The way you looked at me
That night we spent watching movies,
How you burnt yourself
And how you ran to me
For a quick kiss.
All these memories make me smile
Yet, make me so sad…
The way you’d say, “Hello gorgeous?”
When I’d call,
And the sound of you riding
Your bike home,
How your eyes lit up
When I showed you something new,
I crave these memories
And so many more,
But I still just want
To forget you.
I recall those cosmic brownies from my childhood
and the little kool-aid drinks we picked out from the 7-11
with coins from the belly of our couch cushions.
Watching Judge Judy in the afternoons
on grandma's squishy sofa
thinking that 'law' and 'court'
were words you used when your room-mate
didn't pay her rent on time
or when your boyfriend used your credit card
to take out the bimbo from down the street.
So we plucked the feet off the daddy-long-legs
and lit ants on fire
when the swimming pool was closed.
never sparked fear in our bodies
never bred anger or sadness in our hearts.
So we crawled through our tunnels past youth and adolescence
awoke to a world where
men and women
who slaughtered dozens of innocents like cattle
are being served breakfast by the men and women we trust
to keep us safe at night
while we sleep in our soft beds
than the devils who leave us in fear.
it is when i detach myself from reality
and turn myself into just a visitor of the human race
that the world truly begins to open up.
i start to notice the trivial, tiny things,
details in faces and on bodies
that escape me in the suffocated world
people pass by me,
and i take in their noses -
some have slender ski-slope curves,
some jut out, sharp like a beak,
some erupt in a bump in the middle.
i swim in their eyes -
as green as the grass between my toes,
as blue as a butterfly's thin wings,
as brown as the fudge brownies my mom makes,
even as gray as the storm clouds in the sky.
these people have elegant fingers
and heart-shaped lips
and rounded, shapely thighs
and freckled shoulders,
and they are all beautiful creatures.
it's a shame they cannot all the time
be properly worshipped.
Peanut butter banana cookies,
I love baking.
But my nose loves it more.
WHEN I WRITE ABOUT YOU
I WANT TO WRITE IN ALL CAPS
BECAUSE YOU ARE MOMENTOUS
AND WORTH SO MUCH MORE
THAN LOWERCASE LETTERS.
YOU ARE THE SUN BEAMING AT NOON
NOT LIGHTLY ON THE FACE
OF DAFFODILS AND CHERRY TREES
BUT SCREAMING THROUGH WINDOW BLINDS
OF TEENS TOO BEATEN DOWN
TO CLIMB OUT OF BED.
YOU ARE FUZZY CHRISTMAS SOCKS
AND HEAVY QUILT BLANKETS
NOT BECAUSE OF YOUR WARMTH AND SINCERITY
BUT BECAUSE OF THE WAY
YOU ENGULF EVERYTHING YOU TOUCH
AND MAKE THEM A PART OF
A SEA OF COMFORT AND REMEMBRANCE.
YOU ARE 3 AM EPIPHANIES
YOU ARE THE END OF A STORY MADE OF PROMISES AND BUMPY PLOT LINES
YOU ARE A BOUNCE CASTLE AT A KID'S BIRTHDAY PARTY.
YOU ARE CREAM CHEESE BROWNIES,
STARS SPRINKLED IN THE SKY,
THE FINGERTIPS OF A KINDERGARTNER IN THE WINTER
TOO STUBBORN TO WEAR GLOVES.
YOU ARE EVERYTHING IN THE WORLD
ANYONE COULD HAVE ASKED YOU TO BE
BUT YOU ARE MOST DEFINITELY NOT
My sky is red and pink
and my clouds purple
my sun is a scarlet
and my breezes are filled with sparkles
i guess you can say my world is magical
cause the waters are filled sirens and hippicampi
my lands filled with centaurs and brownies
and the air has pegases and griffins
my world is dangerous but beautiful to live in
crystal waters that beckon u to dive in
Glowy forests that hugs you tightly in
and silvery winds with sparkles that taste sweet
my world beckons you in,accept it as a treat
i am 51% brownies trying to be soft and warm for you
please let me make sense to you, make sense to you, make sense to, make sense, make
could you keep a small and wrinkled corner of lines in your wallet
"i want to kiss you before you've brushed your teeth in the morning"
at the beginning of
summer before the
sun came out, your
mom made us brownies
in a mug and we sat on
the couch downstairs and
watched Red. I'm not sure
you'll ever know how
comfortable I was
with you and how
with you I was more
of myself than I even
am alone sometimes.
I will write about other people now.
I told the empty pan of brownies and the wrinkled sheets and the messy hair I don't love you
It's not a lie
Love is what splits married couples and buries dying animals.
My love is too selfish to even be love
Thoughts like mine fit better on the train track of hate
Because I want to hate you for being so persuasive to my emotions
Why can't I convince them to change?
In a hologram
I am the man you would like me to be
but you see
it is me,
why do you want to know
who that I am?
but the man that's an image
a man you would pillage
and keep for your own.
Pictures that grow up and slow up,then show up just who that you are
an image that's far too inconstant
a side by the sea
aside from you and me and the oceans that we see
there is only a halogen lamp which tramps out these scenes and in the inbetweens of our dreams
I will be forever
the screens on the doors of the more that you want, and the more that we need,
the more we will seed the cameras with film.
and developed could it be
that we see so much more?