
But for those of us who are used,
It isn’t easy to ever forgive or forget.
The feelings I want to show and tell are still locked away.
Locked away in my heart.
Will someone please give me the key?
.i really do think that when i finally break,More Like This
i will shatter along the darting lines of my spiderweb scars
just like the doe-eyed porcelain doll my mother thinks i am.
If I Should Die TonightIf I should die tonight, let it be known that I never wanted to hurt youMore Like This
If I had another way to leave, a ship to a faraway place
I would have gladly done so
But there are no islands, no mountains, no reaches of outer space
Where I can escape my own mind
So I watch the sand in my hourglass swirl away
And I think of the days past to bide my time
Remember that summer day at the fair, the Christmas Eve last year, the time we jumped in the lake at four in the morning
Remember the time your lizard died and I wasn't there
And the time I said I hated you
Or when we didn't talk for a month
Remember the good and the bad
And everything in between
Because you'll need those memories when I can't remind you any more
Remember for me, because soon I won't be able to
And my pain will end just as yours will begin
Really, I never meant for that
But there's no other way for it to end
Because even if I lived, you'd still be without a friend
So let me go
Before I hurt you any more
And as my hourglass grind
(oh, you were danger.)you are standing in the surf,More Like This
and you are holding out
a nail-bitten hand across the sea,
where confidence has become your only virtue
standing still while the waves
surge against your waist.
you are wearing polka dots,
something less than that,
like red and black and
the strings of your bikini hang
while the ocean keeps you close
while the fog obscures your face,
this smile that has never really played
across your lips.
you are danger
in a way you have never been before:
the ocean knows it, the birds know it,
the salt soaked beach,
wearing away at the edges of your hips -
and across a minefield symphony
I can walk to you now, and fill my lungs
with ground that I can't see
and air that is too thick -
your hair in soaking strands,
your breath and your skin cold
your words a clam's lips apart
I owe a good overseas Thanksgiving to a Guinness Thanksgiving to me is not store bought or bread - it lies inside each one of us and the more we see and know how life exists in other parts of the world, the more we recognize the reasons to be thankful.More Like This
True story: never argue American politics or facts in an Irish pub -- they keep up on what we're doing a lot closer than we do.
I'm at the bar in a pub in Dublin, sipping on a Guinness which was long overdue. An Irish gentleman comes up to me and says, "You are an American, aren't you?"
"You know, you people don't give a shite for the rest of the world. Only about 2% of your population even have a passport"
(this is what is called pub talk - we might say teasing, but I knew I'd have to think fast to cover and redeem myself in Irish society)
While frantically thinking, I'm covering my delay with a Looooong sip of that Guinness.
I reach into my wallet and pull out 2 bills and lay them on the counter:
"Sean, do you recognize these?"
"Sure" he says, "One is a five quid (Irish p