I found the lonely and built a cabin there.
Learned to live in it.
Decided I was better off with a roof over my head,
Even if some bad thoughts leak in when it rains.
Mar 22, 2017
Mar 22, 2017 at 12:45 AM UTC
My poems are not a safe place to be.
But despite the danger, you seem to linger here.
The rafters hang with stripped electrical cables
but this building has never been up to code.
I hope you have your helmet, dear -
for everything is falling down.
Look how the light shines through broken window -
you could almost mistake it for beauty.
You offer me a bucket of wet paint,
but there are no longer walls to wash.
They've all crumbled now.
The frames are all that's left.
They look like skeleton, you see.
Like prison bars or Greek columns.
Am I dungeon or am I Panthéon?
Tell the truth this time, my love.
No matter, I suppose.
We will fade to nothing soon -
You, my poems, and I.
Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 9:53 AM UTC
Like everything I love the most,
I too, wither among the frost.
It bites at my skin
flows cold through my veins
like hospital iv
They call it seasonal
They call it affective
They call it disorder.
I call it "aching for the warm."
I have always hated to see my breath linger in the chill
as if to see my own exhale
is to see my living
is to see my eventual end.
Too many things die when the snow falls
I pray that I will not be one of them.
Jan 12, 2016
Jan 12, 2016 at 3:48 AM UTC
Pretty Boy calls my body “Hourglass”
Funny, I’m not the one wasting my time.
(He got some things right, though. My body is not soft. My body is not fruit. My body is hard. My body takes its time.)
Pretty Boy wants a grain of sand; doesn’t care that he has to break the whole thing to get it.
While he’s at it, Pretty Boy takes more than he originally intended. Takes more than he was offered.
He Takes
and takes
and takes
and doesn’t give a ****
He broke that too.
Now I’m all washed up in this lake of glass.
Well, it’s a good thing he likes long walks on the beach.
Or ***** as he calls it
“it,” of course, being me.
Pretty Boy knows exactly what not to say
to get me to sleep with him
Pretty Boy is confused
wants to know why I 'do not like' him.
Now I could tell Pretty Boy:
A. that I like girls
B. that I’m seeing someone
C. that I’m just not interested.
D. that I —-
But this is not multiple choice.
This is extended response.
One where I repeat the same thing
over
and over
and over
to all the Pretty Boys.
Dec 24, 2015
Dec 24, 2015 at 3:29 AM UTC
He tells me that I will make one hell of a poem
One hell of a story
And he says it like a threat
Like this is the first time I will consider the literary value of my being
But he is sadly mistaken
Because he will never write as many love poems about me as I have written to myself
The summer I stopped reading his letters
I wrote myself a poem for every day that I was stronger without him
I wrote the vows for the holy matrimony of my two good thighs
I wrote the preface for every novel I may someday compose
I wrote love songs to the children I will never bear.
My poetry has known every part of me in ways he never could.
Dec 24, 2015
Dec 24, 2015 at 3:22 AM UTC
You are a strike anywhere match.
But you have always burnt out much too fast -
Disappeared before I even had the chance to hold your glow.
You, with your beautiful flicker
out and in and in and out
of my life
You dear, sweet nothing.
Whispered passing in my bad ear
I could never quite make out your meaning.
You - filled to the brim with sulfur
with wood splinter
with flame -
You never answered my question.
Were you meant to burn out?
Or else ignite?
Dec 22, 2015
Dec 22, 2015 at 11:55 AM UTC
.
1. Love fully and without fear. Love is the most powerful verb you can teach to someone else.
2. Do not be passive. No one will give you a badge for standing down or sitting still.
3. Tea and Yoga are not for the faint of heart. People who can remain calm enough in times of peril to make a nice *** of Earl Grey are more powerful than you can even imagine. Yoga can and will kick your ***
4. You do not have to be religious or even believe in God to appreciate the value of the Bible, or prayer.
5. There is no such thing as false hope. Your hopes and dreams and goals and deepest desires are all valid. No one can tell you otherwise unless you let them.
6. The only person who can truly love you entirely for who you are is yourself, so you had better do a good job of it.
7. If the letters you write always sound like apologies, do not send them. Take pictures and send those instead.
8. Do not let yourself be reduced to a set of numbers. You are so much more than careless red ink.
9. Abandonment is never beautiful. The only beauty is in the peace you may take from it.
10. Live fully and without fear.
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 6:18 PM UTC
So…Sex.
I don't have it. People never seem entirely surprised by this, I don't know.
Maybe my tell is my general blushy-ness around any and all cute humans, or maybe it's the way I yelp when they hug me too hard…
But it's not for lack of trying.
You see,
I am an extremely intimate person until my skin gets involved.
Then I'm all turtles' shells and touch-me-nots, shrink away, shrink away, hide, be small, be tame, be timid.
Or else like a wild animal - claws sharp, bite back, all fight and flight and defense.
I don't have *** - *** has me. Caught by the throat, a deer in headlights, no way to get away, stuck.
Stuck in his basement, seven years old.
The magician next door tricked me and changed my meaning of the word magic forever.
Never again would I put my faith in illusions.
But now, there's this girl, and she is so beautiful -
When I look at her, I can't see straight.
But she is no illusion.
She tells me she wants to help me carry my baggage,
But I don't want to tell her my baggage is a body bag
And it's me inside-
Choking for air,
And I wish it was because she takes my breath away, but it's not.
But sometimes, she does take my breath away.
And when she does, I want to tell her
Everything.
I want to tell her that if she holds me
Close enough,
Long enough,
I won't dare shrink away.
I will grow into her until we are bursting together,
Until we are bold,
We are soft,
We are free,
We are
Everything-
I never imagined I could be
with another person.
So close,
together,
We could be more than magic.
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 6:10 PM UTC
It's one am and I'm laying out on my lawn because there is a small chance I'll see a meteor, and I am in no position to pass up a wish right now.
Because I've been wishing on stars and bones and praying and hoping to forget about you.
To forget that I loved you.
To forget what you did to me.
To forget how when I was with you, my pulse was so loud I would write melodies to the beat of my heart and let you play them for me.
Let you play them in all the right places.
You.
You were my
Brooding poet.
My midnight partner.
You were the hope I didn't know existed.
And it's nights like these I curse these **** city lights I used to love so much
before you came around.
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 5:47 PM UTC
Don't Stop.
Was the gentlest command that ever passed your lips.
My fingers danced across the keys,
Playing to the tempo of your scribbling pen.
We wrote a symphony that day,
Broken to the beat of our passionate hearts.
The arias of my poetry were never enough for you.
You had to hear them played in the form of
Chopin
Bach
Strauss
Anything you could write to.
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 5:43 PM UTC