Lovers"Do you have a boyfriend?"Her eyes crawled from corner to corner as she mouthed the question. Do I have a boyfriend? After what felt like an unnecessary contemplation she said "...I know a lover, but I don't have him.""What does that mean?""I don't know if he's mine. He doesn't go by Mine ... that is to say, many could call out Lover! and he would answer. I could call out Mine! and receive no reply.""So this guy, whose not your boyfriend, doesn't it bother you that he doesn't feel the same way about you as you feel about him?"Her head lobbed to one side, as if it were weighted, her eyes found another corner, higher this time, right above my head. She may have been smiling, I didn't think so at the time but now as I reflect upon it, I believe she was. "I've known many lovers" She said "Many of them are strangers now. Strange thing, to know someone intimately, the crevasses of their body, their dark thoughts, and then in a blink, they are
Concernedly UnfleetingShe woke up as the sun did. Slowly creeping out of bed, eyes still half shut, her figure a small silhouette, fumbling about the bedroom. And then suddenly, I swear, I merely blinked, and the whole room was glowing with her presence. Her warm smile reflected the warm cup she placed in my hands and we just sat smiling to one another, to our selves, witnessing the blues of the day come into focus.You see, the sun was on the verge of rising. Too cold outside for the stunning rays she was known for. Today would not be a day for warmth, as our little morning cocoon would have you believe. No, today was a day for clarity, at it's best.Everything sparkled. The snow covered cars, the ice covered trees, her dark brown eyes. It felt magical, yet at the same time, untouchable. Frighteningly magical. The world outside my window looked Disney inspired, friendly, unreal, and frozen. Literally and figuratively, a beautiful winter still. How in the world is this moment, this time and place, st
This is the Door I Left Open For YouYou knocked and knocked. When I called outfor you to come in, the knocking stopped.I peered out the window and you were gone.I hesitantly moved on.I got up and closed the door, realizing it wasa ding dong ditch. From time to timeyou still knock, but the door stayslocked.
BalloonBalloons were created to floaton a leash. To be releasedis relieving solely to thefreed.
Sleep ChildSleep child. The day is done.A sweeter song is being sungthan the morning's rooster call.Sleep child, this day is done.Rest easy. Time will stopbefore a new day has begun.Sleep child. Sleep quick,before dark steals your thoughts.The night creeps on bywhile you're wide eyed.
Learn to SwimThey lined up and dove in. Every one of them sunk like rocks.Their eyes were red when they came up. They cried, I think, it was a pool of tears.Choking. Breathing. Laughing.She laughed a knowing laugh."If you stay in the shallow end you'll never learn to swim."I don't live by the ocean and I don't enjoy the sea,so what does your wisdom have to do with me?I waited by the door but you already left, so I wadedin the water and took a deep breath. I unstrappedthe vest that protects my chest. I shut my eyes and pluggedmy nose and pretended I was a balloon. Gravity wasn't pretendingand reality pulled me under. Flailing to floatand failing, my heart deflated. I gulped downwater not fit for drinking. Soon the sinking stopped.My toes reached cool tileand I thought thatthis must behow it feelsto walk on the moon.Moments felt like minutes,pushing toward the surface,bouncing back to Earth.
DriverI spend my evenings predicting the future.I will lay awake, with my eyes closed in the dark,considering hypothetical scenarios of what it mightbe like if that happens. Predicting how it will beeven though it is never is what you'd think, unlessthat is what you make it. You create it. I are not a passive passenger riding in the flowany relationship. I am the driver. I figure outwhat I want, and make it happen with that person.I choose to laugh.
O.R.B. He opened the front door and it didn't creak the way he'd expected it to. The house didn't know his father was dead. It was still fresh smelling, alive with plants and natural light. The curtains in the living room blew around, excited by his arrival. Ted had to push against the wind to shut the door. The house was quiet, anticipating his next move. He had to remind himself to stay on task. Do not pout around, don't touch everything. Find the papers and do what they say. In and out. It had been years since Ted set foot inside his parent's house. He forgot how Home and Garden's everything looked. Rather than being in his childhood home, Ted imagined he'd stumbled onto a made for TV movie set. Any minute a man would yell CUT and the walls would come down. Ted waited, and nothing happened. Every room was picture perfect out of a magazine. All shades of green and brown. The dishes and table sett
Lovers SpinningI faced him with nervous anticipation as our arms intertwined. His large hands easily clasped around my wrists. I too, held on to him. We began to spin, slowly at first. Everyone around us flashed looks of agitation, but I knew it was envy. He smiled and took pride in the fact that I was playing along. His feet sped up so I tried to keep up. We both laughed as our world disappeared into a kaleidoscope of color. Our shoes dug holes into the ground. I didn't want to slip, because I knew he wouldn't let me go and we'd both go tumbling down.We'll either decelerate or fall into the grass together. That is how it will end. It will be soft and will not hurt. Afterwords, we will wipe joy tears from our eyes. So I hoped.As our speed increased, so did doubt. I was sure we were spiraling out of control. My mind flashed forward, anticipating the release. Any moment now his hands will escape mine. I will fly away from him. My vision will be hazy without his face to focus on. I will be lightheaded
You're not a failure for failingHer small, anxious handsgrabbed the cup, a bit too largeas it slipped down and tumbled to the ground,the milky mess covering the carpet:her mother let out a disapproving sighand rolled her eyes,“Will you ever do anything right?”and that’s when she beganto limit her aspirations,so that her dreams would never be too large,so she’d never make any mistakesshe’d never again drop the cup,but she’d never have enough to drink.
