helium balloon lungsi. You write me notes scribbled on sandpaperand I run them across my face,scraping away layers of saccharine skin,ii. Your eyes, made of cookie crumbs,I'd like to dip them in milkand watch them melt,smoking like dry ice,iii. You churn my childish heartin circles and in circlestill I slip into cardiac arrest,iv. I just remembered that time youwrapped your arms around me like vinesand held me until you couldn't,v. Oh what I'd give for a pair offortune cookie lungs,inhaling intuition,exhaling self-fulfilling prophecy,vi. I've been fishing for horoscopes,pasting them onto my bedroom wallsand on the backside of my skin,hoping that they tell me thattoday is the day you will be mine,vii. But your soul is made up of sinsand I do believe in forgiveness,but forgive me, for I cannot forget.
steamI'm sprouting crow feathers from my scapulaswhile the air is much too thick to swallow,my body melts into a pool of oil,poisoning already noxious waters,Then you find me in the ocean's centerand the water starts to boilas we become the equatorand lose ourselves under the sun.
Sugar TeethSugary teeth,candy hearts,oh I'd cough up my own bloodjust to see you smile,but you taste of cotton candyand rotting lungs,making every lick of the lipsa gentle exhalation.
HallucinationsHe buries his head in the neck of a girl, who smells of flowers,her aroma plagues his inhalationslike the smoke of weeping willow trees,now as he exhales, he exhales kisses intothe long unending lines curving around her eyes like crescent moons,for she is but a shy reflection of the sunand he holds onto her like a shadow;grasping at clouds with the outline of her silhouette, using her as a tube of Vaseline, placing her over his eyes at night,oh but then the daylight washes over him like bathwater,waking him into a crisp clean airwhere she cannot rid him of his wrinkles or internal emptiness,because she only comes to life in the space where the subconscious reigns,so he continues to live beneath layers of illusions,building daydreams like skyscrapers,breathing simply to sleep.
This is not right.Coral colored candles flicker in the dark,a pale glow awakens my tender limbs,I am filled with a rage so deepit has drowned itself in sadness,my veins form shapes and symbols amongstthe shadows on my skin,they twist tight against meand then they spark againstthe flames of the floating candles,dark circles orbit my earthly eyes andI go ahead and touch my tongue to the fire,my tongue, a flint, rattles my ribsand shakes my spine,quick whispered words then paint themselvesacross my pelvis;"I am the spaces between x, y, and z",but I am also hollow bones, half a memory,and empty eye sockets,I can try to burn, to smolder, to churn,but the water fills my earsand I can no longer hear the crackleof my own sorry sins awaiting their last breath,I am just a sinking submarine with a faulty engine,but most of the time, you know, I would not change this,I may be delicate like a baby, baby spiderbut that does not mean I am not as powerful as the ocean at night,and all of these
as we become ghostsThe air is smooth and thin,running over my shoulders like buttermilk,I melt,curling wax fingersand smoke escaping my oak tree bones,I don't know where I'll end up yet butI know I'm close,and I know I'm close because I'm still breathing,inhaling that charred floral scentwhere dahlias are breeding in the curves of my collarboneand lilacs are blooming between each vertebrae,intertwining with every rib, climbing them like strands of DNA,oh you know I wouldn't mind if you used my ribs for a ladder,go ahead and use me up like some sort of construction worker,for my body is yours to take, my heart to break,but I should let you know now that this love is a disease,it will leave you in ruins with teeth like Aztec tombs rotting inside your mouth,and it will leave your hands forming empty circles in the sky where the stars should be,but all of this is okay because when we're together I can see the moon in your eyesand the sun in your lips,when they dare form a smile, your kiss
To love like a rocking horseYou are the highlight to my lonely night. You rush my mind like young currents rising onto the shore. I have no feeling in my fingertips and the air is thick and heavy and almost sweet. But these past few months have given breath to the void that lives in all of the empty places; space between ribs, backs of knees, and collarbone indentations. Oh, if only your body could bridge the gaps.You know, I am sick of writing about you, nauseous actually. I don't want to smoke your pipe only to get high off loneliness anymore. The way I have ached for you, the way I have pined, is effervescent. Do I want you only because you are not mine?No, I remember how the connection was instant and how looking at you made me nervous. Then when you first looked at me; chills.I really do need to get over these feelings though. I need to detach my heart from my spine and stitch up the places I let your soul embrace. I need to patch up the places where your light touch took me away.Screw all of this. I don
RhymeYou are irresistible,you are fine,I only wish that you were mine,I sometimes feel your arms around me,and then I open my eyes but I cannot breathe,If you were but mine to keep,my body would no longer weep,Now I feel old and older still,I love you more than my own free will.
