skin peels from bones, submerged in crimson liquid:
and if you were to look inside me,
damn aesthetics, break my ribcage free and
delight my lungs with your tongue of venom,
your eyes would light with glee at the
the shoe never finds
the prince dies alone.
the mirror shatters.
she is not
fairest of them all.
the kiss doesn’t work.
sees the sun again.
the house is blown down.
is completely lost.
the worst miraclereading my drunk poetry about you
makes me feel drunk again
dizzy eyed, violent desire
you’re the only calm to my storm
with respect to my past self,all of my writings have led up to
y o u and m e
and i should have known before we even started,
i warned myself before i even knew the color of your eyes
i listen to too many 8tracksi've never told anybody this,
but i'm telling you now that someday
i'm going to swim into the ocean
and never come back.
i'm going to swim so far out
that not even the largest lighthouse
could find me. i'm going
to let the seawater soak
into my veins until i'm bursting,
salty with the bitterness
of all the times i never had,
like the nights you rubbed
circles on my back. i'm going
to fight against the current, knowing
that i'll be defeated before
i even begin. it doesn't matter
that someday my body will be found
by either man or animal, for this body
is mere transport; my soul
will be of the sea, of the tides
that wash onto the shore and cling
to the sand. and maybe,
if you look closely enough,
you'll find me riding the current
probably a few weeks agoyou’re seven cups of coffee in and it’s 1 a.m.
the waffle house countertop seems
expansive in the dim light.
for the first time this night,
you deny your waitress the right
to pour you another cup.
if coffee can’t keep you awake,
you lay a tip on the tabletop when she is
bent over her phone.
she might be your age,
rings etched under her eyes
from a procession of shifts spent
waiting for the sun to rise.
outside, you spark the lighter.
smoke slides down into your lungs
then shoots back out your nose,
curls in haloes above your head.
wade out into the adjacent field of barley
where the plants are hunched over
in their opulence; teeming with granules
that beg for the harvest.
cup the soft soil in your palms,
mix it with the scintillating light from the diner,
and realize you are only just beginning to understand
the complexity of things.
saccharineshe’s made of cotton candy:
spin, twirl, break, then dissolve.
sugar rushes through her veins,
viscous, arteries clogging
from the buildup. her eyes are filmy
and she leaves a sticky residue
wherever she touches. many
find her a delight but she rarely stays
for long, her presence disappears
as their lips forget her name,
their tongues forget her taste.
she starts everywhere and ends
nowhere. parents warn their children:
stay away, she’ll make your teeth rot.
yet they persistently return
with their nickels and dimes,
insisting on just one more taste.
seasonal reflectionsi. autumn arrived with a reckoning,
the pine cones held secrets and they’d whisper
to me in the night as their sweet wood hands fell
to the ground; i tasted maple honey
while sticky fingers scraped bark
that screamed sweetly to the sunset
ii. winter came slowly, timberland
freeze and peppermint icicle swirls
on frosted puddles as cold as Siberian igloos,
Eskimo girls in bear skin hats and leather gloves;
i was never one of them but i heard
they breathe out steam in glacial time
iii. spring bloomed and so did the bruises,
black and blue like Van Gogh’s starry
night, minus the stars; my teeth grew crooked
as wildflower veins and my hair sprouted
like meadow grass, i pretended i was a coppice
nymph and at dusk i sang with the cicadas
iv. summer sought the hidden gardens,
the scorched earth cultivated secrets in barren
soil, foolish, i dug for the answers but uprooted
only last year’s seeds, tore the foundation down
with broken nails; i danced with honey feet on
It’s been a year and I can still remember waking up, disoriented and alone. You were my compass, and you left. I don’t quite know how, but I’ve managed to make my own way without you. And it hurts. God, it hurts. Sometimes I wonder where you are and what you’re doing and who are you with? Are you with someone else? Are you with him? I know you won’t ever receive this letter, that the postal service will realize how hopeless these efforts of sending this are, but I can’t help myself. I can’t help that I still think about the way your lips fit perfectly with mine or how right it felt to be with you. I know that this message will end up as one of thousands of others in the dead letter office but maybe, just maybe, it will reach you.
Six months and four days: that’s how long it’s been since he has sent the letter. He lives in New York City, in an apartment that he still has yet to pay
Theological Semanticswe are on vacation in Florida
when she asks me, “what is God?”
and i correct her, “who is God?”
and she shakes her head, repeats
“what is God?”
the sea sounds fill the gap.
i can see a storm roll in
over the ocean expanse
and i take a breath and answer:
God is all of the things that can’t be explained
with recitations and verses.
God is the space that empties itself to tangibility
and the ghosts that scream in the wind.
God is the meaning between the breaths and last night’s
whiskey running through your veins.
