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Taylor Tea Jan 2013
raucous bird
you explode in my chest
silver to hit the ones i hide
              in that iron case heart
they're the ones that hurt the most
             daunting fox, her courage escapes;
             swollen knight to suffer by self;
             fallen sun left only to destruction;
             holly saint with her selfish scepter;
but trapped there like stars
only left to implode & destroy
they would only ever be free
         wandering
                                 my
                                               mind.
late 2012.
Taylor Tea Jan 2013
That girl
that no one once saw
shivering
shaking
shy
hiding in her younger brother's clothes
trying
seeing that maybe maybe maybe
maybe they wouldn't notice her shallow
skeleton
like a key to a lock that would always break
she was that silly young musician to our ears
bleeding
like the cawing of birds
hungry
the way she would starve herself
nights & nights again
she wanted to die.
2012
Taylor Tea Feb 2013
You wriggled your way into my wrists
to direct the wind of my pen tip
across the lines of paper I call my home.

And I would watch you
with grey eyes sunk of light
while you would swallow my words
and draw your fingertips along my waist

in harmony we stood like this for long
until you pushed yourself aching from my grasp,
my pen a dagger in your side

and here we stand
miles apart
with our words like worlds between us

and I have never felt safer before.
Fresh works for 2013.
A fresh start.
Taylor Tea Jan 2013
sometimes I feel like drowning

she told him
fingers threaded through his

how come?

He lets his gaze fall to hers
ocean meeting river

she lets go of his fingers

because this life is just a short horror
story

he hesitates
she looks away
hands in pockets rather than
intertwined

you say that when you know
that's not true, my rabbit girl.


he turns her towards him
face to face, even when her silent
epiphanies have woken her tears

he kisses her
tears sweet as sadness

I love you more than the salty
ocean waves


a quick, lightning glance from
a weeping river

it's about time darling
we've got to let this go*

he hesitates
a startled lion once more

it's like when you said
that you could not grind your own
skull into the ocean
The prequel of sorts to my poem "sour sweet".
2012
Taylor Tea Jan 2013
Last night I dreamt
that you were an
angel
and I was a
ghost.

sometimes I
wish
you could understand
that tomorrow's sickness
doesn't have to do with
the cold
or the paintings on your
fingers

you think her paleness
constitutes some sort
of forgiveness
don't you?
That touching her lightly
simply being near,
does it fix you?
repair your mind, that
grey wolf heart of yours?

you trip as a constant
over footprints I left
tiny but never lost
never lost
Taylor Tea Jan 2013
there was once a girl
special & shining
whose world was it to bring back the Night
whose job it was to readily trick her.
neither knew the other well
enough to say 'i'll capture him'
and
'she will be mine'
her sin was to be another's: the Sun's.
so he took her and he held her close
promising the Night would never take
her back again
Taylor Tea Jan 2013
I wonder if it hurts you
to have her here
that volatile
glacier girl
complications rising
up
like your colours once they
washed out
on the crowd
that gross ichor
trailing after you
everywhere
you
go
2012
Taylor Tea Dec 2013
what i need, essentially, is to just transform into a very small creature
preferably with a tail
i would probably wrap this tail around myself when i get sad or lonely
like i am feeling now
i would do that
and feel cozy
maybe if i had a special power as that tiny animal it would be to disappear
so no one could see me
so i could just suffer by self
in small comfort
with my own company
2013
Taylor Tea Jan 2013
Scratches & scars you gave
me that lie beneath my skin
what you stole from me,
that young scared girl
of five, 8 years then I
let it go on, fighting between
sheets, drowning, muttering
about the shapes on the wall
to you
back aches & visits to the
hospitals in my head.
At eleven I was trapped,
while again and again it
happened
mummy at the store
mummy at work
mummy down the hall
cleaning the stove, the dishes
while you choked me with
the fear of family members
with eyes gouged out
to keep me yours.
At twelve I fought back,
told the woman scared shitless
of your skeleton while the people
in dusty suits & squeaky shoes stood
in empty rooms calling my mother
a liar.
At thirteen they decided to stuff
me in a room with you for over
an hour, twice, while women hungry
for my fear sat me in a soggy
blue chair seven feet from you,
they used big words that I had always known
to describe my symptoms
of 'a small, thirteen year old only
trying to please her mother'
while you crossed your legs, mannerisms
I adopted at eight fighting to break
through my facade, with hands folded
in your lap, and echoed the lies my
mama told me you had spat in court
to those hollow lawyers.
they all believed me a liar
and because I waited,
I could save no other.
My childhood.
2012
Taylor Tea Feb 2013
our nomads walk on in the dark
living on walls following trails along our psychosis
laughing, they do
while we trip on cracks in the sidewalk while they,
up above, scoff and point at us, catcalls bouncing off
pavement to ring in our ears [like
the bells of scolding teachers, we as children rapt with attention, those sharp
insulting shrills of old such as daggers to us]
they wear their coats as if they were stars hanging
overhead, shining blinding as reflections off
the asphalt where we drag our insecurities
and while they hold themselves to such an alarming degree as we,
the grave diggers down down down below, stumble over our mistakes
at least we have the decency to learn from falling in the gravel.
2013
Taylor Tea Jan 2013
Rabbit boy,
musician of silence
how did you decide
your curse was
her spell?
you'll forever remember
how you did it to
yourself

Wolf Boy,
like ribbons, loose
and faded
wrapped around those thick chains
of silver
hanging from your waist