SatellitesI cannot sleep and I cannot wake,there is this new weighted feeling I get most afternoonswhere I'm sinking below sea level,tracing geometric shapes onto my geologic limbs,and no wonder love feels so rockywhen mountains are carved into our lips,gravel our hips,and we use our rockwall skin to climb each other,but I need your page turning palms pressed against my winter worn waist,and I need your sun to be my moon,because we are ultraviolet lights in an unbound galaxy,so let me collapse into your event horizon,let me sway along the depths of your Caribbean,then let me breathe beneath your carousel stained skin,for I need youalways and foreverand then even more than that.
Soakeda rainbowspectrum ofsoft bruisesnestles inthe spacebetween herfingertipsand heartbeat.a silent reminder ofall the nightsshe spent inthe solitudeof yourcompany.
the first taste of creativitydrizzled succulentmemorieswander childhoodpastry of new realitiestastedsticky fingersthe learning ofexperiential consuminghoney crustedexcalamations circlein the ringed coneprogresselevation of comprehensiondevelopmentof likescavitesdislikesglucose levelschomp existencecaloric wonderstravel vast synapsis inreformationof the forumulastrained vegetablesleft now behindin deep cacao basedwonderlandsartistry in confectioninspires seratonin elevationbuds flowerthe mind seedthrough tongueto a fair firstelemental matingof soulto the powerof hunger drivencreativity
Stepping Over LeavesAnd so I tried to hold your lettersthe way you used to hold my hand;fingers spaced between torn edges andaround undotted i's.Guiding me awayfrom those gentle autumn leaves thatI had loved to crunchso very much.But instead, I stepped against the sunspotsof every promise you had brokentrying just to pull some meaning from a sentenceending with "goodbye".And when my eyes began to slide over the words you had misspelled,I closed your noteand tore it into nothing.Nothing but a sad reminder that once again you had crackedlike those gentle autumn leavesthat I had lovedso very much.
Sky EyesDesert hands tell talesof a hundred arid summers, butyou are no longer as cloudless as they(there is a stormcreeping through blue, blue veins).But tell the sky to keep her sorrow,that grey cascade blurring againsteyelids and horizons;and suppress her misbegottendroplets, seeping into the soddenground underfootfor there is still sun in your sky eyes.
The River RamblesWe cut each other halflong (simplecell division) to find answers;nothing spills out and nothingfloods in and nothingever changes.It is a bleak burden, thisstargazer syndrome, near-sighted symphonicstrangers sipping endless streams of dataexchanging bits and bytes in and of the void.Dark chasmal pocketsfull of doubt, full of fever and strife;we odds and end-less ebbs flowback to the seaas we are teased by landfall.
gone soonI died todayDo you miss me?I jumped over a bridgeDo you feel sorry for me?I ingested a bottle of pillsDo you worry for me?I slit my wristsWould you care for me?I was quiet todayDid you even notice?
