JackOfAllTrades - Hello Poetry

I came in through the front door You left the rings on the counter Delicately one on top of the other The boxes neatly organized, A note on the chalkboard “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more” Your blood still staining the floor I didn’t breathe for a week My body did not know how to eat or sleep Felt you pressed against me In the muscle memory Laid in the tub Wrapped my clothes around me Try to absorb the warmth in anyway it found me I put the ring back on I erased the note Listened to our song I unpacked the boxes Scrubbed the stain from the floor This place wasn’t home anymore.

0

Nov 10, 2019

Nov 10, 2019 at 2:13 PM UTC

I still can’t write about it.

I came in through the front door You left the rings on the counter Delicately one on top of the other The boxes neatly organized, A note on the chalkboard “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more” Your blood still staining the floor I didn’t breathe for a week My body did not know how to eat or sleep Felt you pressed against me In the muscle memory Laid in the tub Wrapped my clothes around me Try to absorb the warmth in anyway it found me I put the ring back on I erased the note Listened to our song I unpacked the boxes Scrubbed the stain from the floor This place wasn’t home anymore.

20

Does it haunt you The way it haunts me Standing on the shoreline Two am it’s freezing Salt in my lungs You cannot see me Held on too long Watched the tide go out We did it all wrong I pushed you inside me I watched the fire spark At the hint of lightning Brushed the hair from your eyes In a mania that was almost frightening I didn’t know how to trick my pulse Slow it down or look away All I really knew was I wanted you to stay.

0

Nov 10, 2019

Nov 10, 2019 at 2:05 PM UTC

Cape George

Does it haunt you The way it haunts me Standing on the shoreline Two am it’s freezing Salt in my lungs You cannot see me Held on too long Watched the tide go out We did it all wrong I pushed you inside me I watched the fire spark At the hint of lightning Brushed the hair from your eyes In a mania that was almost frightening I didn’t know how to trick my pulse Slow it down or look away All I really knew was I wanted you to stay.

17

Do you remember that day? We laughed at mortality Danced wine hungry Eager for another story. You said I was not old enough to feel the weight I did, as I circled loops around you. How could I know the ache? You asked over and over again. As if the the deed of grief was written in your palm, no man could touch where you had been. I smiled and told you that you were too old to be treating poison like pop rocks, Popping each pill in your mouth and forgetting to swallow. Had we laughed that night at the idea that I’d outlive you? Or is that just the way I remembered it when I watched them bury you?

0

Aug 24, 2019

Aug 24, 2019 at 5:33 PM UTC

Remember?

Do you remember that day? We laughed at mortality Danced wine hungry Eager for another story. You said I was not old enough to feel the weight I did, as I circled loops around you. How could I know the ache? You asked over and over again. As if the the deed of grief was written in your palm, no man could touch where you had been. I smiled and told you that you were too old to be treating poison like pop rocks, Popping each pill in your mouth and forgetting to swallow. Had we laughed that night at the idea that I’d outlive you? Or is that just the way I remembered it when I watched them bury you?

10

It shatters Cracks Rips the sky in half I roll the windows down Plunge into the downpour Fill to my lap Freshwater cascades Consumes Small droplets trickle my forearm Delicate bumps rise Can you see this It’s projecting the same Atmospheric pressure Foreshadowing My breaking Until my knees start to shake You’re dying You’re dying And all you can do Is watch the sky Pretending it’s falling

0

Jun 27, 2019

Jun 27, 2019 at 7:01 PM UTC

Lightning

It shatters Cracks Rips the sky in half I roll the windows down Plunge into the downpour Fill to my lap Freshwater cascades Consumes Small droplets trickle my forearm Delicate bumps rise Can you see this It’s projecting the same Atmospheric pressure Foreshadowing My breaking Until my knees start to shake You’re dying You’re dying And all you can do Is watch the sky Pretending it’s falling

22

Ripening steady in their brutality insecurities dripping down my thighs I anoint the liquid as it touches the floor the vastness that was once coddled between our fingers now descends quicker an illusion of control security close knit purity does it matter cuts deepening in their impatience while the yellow light tricks your eyes yet,still nothing no rushing warmth pouring from inside me

0

Jun 23, 2019

Jun 23, 2019 at 2:06 PM UTC

SelfControl

Ripening steady in their brutality insecurities dripping down my thighs I anoint the liquid as it touches the floor the vastness that was once coddled between our fingers now descends quicker an illusion of control security close knit purity does it matter cuts deepening in their impatience while the yellow light tricks your eyes yet,still nothing no rushing warmth pouring from inside me

17

You make promiscuous promises to your aching body tell her she’ll feast next week if she lets you live to see the sea you promise her ripe ******* sticky fruit the dripping moments of honey you tell her to ignore the tricks of his fingers how they pull away the tenders parts of her you remind her she's as soft as the madrona tree that she’s the most pungent smell of rosemary the strength it takes for her to live shifts the alignments of the planets causes disarray in each star sign as she dips her toes stretches her bones he simply orbits you remind her she holds the resilience of each breathing forest and though he makes his offerings while looking for something sweeter she is monumental in the way the world needs her.

0

Nov 28, 2018

Nov 28, 2018 at 10:51 PM UTC

Madrona

You make promiscuous promises to your aching body tell her she’ll feast next week if she lets you live to see the sea you promise her ripe ******* sticky fruit the dripping moments of honey you tell her to ignore the tricks of his fingers how they pull away the tenders parts of her you remind her she's as soft as the madrona tree that she’s the most pungent smell of rosemary the strength it takes for her to live shifts the alignments of the planets causes disarray in each star sign as she dips her toes stretches her bones he simply orbits you remind her she holds the resilience of each breathing forest and though he makes his offerings while looking for something sweeter she is monumental in the way the world needs her.

