0
0 0 0

lover dearest, you break like bones in my hands

do not fall in love with me

if you don't want to be broken.

i am a glass-shattering rain

my eyes are the eyes of a storm,

yours are transparent windowpanes.

when i am done with you

you will understand why hurricanes

and people share the same names.

0
3 0 3

Irregular Symmetry

This post is not available to guests, please login or register to view this post.
2
2 0 2

[title undecided]

Frenetic fireflies glinted behind her eyes that summer. I didn't know what had changed her, but she swung her arms freely, wore loose hemp bracelets with colored beads, drew wild birds with marker in the crooks of her elbows: I never knew till then she was ambidextrous. Electricity crackled and sparked between us like lightning kissing telephone wires in a midsummer storm. I kept hoping her straw-colored hair was wild and dry enough to light a fire in, but all summer long we smiled and laughed and smiled; she thirsted too much to drive her closed eyelids into the rain, so I indulged it all, glad, at least, for her presence.

Once, at school, I snuck up behind her during lunchtime as she stared intently into her white computer screen at an empty table beside the wall. As I reached out to poke her in the ribs my eyes glanced across text and the blinking cursor: Pond water festers in my veins and my heart has stopped trying to turn it into blood. I have been trying to forget myself before anyone else remembers me. I backtracked, stepped quietly away, but sometimes when she looks me in the eyes and asks me where the thunder's gone I wonder whether she heard me breathing behind her, then.

She vowed, one spring night under the stars, after hours clinging so hard to a boy's stomach as his motorbike screamed down a deserted Minnesota highway that the imprint of her clenched fists took three days to fade from his skin, to exist. This I learned after her death, after that summer, when the boy came up to the funeral podium holding a battered piece of paper that held only aimless sketches of her eyes and crumpled against it. After he left her, the only way she knew how to hold onto him was by expanding in her promise to live, and so she did wildly, desperately, swallowing soil and sunshine into her open throat to grow wildflowers out of each of her orifices. After that summer was over, they told her she had to let go. So she let autumn dry the auburn leaves and pressed her wildflowers between the pages of her journal, and as one by one the foliage fell, she let go.

0
0 0 0

Don't Forget My Name

They say that sex is more than just 
another way to numb the lonely nights.
Until now, I believed 
it would never be more than that
for someone like me.
But, when I look at you, I see everything
I've spent the last five years searching for
in the beds of men who never
remembered my name in the morning.
Don't just fuck me like the rest of them, baby,
Show me that love isn't just a word used in 
fairytales and chick flicks.
Don't forget my name.

0
0 0 0

Maybe Someday

There are nights when I sit up
wondering if things will always end this way.
I’ve spent years in the beds of men
who didn’t deserve my body
and never cared for my mind
or the thoughts that ran through it
as their fingers ran through my hair
and I refuse to waste another day
being treated like a falling star when
I was born to burn like the sun.
I am more than a temporary fix for
your lonely days,
I am more than the heart, bleeding
on my sleeve.
I am the clouds in a stormy sky
and goddamn it, someday
this rain will clear up and the darkness
raging through me will evaporate
into the most beautiful rainbow
your sorry eyes have ever seen.
Maybe someday someone will come
along who doesn’t dull
the color radiating through my
veins.
Maybe someday someone will come
along who knows what love
means.
Maybe someday.

0
0 0 0

Love Cries

Love was a boy who I saw smile

He cut through my darkness like a ray of sunshine

He illuminate all I thought was lost,

And helped me learn to ignore my demons

 

I couldn't see how he hurt 

He soaked up sadness like a dry sponge,

And darkness consumed him

He was being eaten alive

 

He looks like the love he will never feel

He drinks his own blood from a cup 

Crafted from the lies of those who said they loved him,

But the more he is filled, the greater the void in his soul

 

His eyes that once shone with mystery

Now only prove broken misery

And the once romantic idea of love

Is replaced by the sorrowful sadness

Of a love that would not be loved 

 

0
0 0 0

Waste of Gas

After a particularly long phone conversation with you,
I find myself frustrated.
(Not that that's too unusual)
It feels like we're driving in circles,
One of your favorite activities.
Driving around the same streets
For hours.
I always hated that.
It's a waste of time
And of gas. 

2
1 0 1

please stay

 

like oxygen to fire

sun to the earth

life to the heart

 

I will be consumed by your absence

 

stay

and make me your home

0
0 0 0

My best friend has fallen in love

This post is not available to guests, please login or register to view this post.
0
3 0 3

Words do no justice

 

I dreamt in poetry last night, I cannot remember a single word but I felt the art in my bones. Tried as I did to recall the pentameter it eluded my thoughts, fleeting shadows of metaphor and beauty. But you were there. This I know.

The image was spring mist and pastel blur, shifting heart-swells carried me aloft. I felt you rather than witnessed and that was far more tangible for the viewing. Perhaps there was not poetry as verse or couplet but movement and sensation, the enchanting poetry of your soul infused with my dreamscape. Whatever the truth of brushstrokes laid on masterpieces of desire, we were there and poetry was your sweet breath across my cheek.

I dreamt in poetry last night and awoke to find the stanzas contained no words, only you.