palpitationsMy veins,blue born licorice whips,weaving webs for blood spiders on my thighs,thin cerulean shoelaces tying knots around my wrists,hold fast, heartbeats pumping like gasoline,I am living, but I am not alive.
i want you because i shouldn't want you at alli want you like i want succulent strawberries dripping over a white lacy dress,i want you like i want complete silence on a sweltering august night,i want you like it's dead rats melting over hot gutters and then it's your hot guts on my body.i want you and your collarbones tied to my strings of saliva,i want you smelling like you're some wild wolverine with incisors as sharp as rose petals,i want you broken and bleeding just so i can nourish your wounds.i want you dangerously close and always so,i want you angry as you are passionate,i want you in ways i don't even understand.
you are my careful ghosti. The air is thick and I'm drinking you in like sunlight through a silver straw,I'm feeling like my spine has come unzipped and my crayola red innards have become exposed to the cool air,you're like the slivers in my fingers that I can't pull out,maybe I should try scraping off layers of skin with tweezers,goodbye dead cells, hello fresh meat,damn, why are you so fresh as fuck.ii. A whirlpool has developed beneath my chest so there goes my sense of sanity,actually it's more like boiling water, bubbling, spewing out passed my eyes,and all I've been asking for is for you to either take me or let me go,let's be honest, I could try to say I am over this whole thingbut I'm not and I don't even want to be.iii. So let's forget the world,get lost in each others skin,tracing ribs like jail bars,running hands over heartbeats,brushing lips with lonely aches.
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.
cratersI like to think that over this past year you've come to understandthat my heart is a cratered sunand my veins make up constellations across my vulnerable vertebrae,because when I close my eyes,it's you that my subconscious summons as I sleep,There's just something about you that completely electrifies my skin,your touch draws conclusions between the freckles on my forearmsand I'm left wondering how you even connected the dots,But you make me nervous in a young kind of wayand there's this fragile sense of longing that I'm not quite sure i understand,although tonight I could feel your laugh settle between my palms like a lost lamband for a moment I let your innocence brush over my fingertipsand it felt like that moment was ours and ours alone,So let's hold onto railroadslike we're about to be run over,and let's hold onto candlesuntil our waxen limbs burn down to the wick,and let's hold onto each otherwhile the stars drip down over our shoulders to melt away our sins.
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.
Tenderi ama taxidermy fawn,existing yet comatose,my soul flickers within a lantern,releasing a smoke with the scent ofpheromones and vanilla verbena, but your necromantic whisperslinger in my ears,so sweet and succulent as peaches,animalistic instinctsgive me breath,filling my lungs upon a full moon,oh i'd so like to take a bite of you,you and your jungle bred lips,tropical to taste,organic to kiss,jaguar, leopard spotscover your skinin patterns painted by the forest,then a low, throaty growlslips from your jaw,haunting me like a past mistake,but you are wild bambooand the sound of my heart beating,palpitating against soft winters,pulsing with the rhythm of summer,for some reason you suit mein all seasons,and like gravityyou hold medown,so no, i cannot escape you,for no one can bypassan autumnal equinoxor an eclipse of the sun,you only continue tokindle the flamesyou used my wooden ribs to makeand i truly lovethat searing sensation in my gut,
I dreamt of a flood and you were the waterLight bulb eyes,burning through me likeelectric currents,Your wavescrash into meas I dream,your ocean spits me outthrough seaweed teeth,and I love you,but you blink lightand breathe water,so not only am I blind,I am drowning.
hey boy, I'm bleeding without youI guess you could say I've been infatuated with death,but I'm even more consumed by youin the deadliest way possible.
Ignore AdviceWrite ten bad poems.Write one hundredbad poems.Write profoundly.Write and drink.Keep a notebook with you,write in publicand make sure that othersknow that you are, in fact,writing.Write a love poem,then throw it awaybecause all the good oneshave already been read.Ignore advice,write about the decisioninstead of the feeling.Write one sentence-make indents,say to yourself thatthis is it, THIS is IT.Then delete,and tell yourself that again.
MonophobiaYour hand found my heart with ease,just as your words always found cracks in weakened armor,and with the same fluidity that constantly drew my gaze,filling me with childish need atop the comfort of company,even if lonely:we were never ones to stand individually.Then you play my heart strings,with the skill of devoted pianists and the poiseof Egyptian princes,garbed in such confidence I have no choice but to move my lipsto words hummed beneath your steady breath;the words my heart stammers over,as weak a fool as ever.Necessities mash like fevered lips,merging us as one being,one entity of which to rejoice with proclamations of fragile love.and when our lips do make war,I kiss you into my own oblivion,drawing you deeper inside me to dwell and comfort,though you decay fleshly wallsand expanding sacks of breath,of life;a bloody clash of love producing broken wills and suchtwisted affections,mangling us further towards impending destruction:so horribly
unzippedi.it was all skinned kneesand stop signs between us.we pushed too hardor not hard enough.ii.the last star i wished uponturned out to be a satellite,and the last time i kissed youreally wasn't the last time.the scent of romance- pine needlesand sawdust clung to my shoulderswhere your fingers left goose fleshwhen i least expected it.iii.i'd be tangled up in you and bed sheetsif i didn't know you better than that,[sweetheart,] you're thunderstorms onSaturday nights and "Why don't you stayfor awhile"'s and the infidelitiesthat line my cheeks.
