she ties her tongue in a thick knot so he can’t suck on it.
she bites the inside of her cheek until she tastes rust, until he finishes and collapses in a post-coital nap.
she is forced to rise after her body’s beating, juggle his child, do the dishes, start boiling the water, prepare his dinner, crack open a beer, unscrew the anti-freeze and pour just enough all with one hand and all before he wakes.
he tells her to sweep the floor but the dust pads her footsteps so she doesn’t wake him and she’s happiest when he’s asleep.
he’s happiest when he has something to complain about, something to force himself into, some cavity to cram in the name of pleasure.
women are wild horses grazing in forgotten fields, unrequited and unchained beauty admired only by the sun.
women are the lone wolves, leading from behind.
women are the taste of freedom sucked out by a man with hands around her neck and hot breath in her ear asking if she likes it, asking if she wants it harder.
women are the smell of iron and sticky fingerprints, painting red-black odes into cotton canvases, where society can’t stipple or staunch the flow of freedom.
women are mothers before birth to unruly grab-me-a-beer-babe men tossing dirty clothes to a fresh mopped floor and telling her the place is a pit.
women are anger buried beneath flesh, a bubbling riot up and out of their mouths in the form of what they call crazy and what we call just plain tired.
she hands him his beer, smiles as she adjusts the baby.
here, she says, you deserved it.
she tastes those words, the way they weigh heavily on her tongue like stones tossed into a lake to drown.
she tastes those words, the same words he said to her the first time he painted her eye a pretty bruise-blue, pulled her hair like reigns like he actually believed he could control how she built herself.
I wanted to watch you stand atop a mountain gazing into the distance,
I wanted to hold you beside a burning fire,
I wanted to kiss you on the beach
and make love under the stars,
But now I cant,
and all I have left are these empty dreams I wanted to share with you,
and all these things we wanted to do
with no one else but just us two,
dreams of us sharing a tent,
a few years down the road after time has went,
a fire crackles and the crickets sing,
in your eyes the fire is glistening
is as it should be,
away from the world just you and me,
it could have been a memory,
but now it’s just a fantasy,
nowhere near a dream.
nowhere near reality,
I guess love ain’t what it seems
What if I were to take my life?
To silence the cry of a heart cleft asunder
And put to an end nights of aimless wander
In search of solace I never attain.
If I were to take my life, it’ll be beneath the stormy rain
On the gloomiest evening.
The stars will be shrouded by dark clouds
And the ground quaking from the rumbling of thunder
As the relentless gust of wind whooshing by dangles the sturdy, tall trees
And fluttering its withered leaves.
An evening were every soul pusillanimously sought refuge under their roof
Frequently peeping through their curtain with a bulging eyeball
Because they feared to venture the cold, vacant street.
If I were to take my life, have I succumbed to deceit?
To the whisper of Lucifer that incessantly tells me “this is my solace”.
Indeed, I want to rest
But how restful will be my death?
What if I were to take my life?
And I’m laid in my coffin like an etherized patient by unfamiliar hands
My mother’s tears falling upon my lifeless body
And in the bosom of my brethren will be an overwhelming urge to cry but fury will not let them.
What awaits me after?
An abyss for taking a life I cannot create?
Peace? Because God is willing to empathize for I have been punished enough in the earth he has kept me in.
My loneliness is all that I have ever known
And amidst all I called friends I felt alone
Amidst all my anguish my eyes never brought forth a tear
But I hoped to cry, because my brain couldn't bare.
What if I were to take my life?
Do new crushes always feel like they'll last forever?
I have a crush that's fresh and young
and let go I fear I'll never.
I have a crush that's very old
and it seems to die
but when they flash that smile of gold
my heart begins to fly.
I have a crush I must let go
before my heart it breaks,
if it lasts I fear my tears
will turn puddles into lakes.
Our love is dying slow
I'm going back hell, going back home...
Can you swallow my bitter pill with me?
Else, I cannot do it
I'll be good to you, I promise
But stay with me...
I love you despite myself
I cannot sustain a relationship well
The queen of broken hearts
Won't someone please tell me what's wrong
My mind has broken again
My mind always gets her way
Poetry and love
they do not lie so far
I tried to secure you with tacks and nails
But will we slip, sleep away?
But I do love your face
in my own sickly way
It's all I can do
offer you my own crumbs
it's starting to make me ill.
It’s march 24, 2016 and i’m still so in love with you. Today, you told me that you were happy i broke up with you. That was when the house that was the thought of your arms around me crumbled and no longer felt like a home. It was a lie it was a lie it was a lie, those words repeat in my head and my eyes still leak when i think of what we could’ve been. What we could’ve done. Who we could’ve been if i didn’t assume. Whatever we were, are, and will be.. I hope one day i can look at you and not feel like i need to take you into my arms and hold you tightly, so i don’t have to feel aching. So i can finally numb to you like i do with any other stranger. Because that’s what we are now. Soulmates who turned into strangers.
You lie on this bed with no sheets, only ghosts
you touch your lips in movement,
you deliver words of an author unashamed of his own limitations.
You seek to erase what has been:
out of context – unimportant,
inside this body -- crucial.
Without hesitation, you let your words slip
and your crimes spill
and you still haven't left this bed.
The third re-enactment is a joke;
the lines you rehearse haven’t been yours in so long.
Something made me think of you
while on a late-night train
I suppressed a smile while by myself
I shouldn't think about you again
As we rattled into our first stop
I thought of our first kiss
the carriage was warm but lonely
like you, on the Dublin to Galway express
We trundled on to station two
you crowded my head once more
I reminisced on our second summer then
when you used come to my door
By the time we arrived at station three
my thoughts were bitter and shrill -
you'd taken my heart, I'd forgotten that part
and leaned in for the kill
Before my stop, the train broke down
and grinded to a halt,
giving me time to reflect on what I used call 'perfect'
things that are now, undoubtedly, faults
Once the train started up, my mind was clear
as a summer Sunday sky. I alighted the train,
as it moved on in the night,
that so had I.