fa(r)ceface me, faux pas princess;meet my eyes,take a deep breath.let's begin.where do i go in the wakeof your empty empathy embersburning through the wallsi built to hold me safe -this honesty blisters blatant,and i wonder how perceptionhas managed to fail youin such a spectacular way.face me, flighty fighter;hold my gaze,hold my gaze,only cowards look away.this is a warning,or a goodbye.if you play at salvation for long enough,maybe someday you'll be ableto save yourself.this is a machination that whirs whirlpool predictabilityand you imagine that youknow me, daydreamer -let's revise,let's rewrite;i am so much morethan definitions.face me, flickerswitch;maybe i would love you moreif the lights were out.(maybe i could love you longerif you kept your mouthclosed.)and sometimes i believethat you can only love mewhen i'm playingthe victim,because you're so busyin your role of saviourthat
that's no earthquake, it's just my trembling lipsI ama battlefieldon a fault line-desire on my tongueand indecisionstuck between my teeth-what words will my breath carrywhen the land bucklesand parts?
Two sidesA dark lifeFull of secretsHiddenBehind closed doorsA cheerful smileEmpty and fakeA maskSo others won't worry
The Jake I Chose to RememberI want to humanize you,Jake,but you werenever very goodat letting people seethe humanpast the poet.You were too busysetting your legs on fire,and boy,masturbation works for a while,but thenthe realization that you’re inthe same sheetsfrom yesterdaybackhands you.And you know, Jake,they’re legalizing marijuana now.Turns out it’s notso illegal,just the peoplewho did it were.It’s funny,or maybe it’s accurate;you did always teach me to gofor the better word.It’s accurate thatmy first and only tattooI ever wanted will have beenwritten by me, revised by youbecauseI am not what I've worn;I am who I have worn down.
crumblingscrowded house,crowded mind;you are a neglectedinfrastructure.there's a road ahead,and it's a broken-down disaster.your steps unsteady,you are opening your eyes.you are coming outof the dark.this isn't what you wanted,but it's time to revise.deterioration,decimation;you are an overrunanarchy.there's a world in you,it's not what you wanted.this isn't what you planned,but it can still bebeautiful.(re)take the city(re)claim the land(re)build.
whispers are a certaintyher utterance swervesin the vanguard of tumultbefore it is moltenand molded into a river of clay,then sculptedinto a bust.(and it neverpanned out the wayshe wanted it to.)this vacillationis an effigyof grandiose statu(r)esand her locution stands tallwhen the barricadesare torn down.it only recoilswhen defensesare dam(m/n)ingbecause weightis not meant to floatin the gravitas of gravity.
morningtidethis dawn i squinted intoand pushed upfrom chested seafloor.stood atop my anchorsand let heal my arch wounds.i am the sea and all thingsradiant.no mirror can contain meand no mind the same.look, my limbs havewandered this dry earth andsought out the weary dustand made lakes.i am the quench of all thingsdesperate.these days i pick myself upand plant broad fernsin my feet's absence.all of the earth blooms darlingbeneath me and through me.i am the wellspring of beautyexigent.
Tears and AshesYou don't need to lie,to make yourself interesting;Or gain some brand of..empathy..Sympathy created this way,is often devastating;Even if pain is commonly..relatable..Your character won't elevate;It'll only deplete..Unraveling faster,than every falsity,that waltzed you into..your next disaster..The lies become,the only consistent..factor..As you throw yourself,into the flames,you lose all the parts that..matter..And when the smoke clearsthe wreckage will be..irreparable..For everything you hoped,to embrace;Will be laid to waste..As everything you lovedabout your coveted lie has been..erased..You sit alone again;Tears and ashes,all you've claimed.
InkI like to draw hearts on my wrist in ink.Let it wash away and draw them again.Not always in the same placesor the same amount.Sometimes my heart's in different places,but I always have one.