24

I approached my ***** The tender charisma of something unholy haunted Carved with my fingertips the sacred verses While my temple anointed fresh basins Preparations waining an exorcism Chanted through pulsing Pressure to release haunts Hours of screams Days of lusting For the body that no longer begs Wants Where I birthed an age Without your dark haze embedded in the sides of my rib cage Allowed new lovers to taste The fresh fruit I no longer hollowed out Begs of you

0

Oct 10, 2018

Oct 10, 2018 at 10:36 PM UTC

Mango

I approached my ***** The tender charisma of something unholy haunted Carved with my fingertips the sacred verses While my temple anointed fresh basins Preparations waining an exorcism Chanted through pulsing Pressure to release haunts Hours of screams Days of lusting For the body that no longer begs Wants Where I birthed an age Without your dark haze embedded in the sides of my rib cage Allowed new lovers to taste The fresh fruit I no longer hollowed out Begs of you

19

It’s uproariously flashy The effervescent decadence of a slip Small molecular prism Juniper berries Sticking from the cream of freshly fallen snow Yet I am gliding Through the flattened streets trains roar in the distance Nostalgic melodies Tickle the masses between ears As the sun dips Digs it’s way to the eastern hemisphere I wait stuck Fond by memories Yet to exist on this realm Continuously moving Twitching the trauma away Until I can exist in a formation Other than decay Under the drunken evergreens With his eyes amongst the hues Of dripping blue

0

Sep 25, 2018

Sep 25, 2018 at 12:12 AM UTC

Juniper

It’s uproariously flashy The effervescent decadence of a slip Small molecular prism Juniper berries Sticking from the cream of freshly fallen snow Yet I am gliding Through the flattened streets trains roar in the distance Nostalgic melodies Tickle the masses between ears As the sun dips Digs it’s way to the eastern hemisphere I wait stuck Fond by memories Yet to exist on this realm Continuously moving Twitching the trauma away Until I can exist in a formation Other than decay Under the drunken evergreens With his eyes amongst the hues Of dripping blue

23

The small Island tucked away inside the damp inlet feels approachable by foot. If I trick my eyes to blur out the sheer drop off of roaring sea foam swirling, looping between my toes at the shoreline and back to the beginning of the jagged rocks that sink beneath each curving wave as it encompasses the land from the opening of the mossy walls. He sits in smoke on dry sand as many yards attainable to watch me with a distracted dissonance while the forest fires musk chases us from the overbearingly dry valley to the shores of the pacific ocean. I trick my knees into feeling the sinking sensation of dipping farther into the water, sweat pooling below the tattoo on the back of my neck. the dream approaches me, as if the plain site of reality was still my swelling subconscious, diving deeper, salt water devouring premonitions of final moments before I pull my head back out of the water and claw my way up the islands barnacle covered rocks. Would my sore body hold to the frigid temperatures long enough? He’d notice, in his nonchalant demeanor, slowly saunter to the shore and scold me for my idiocy, assuming I’d swim back to him eventually. In this dream I’d stay, hold my stubborn stance, gather materials for the long night and bunker below the islands only tree, starting my fire I’d turn my back to him until he eventually left. I’d let the sea cure me.

0

Sep 17, 2018

Sep 17, 2018 at 5:18 PM UTC

it's not a poem.

The small Island tucked away inside the damp inlet feels approachable by foot. If I trick my eyes to blur out the sheer drop off of roaring sea foam swirling, looping between my toes at the shoreline and back to the beginning of the jagged rocks that sink beneath each curving wave as it encompasses the land from the opening of the mossy walls. He sits in smoke on dry sand as many yards attainable to watch me with a distracted dissonance while the forest fires musk chases us from the overbearingly dry valley to the shores of the pacific ocean. I trick my knees into feeling the sinking sensation of dipping farther into the water, sweat pooling below the tattoo on the back of my neck. the dream approaches me, as if the plain site of reality was still my swelling subconscious, diving deeper, salt water devouring premonitions of final moments before I pull my head back out of the water and claw my way up the islands barnacle covered rocks. Would my sore body hold to the frigid temperatures long enough? He’d notice, in his nonchalant demeanor, slowly saunter to the shore and scold me for my idiocy, assuming I’d swim back to him eventually. In this dream I’d stay, hold my stubborn stance, gather materials for the long night and bunker below the islands only tree, starting my fire I’d turn my back to him until he eventually left. I’d let the sea cure me.

2

its the over powering aroma of similar scenes displayed in a parallel pattern while you lay horizontal to the projections of life as they distill through the decades I’ve lived this same night, years prior, I’ll live this night again in the future I want the wine to bite my lower lip I would like to place my hand on every single lap in this bar I cannot seem to find the weight in how extravagant just being in the woods alone felt I lapse, the inhale of each trigger while it greets me, seduces me to another rapid heart rate You’d say my depression comes in phases, that each mental breakdown holds similar to the last, not entirely wrong, but I’d interject and remind you, they're all unique in the way you cut through me consuming I yield, heavier than the last tomorrow as insignificant as the past.

0

Aug 24, 2018

Aug 24, 2018 at 6:32 PM UTC

Some people

its the over powering aroma of similar scenes displayed in a parallel pattern while you lay horizontal to the projections of life as they distill through the decades I’ve lived this same night, years prior, I’ll live this night again in the future I want the wine to bite my lower lip I would like to place my hand on every single lap in this bar I cannot seem to find the weight in how extravagant just being in the woods alone felt I lapse, the inhale of each trigger while it greets me, seduces me to another rapid heart rate You’d say my depression comes in phases, that each mental breakdown holds similar to the last, not entirely wrong, but I’d interject and remind you, they're all unique in the way you cut through me consuming I yield, heavier than the last tomorrow as insignificant as the past.

18