What time is it?She was standing at the departure platform and looked to the ground. Cold wind blew around her, but she barely felt it. A voice announced that the train would arrive six minutes later.It didn't matter, nothing mattered anymore. She looked upwards, at the big clock hanging from the ceiling, saw the clock-hand jerk forward, with every second passing. It had started to rain.She looked around; there were a lot of other people at the platform. They were listening to music, talking to each other, reading a book, some were even laughing. Others just stood there waiting impatiently. A young couple were holding hands, kissing each other. Again she turned her eyes to the ground.She felt like crying, but the tears did not came. She wondered if she had wept too much lately. The voice announced that the train would arrive shortly. She looked to the right, could see the lights in the distance, growing bigger as the train rushed to the station.She took one step forward to the border of the platfo
The PrecipiceTwo friends walk side by side. Hands bumping along next to each other, but never clasped. They laugh. They cry. They delve into mountains to find the treasures buried therein. They climb out of the depths, striving for the sunlight but blinded when they get too close. They continue on their path into nothingness. Barren land in all directions, save for the occasional mountain. Usually they will climb to the top. Sometimes going under. Rarely going around.On and on they go. Time becomes inconsequential. Have they been walking for two minutes? Or two millennia? It doesn't matter. They jest. They talk. They spend days in silence, happy just to have the other there- with nothing needing to be said. They fight too. But never for too long. Being right isn't important. Not as important as having someone there. Someone to carry you when sick or injured. Someone to support, to have on your back, to protect. Never a burden.They reach a cliff. They'd seen it coming for a while. Everyone did. Th
High WaterIt took eleven weeks for my stomach to stop turning.White water reality, broken hands, splintered paddles.If you ever felt inclined to place your head against my chest again,you wouldn't hear a heart beat over the roar of water in my lungs.If you ever desired to wrap your arms around my waist,you would find that there is far less warmth to hold onto.For now, we drown in the perfect darkness of canyon waters.Like infant gods, we chose to carve these wounds intothe very foundation of our fabricated universe.Deeper than the initials of youthful lovers.Further inward, past yellow bone and soured marrow.We've been forever spoiled by the idea of our own greatness.(But when my body washes upon the shore, I will always try to find you.)
She BelievedS[he] Be[lie]ve[d] and now S[he's] Br[ok]en.Once upon a time,She believed the things he said.Once upon a time,She'd have rather been dead,Lying right beside him,Than alive and with him gone,But now he's lied,And left her broken inside,And all she can do is weep,Because although her wound is deep,He is still okay.
that girlThat girl is a lieShe gobbles up your words like cotton candyShe drinks you in like lemonade in the summerShe has your heart around her fingerIt's like she owns you if she gets madyou beg for forgiveness You don't hurt herShe's fragile You sayShe's beautiful You tell meYou don't see her
Secrets and subtletiesThrough the haze, my eyes will beg for crispness.STOP. before you warp me raggedrotten wood; the stench ofdecay,support. When death bleeds steel;metallic ice cream. She speaks of sweetness;I found the hilarity to be more or less gag-worthy, still laughter bellowed from my jaws with arrogant consistency.Those candied-apple lips withheld a tart hint of "Taste Me" but I had always been smart enough to recognize poison.they packaged beauty in atomic bombs radiation morphed limbs clutching clinging to destruction. and it's pathetic, but what else could I expect from you?</b>Stardust glittering against skin.This galactic precision has moon shards sliding down my arm and now the wrists streak comet tails.I am not death, t
Tempation is an Awful ThingResist the urgeTo cut, to feelI am numbnothing's realContemplateThe hungry bladeThe thick liquidA lovely shadeNeed to knowI'm still aliveBut cut too deepMight not surviveI think I'll keepThe blade at baySaved for anotherTime, another day
Saltit's one of thosegoldfish bowl empty afternoons,dehydrated,gills grasping for water,fresh daylightspilling over my aquatic limbs,so thin boned and cold-blooded,swordfish lips so sworn toseahorse secrets,i cannot see a way out of drowningin all of thisopen air,my fins lie stillas does my two-chambered heart,you never actually did need any bate,i hooked myself,then released my own salty ghost,you only just laid me out to dry,gutted and seizing.