God is the reflection in your eyes and the mist exhaled
into January nights that evaporates under the moon.
God is the sounds too high to hear, frequencies
not meant for humanity because we would misinterpret.
God is all of the pasts that never were and all of the
futures that will never come to be.
“does that answer your question?”
and the sea washes
away our footprints
I am a writer.And I don't even care
if the world hears my story.
All I want to do
is put my ink to paper
and stain the white with all the things
you said to me
and watch the paper blacken
until you can't see the lines,
because I am a writer.
And I always carry my pen
so I can stain the world with my stories
the way you stained me.
I'll see you in the pages.
Love Is BlindWhy do you still want him after everything that he did..
You offered him your heart, body and soul,
and he damaged your soul and threw your heart like it was nothing,
he took the body and after he was done he threw it away it, too.
So, why do you still dream of him..why want someone like him..?
I Ship UsI can not measure our love
in words, but in how tight
we hug when we finally
see each other again. There
is starshine in your smile
and I could swear that you
are Aurora, wreathed in
beauty, but with less sleeping
and more ass-kicking.
You are kind and selfless,
a true paragon of love
and a goddess of all things
good. where most have blood,
you have eternal love.
all the light in the world
is simply not enough
to express the light
your friendship and
love bring to me.
Passion and excitement
exude from everything
that you do and you pour
your heart into; everything you
make, everything you touch.
When we first met, there wasn't
a doubt in my mind that I
had found one of my soulmates,
someone who could laugh
over puns and obsess over
pokemon, someone who wouldn't
judge me on anything I'd done.
A kind soul that is there
for all to see. One that has
been scarred and one I
wish to protect. Everything
you do becomes better
simply by your being there.
You are the reason I believe
in friends b
wands up your face had many names,
each one a ring in the tree of your life;
a paragon in the arts, a kind voice in the wind
you were the lighthouse in the fog,
the booming presence from above,
the firework display in Germany,
and the wizard who struck Muggle gold
in the hearts of millions;
the laughter in your halls will cease
to be mo
Midnight SkiesWild blue in your eerie eyes
is flickering like midnight skies,
it makes me mad, it makes me ache
for something more than a random heartache.
And your heart is timid like a small, untamed fox
buried deep in the ground in a black onyx box.
I want it bad, I want it now,
like a chaotic emerald necklace, someday, somehow.
You're everything and more, a misty shadow and a morning glow,
a furious fire and an icy snow,
a kingdom of gold and a crumbling throne.
GayI am gay.
I'm not a disease, I'm not a problem
I'm not an affliction
I don't need treatment.
I don't need help
I'm not sick
I'm not confused
I'm not a sin.
I am gay.
I'm your daughter
Your co worker
A complete stranger
I am gay.
I need love, just like you
I need smiles
I need support
I need a hug
I need a friend
I need a family
I need acceptance
I need understanding
I need you
I am gay.
I know what love is
I know what pain is
I know what hate is
I know what life is
I am gay.
And I need you to love me
The same way you loved me before you knew
I am gay.
And I have experienced hate
From more people than just you
I am gay.
And I wont change.
I wont give up.
I wont back down.
I wont pretend.
I wont lie.
I wont deny.
I wont hide.
I wont hurt.
I am gay.
And that's okay.
Isabella Gets Kinda Salty About FeminismTeach me how to be soft.
Like Monet paintings.
All pastel and water color
So easily washed away.
But so breath takingly pretty.
Teach me how to be quiet. (Ha!)
Like the breeze whistling through the trees.
Delicate and belonging to Spring.
Turn my hurricane winds into something you can handle.
Teach me how to be beautiful.
A paper cut out doll from your magazines, so easily ripped in to two.
But don't I look so nice in this dress?
Make my hair like silk
Instead of a mess of tangled curls.
Take your burning hot flat irons and turn every fiery red head knot into golden blonde.
Style it until I look like a Hollywood princess.
Sick and utterly gorgeous.
Am I perfect to you now?
You took my storms and made me into a colorless July sky.
But you tell me 'Smile honey'
Cameras go 'Snap snap snap'
And I can hear my heart beat in them.
You've taught me this since I was born.
But I know better now.
My pretty is unique
Like wild flowers and thunderstorms.
Vibrant and loud.
And I will not be tamed,
Through The FlameThrough The Flame:
Can you feel it in the winds?
The chilling cries of blood-lust that sing through the air...
May your people weep at the destruction that is to come;
While you mortals cower behind your wards of flesh and steel!
How does it feel I wonder,
This question I ask
To those who have spent their entire existence
Amassing power over their fellows...
Know now that your paltry gestures;
Your pseudo-might is but dust,
Cast into the violent wind of a whirling typhoon!
Now, tremble within your hovels of concrete and steel,
For I am rage incarnate and I have come to ensure,
That your world will burn...