Lion Boy,
you inverted saint of
summer
you know exactly what to
say
until I speak

Rabbit Girl,
she taught herself
to let those ***** words
and filthy paintings
know
that they can't **** a liar
that is already dead

Fox Girl,
your foolish deeds you
let become nightmares
and that boy you adored
left you so
we're always going to
leave you, tiny pup
Taylor Tea Jan 2013
kind of like a Bon Iver song

she guessed to him

you should be more careful with your words

he nods knowingly
she says things like this quite often to him

I know
but why should I care what happens to me?

she sinks to the floor
clutching that tiny black paper heart

alright

alright

he holds his own
in his hands lovingly

may I kiss you?

he tenderly runs a hand across her cheek

it makes me sad

what does, darling?

she lets her eyes linger on his
own pale ocean blue

seeing you cry
watching your tears fall

i'm not crying

he says defiantly

oh babe
your heart is
I adore writing & reading poetry in a dialogue style such as this.
2012
Taylor Tea Jan 2013
Hollow, seeking out loneliness
like a fish seeking water
in the ocean that is your eyes
those dead, finned creatures
floating along your irises,
I can feel you reaching for
something to touch
like smoke to my match, that
sad & hungry spider gnawing
at your mouth
frightened & working to
become free.
But what if I caught you
in my glass jar, my forgotten
Promise?
And housed you on the shelf
beside my porcelain skeleton,
my twitching fingertips,
my spellbound mouth?
2012
Taylor Tea Jan 2013
Water, now I'm drenched

The puzzle piece this
storm has become
both in my heart &
in my head

My room is flooded,
the fish no longer imprisoned
simply in their square glass
free to swim not only
in air but
in my lungs
it's tragic to see

and across the house
my mother is sobbing,
more tears, more water.
Soaked to the bone.
Soaked to the bone.
2012
Taylor Tea Jan 2013
do not grind your own soul into the ocean for her
-that self-effacing, shallow-studded hare-
with her teeth caught on ribbons
& her mouth stitched close with sparks & hurricanes
as constant escaping prisoners.
do not grind your own skull into the ocean for her,
i know your head must swim of hearts caught
on fish-hooks
& her ink drowning in your fingertips,
you can't let yourself hurt under her false silver knives.
with our sore tongues & sore thoughts
tumbling above us, becoming stars in our chests,
I'll
remember
you
always,

sour sweet boy.
To Ben.
circa 2011
Taylor Tea Jan 2013
And then everyone kisses
and the show is over
and you get up from your seats
you drive back to your home
get undressed
crawl into bed

because it was just a story
it was just a book
it was just a film

you know that
you know that
you know that

you know that it's your life
they are filming
are capturing with words
that steal away a piece you
probably never realized you had

and everyone kisses
and everyone drives home
and everyone wakes up

everyone but me
the character
2012
Featured in my end of the year project for Modern Literature.
Taylor Tea Jan 2013
The filmer's heart:
caught between thieves of
just & wisdom
wrapped in that haunted silk embrace,
with silver metal folded twice to form
that frozen ache of yours
so clear & perfect that you mask it
in glass cages draped in ash
& hidden in walls of lost lovers.
you think I let words of literature
cure my disbelief in you,
that because of lies you make
you'll view the Hare's Ghost,
capture her sorrow twice,
& weave it into the ugly society of your mind,
only to control & demean her.
& while your dementia sets in
those hollow blue eyes,
you'll only be graced with the shadow of what I've
become.
2012
Taylor Tea Jan 2013
i haven't seen him since i was four
dad took Vic and I to visit his ex wife and his son and some of our family
when i got a little older i thought it was a dream somehow
but i had two necklaces that his ex gave to me
tiny planets on a string
(i doubt Vic remembers that visit at all)
i wish i had kept the necklaces
i threw them out a year or so ago
tiny planets on a string and i threw my planets away
2011
Taylor Tea Jan 2013
i'm cut up like those
ribbons,
splintered
hollow.
there's this triangle
space
where my heart refuses
to be forced into
and
i keep building pyramids
that shiver beneath my
touch,
breaking & aching
lost & empty forests of
silence
caught in that place
where
i can't even
be
alone by
myself.
2012
Taylor Tea Jan 2013
That's the thing about tricking Gods,
they never learn.
Never realize.
It's one thing to bruise their ego
with obvious insult to design,
but to go and act, to lie,
right
to
their
face
and still not be caught,
well,
that makes you the God now.
2012
Taylor Tea Jan 2013
Wolf girl
her movement so strange
like she's drowning from
the voices in her head
a psychosis, senses streaking
like words flooded on the
page of her one of her books
thrumming, humming bodies
before her eyes that she
is caught like a disease
and the sedition of her
mind
like a forest in flames
echoes like the last time
she
held
his
hands
and
looked inside him
those worn pieces of concrete
& soot
plummet & plunge
leaving only the boy.
Only
the
boy
who refused to cry wolf
against her
2011
Taylor Tea Jan 2013
sometimes
while I sleep
I flee the world
from which i've grown
I know i'll crave
similarities in the
new place
[i'm a moth drawn to light I daresay]
I have the same keys
and the clocks all tick the same
my reflection stares back,
those slightly dazed pair
of clear grey,
blinking in return
before going up in smoke.
“world of mirror”
like becoming lost in tree branches
a forest of humans,
darting, scratching, fleeing,
tumbling between shoots & limbs
a fox, a lion, a wolf, a rabbit
[and they thought themselves the absolutely
terrifying ones]
2012

— The End —