she was the moon
radiating the night sky
and dancing among the stars
you were the darkness
the shadow that waxed and waned
through the phases of her life
she grew to believe
that your presence
is what made her whole
but like the full moon
she shone brightest
without you
x.
Sep 3, 2018
Sep 3, 2018 at 9:40 PM UTC
they told her
“your poetry
is hidden within”
so she took her pen
carved into her wrists
and watched the cherry red words
bleed out
x.
Sep 2, 2018
Sep 2, 2018 at 9:52 PM UTC
i was alone
within a crowded room
when it came for me
i could feel it lurking
amongst the deadened souls
and its amber eyes
disguised themselves as comfort
to pierce through my flesh
its hands looked like yours
but embraced my neck
and as they tightened their grasp
its talon fingers
reached towards my flooding eyes
and traced a path down my cheek
carving skin in the pattern of a waterfall
it fastened chains
around my chest
and invisible serpents
slithered their way into my lungs
their vile breath
stealing the air within them
and as my nails began to dig
to hide from the monster
buried beneath my skin
the indolent world around me
gave no second glance
for my screams were silent
x.
Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 6:26 PM UTC
she asked him
'why is it
that i have yet to know a poet
who doesn't hold a bottle
the same way he holds his pen'
he replied simply
'darling
a poet's hands are weary
so he must find some way
to ease the weight of his words'
x.
Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 12:43 AM UTC
darling
let us fill our lungs
with corruptive smoke
and descend into delirium
so we may appreciate the moments
when our breaths consist
of purely air
let us drown our stomachs with poison
so we may savor the potent mix
of acid and alcohol
searing our throats
and numbing our skin
let us sink our teeth
into the ripe flesh
of the forbidden fruit
and swallow the pit
while we´re at it
let us drink to forget
and kiss like careless strangers
as we bury ourselves under bodies
so we may feel something other
than the weight of the world
let us dance beneath a storm
not of rain
but of blood spilling out
of open wrists
with mouths gaping
and hearts shattered
let us relish these blurred eyes
and hazy memories
as our hands touch
but do not meet
let us hold each other too tight
skin bleeding into skin
nail marks freckling your back
i can no longer hear the music
so let us sing our beautiful lies
take my hand
and let us run through grayed streets
with reckless abandon
and as we go
we can pick the roses
allowing their thorns
to imprint new scars
between our fingertips
let us tear the feathers
from a white dove
so we may weave ourselves
wings to fly
to touch the sun
and steal icarus´ name
let us ignore our ambitions
and explore extremes together
let us shatter our expectations
and as two beings collide
let us breathe each other in
and indulge as if it were
our last moment on earth
darling
let us taste death together
x.
Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 2:53 AM UTC
to love a poet
is to know immortality
for your name
will never cease
to flow from her lips
and she will forever hold
her pen gently
for her hands are scarred
with remnants of you
Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 2:51 PM UTC
she whispers poetic metaphors
comprised of beautiful words
into thirsty ears
and watches as hungry eyes
become enveloped with stars
as they imagine the beauty
of her love
she tells them
¨he is the earth
and i am his moon
orbiting around him¨
orbiting for him
but
you see
an orbital´s path
is not paved by love
for she often asks herself
if she was really in love at all
or was it simply
his proximity
which so forcefully
pulled her in
for closeness
is what tore the moon
from her own established path
amongst the stars
when she encountered
the inescapable gravity
of another celestial body
the moon
diminutive and frail
in comparison
had no choice
but to succumb to the earth´s captivation
and redirect her path
to assume a new orbit
around a new focus
instead of progressing forward
she now knows nothing
but the same hideous loop
and like a scratched record
it repeats itself
over
and over
and over
and over
again
and every taste of freedom
simply brings her careening even quicker
around the next corner
until she becomes
all too familiar
with the same series of events
so she convinces herself
she's fallen in love
then that she's fallen
back out of it again
except
she hasn't really fallen anywhere
her mind simply adapts
a new narration
for the same spiral storyline
she never really loved him
for while they were close
momentum prevented their hearts
from ever truly touching
(for if the moon and the earth
drifted too close
they would collide)
and she will never know
now that she has become entranced
by a new planetary orbit
and as she tells the story
of how the moon
fell for the earth
the paradox of orbitals
was the perfect disguise
for her sinister love
x.
Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 6:16 PM UTC
my mouth is filled up with words
that my hands can't translate
...and i'm choking
x.
Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 12:55 AM UTC
how lonely must one be
for the warm embrace
of tears flooding your eyes
...to be considered comfort now
x.
Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 11:52 PM UTC
she had always said
her favorite color was yellow
for the girl with buttery skin and crystal eyes
it seemed rather fitting
yellow was the color of sunshine
and the color of her hair
after it had been bleached by summer
it was the color of the bumblebees
that drank from her favorite flowers
flowers that now
line her grave
she told you
her favorite color was yellow
because she knew you needed someone
radiant with light
to ease the depth
of your own darkness
so she said
when autumn arrived
you could watch the ground
become littered with yellow leaves
together
when you asked what color
lie beneath her skin
she told you it was yellow
she made herself believe
her body was freckled from stardust
and not from the amber glow
of cigarette burns
she still said
her favorite color was yellow
so she could continue being the light
in your colorless world
soon enough
your favorite color was yellow too
but not for the same reasons
she fell in love with it
you only saw yellow vaguely
in the form of teeth
stained from tobacco and too much coffee
smiling grimly through cracked lips
dripping poisoned honey
you guilded the word ¨love¨
with muted ochre lies
and now
she no longer feels the warmth
that once emanated
from her favorite color
she no longer tastes
the sweetness of butterscotch
and papaya on your lips
for you left her with nothing but
the sour residue of lemons and bile
as your gentle breath
extinguished her golden flames
and reduced her heart to ash
and now
she realizes that bumblebees
can also administer a piercing sting
and as she watches the sunset
with its amber hues
she no longer sees
the color yellow
x.
Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 12:14 AM UTC