on loving a poetyou think you love a poet, but you really love the poem.More Like This
you love the art
with which i turn brokenness into beauty but not
the stark reality that when the poem ends
when the beauty vanishes
will still be there.
i am an unfinished poem.
i'm a girl with grass-stained jeans and dirt beneath her fingernails and
the words "i love you" still taste bitter on my tongue.
i am broken
but i'm not yours to fix.
i'm not your manic pixie with ink-stained fingers and broken eyes
who scribbles sweet nothings on crumpled paper torn
from a journal filled with saccharine love poems
i'm a girl with jagged teeth and tangled hair and too many healing bruises.
you want to love me like a poem
want to change or mend or save me
but i don't need you to kiss my scars,
i need you to understand them.
darling, i can turn the chalky taste of stolen pills into beauty
but that doesn't mean i'll wake up in the morning
and it doesn't mean you'll want me to.
love poem from a pillar of saltthe words 'i love you'More Like This
have always tasted like forbidden fruit
an apple offered by a helpful serpent-
sweet and fleeting but
the words 'i loved you'
just taste of
i always thought that leaving you would be like leaving gomorrah
that i couldn't help looking back
and when i did i'd feel an ocean dry itself beneath my skin
but this is so much quieter
and so much worse.
my knuckles taste of blood,
there is no new testament here
just old testament fire
just lot's wife standing on a forgotten hill
rocksalt freezing her outstretched hands
watching her hometown burn below her.
there is no forgiveness here
just mutual loneliness
just a lost religion and a broken girl
far too tired to play pretend
watching you fall apart behind me.