ifif i could fall in love with you,i'd yank the blue sky from its perch and wrap it around yourshoulders like grandma's woollen blanket;i'd extract the spirit frombetween your toes and douse your eyes in it, so maybethen i'd understand what makes your thoughtsturn 'round;and i'd write the words ofa love-bitten victim on the insides of your wrists, just tomake sure i won't find scratches there in themorning.if i could fall in love with you,i'd glue your sentences on the walls, and tell everyonethe paint was peeling anyway; and i like falling asleepto the scent of your ink-spelt feelings;and i'd give away the coffee thatkeeps me upright every day, if only to rub the nightmaresfrom underneath your ragged fingernails;and maybe i'd evenname a skin-deep butterfly after you because my superstitious naturewould still my fingers; and you'd have claim of myscars.if i could fall in love with you,i would not speak your name anymore because it would tastetoo sweet &
cobblestones.i pulled a napkin from the silver tin,wiped the table clear, drops of ketchup staining the center.i crushed the paper in my palm, felt the dampness reach the edges.hurt cloud, she said as i let it roll across the table..shooting baskets as the day ended,the ball went over the backboard, disappeared into the dark.she shrugged, then bent low, picked up pebbles.aimedand threw..your poor hands, she said. you have so many scars,and you're still so young. (she, younger than i, saying this)she touched one hand, then after a pause she took the otherwithout looking at me.some things take so much courage.we sat like that for a long time,perfectlystill..i passed two old women by the river.one stopped, pulled off her shoeand shook a pebble out.it dropped into the waterand she continued on,limping slightlyfrom the absence dented into her foot.the other had stopped a ways ahead.she waited and said, a pebble?the woman nodded. her whole lifehaving
OhFingers in front ofyour eyes,laced in light.The arid, shiftingdesert of your palms.Sand in the beachgrass,dancing.Listen to the shell:it will teachwhat is alive.Tell your children it was the ocean.The whole worldcan hear you breathe.Are you innocent yet?Fishnet stockingsand long, dark hair.That emptymoment.May she never hear the namethat you whisper through the dark.
InsomniaA miniature moon floats sleepilyatop my open window;a drifting continent siftingover shivering tree tops.Watery clouds explore along thebroken crest of atoms,fingers rolling in the shadowsof its dimensions.My skewed sight steadily begins torepaint the scattered stars andone by one like raindrops,they burst across the skyBreathing down in thoughtful shaftsupon the inside of my eyelids.I'm thankful to be an insomniac.
TroyYou have too much time on your hands, Love,folding paper cranes with broken fingers,wishing to see northern lights in the eyes of strangers.There are no lions between your bed sheetswho understand your hunger better than I-You are licking my wounds; one with the wild.I swear it's you behind these eyelids- untamedand desired by this lonely poetic canvasstained with blood, ink, and words I can't fucking say.You look like a Goddess standing there reading my skinquiet and shameless, proud of the gaping hole in my chest.I know it then, like I know my own counterclockwise heart;I should never trust my own kind."I'll build you up, my Troy, just to tear you down again."And I whispered please, please, please...
cadavershe was born with arctic lipsand overcast skin.her hair fell like fresh snowand she was far too thin.her bones in locked closets,joints creaked and shriekedlike a rotten floorboardunder gossamer feet.
Encroaching TerrorHuckle-hunting crack-backed worms'neath jeering, leering tangled forms.Branches breaking, bending, sendingshivers down my mangled spine.Fine, everything's just fine.Backward glancing, I see dancingshadows, shadows that aren't mine.Time, time ever racing, chasing,pacing, my footsteps ever hastening;tasting the seconds as they fade away.Decay comes quickly, sickly;stenches, wrenches my groaning gut.Moaning, roaming through the leaves,weaves the yearning, burning thing of night.Sight, I am robbed of sight.Blinding, something hidden binding,twining, snaking round my aching useless eyes.Sighs, the sighs of something very close;those whispered, blistered wrecks of breath.Death, the final fleck, silently shivers,my withered slivered, writhing neck.
After The WarAfter blood is spiltMay pretty flowers growin their memory.
MusingI'm too young to spend my liferunning from the thunder,staring at the kitchen walls wonderinghow life would be differentif they weren't the same color.
a drug or choosingYour oily prints upon my eyesBlessed art thouYou bleed through the cracks in my wallsEyes, pores in every centimeter of wallpaperWatching me sleep, watching my night-mareThe horse running from the fire-like riverPouring down the mountain to the plains belowEngulfing my atmosphere in golden red smokeI am not addicted
Under The Murky WatersChildren of the first sinner,Dragging his filthy soul at his tail.He does not dare to look upWhere God's face resides.Walking the earth; a pack of wild dogsScavenging the last pride,Snatching what is left of mercy.Down creatures, leeches in the murky waters.Always on the move to a new pure land,Hunting down every butterfly wing,Slaughtering every young green bud.Children of the massacre, slaves of the cannonYou have your hands down my throat,Your knife sliding down my spine,You say: "Keep your smile and greet Humanity"I swallow the rocks; I wave for my brothersI fell, I died , they walked over me,Forever forgotten
how to pay the plumberthe sun is born of ink that leaks from dog-eared galaxiesand the night is made of copper eyes that pipe the constellationsbut we are too polite to stare.any hand that may brush my back must bleed the alphabetfrom wearied fingertips, and this is why:happiness is ice and crinkled bones all wrapped up warm in thechildless rings of saturnand your smiling face-of-a-cliff that scorches pretty spring skin dry.we will never say we will never love soi will die beside,you die below.
Blue Heart SkyThe sky is showing scars of whiteCutting through its heart of blueTurning grey they feign the nightRaining rain they cryIt stains my eyesI cryNo one seems to wonder whyThis rain tastes salt instead of sweetForms salty seas beneath my feetWho broke this blue heart sky
Soakeda rainbowspectrum ofsoft bruisesnestles inthe spacebetween herfingertipsand heartbeat.a silent reminder ofall the nightsshe spent inthe solitudeof yourcompany.
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.