these days i notice the way my limbs
sway gently as i walk
the rough catching of my thighs
has become unfamiliar
the space left between
left for someone to fill
love cuts through the hickory bark of my heart
your hatchet cracking me open
i spill
dinner dates on the rooftop overlooking the city
we both want to escape
with every mouthful i swallow your tender caresses
across my stomach i have hated for so long
how is it possible to feel alive around such a stranger
if you knew me would you love me
since you know me do you love me
teardrops from the sky hit my balcony
you held me as i wept that night
current joys
nostalgic nights
a hickory tree splintered open
bark cracking down the sides
raw and exposed
the lightning ripped open the truth and self
the soft white underbelly of hickory exposed.
Aug 20, 2020
Aug 20, 2020 at 12:44 PM UTC
I remember when we were
sickly brains and visible bones
and there was something so romantic
in dying.
The night you told me I was beautiful
and I laughed.
And I laughed.
And I laughed, because
who knew those words would mean so much
until you left me.
We would watch the clouds and talk about
how they were meant to be on the ground
but they
hung
themselves instead.
You joked that you were jealous, and you’d be a cloud one day.
If i’m honest, i didn’t really understand what you meant
i didn’t really know, and i still don’t know but
i do know
that when i look at the clouds
all i see
is
you
.
Oct 28, 2019
Oct 28, 2019 at 4:22 PM UTC
he makes me feel more dead than alive
and i thought it was the opposite
until i realised
i have craved being empty for so long
i count calories on my phone
because habits are hard to break.
i swear every time that
this pack of cigarettes will be the last
and then i find myself
lost again
and crawling up the stairs when i'm too drunk
is a tradition i never missed
because it never left to begin with
feb. 25.
Nov 15, 2018
Nov 15, 2018 at 11:21 AM UTC
(i can't write good poetry when i'm tired
so i'm sorry if this isn't to your liking)
giving myself a **** TED talk every time i want to get out of bed is
exhausting
to say the least
and it's cloudy -- i could make some metaphor
about how the sun doesn't shine
but i know you like metaphors
and cloudy days
so i don't.
i wrote a song today.
march 14.
Nov 15, 2018
Nov 15, 2018 at 11:21 AM UTC
i swear to god if i write one more ****
love poem
i am going to lose it
Nov 15, 2018
Nov 15, 2018 at 11:20 AM UTC
i was nine years old
when my body decided it could no longer
follow the marbled features of inspirations before myself
my slender, sculpted legs gave rise to thick
thighs
resisted against me
exposed me
and by then i thought
i would never
walk on the runways in high rise new york city buildings
bright city lights to highlight my flaws
my hips just as expansive as the judgment
they give way to scrutiny--
i pity the paintings trapped inside the louvre
i too despise the cold gaze of unwanted audiences
who complain of travel
who complain of coming such a long way
for a disappointment.
Nov 13, 2018
Nov 13, 2018 at 4:56 PM UTC
the day you died
i carefully
wrapped the delicate parts of myself up
in old blankets i had last used
with you
seeing your mother for the first time after wasn't
easy
searching her eyes for the memories of you
(the baby pictures were my favourite)
you had such little hands.
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 4:24 PM UTC
i.
some nights i feel powerful
like i have the energy
to entertain crowds of the strangers i live with
who get drunk off cheap alcohol in my living room.
empty plastic cups turned over, sticky red wine
carelessly splashed across linoleum tiles
kind of like how it feels when you get your heart broken
the sort of mess you are left to clean up alone.
ii.
the drunken stumbling, praying to make it to the bathroom in time
nobody notices the spilled wine until the morning
the frantic scrubbing so the ants wandering are not forced
to pull off their limbs
waiting for someone to save them.
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 4:17 PM UTC
you make me want to
***** fruitful words
they spill down my chin
you make lovesickness tangible
my forearms tingle from missing the circles
you trace into my skin
effortlessly
my mind twists itself in sailors knots with thoughts of
you
i go to school by the water
i have always thought the sunsets were beautiful
but once the sun has set it’s easy
to turn away from a sky full of stars
you are a galaxy
my mind craves the expansion
so I can
find the most lonely crevices of you
and make them whole again.
Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 8:38 AM UTC
i
am the one they write about in all the lovesick poems
i have found someone again--
not myself (yet)
i lost myself in the good & bad
my whole life i have been terrified of the dark
the late nights spent alone haunt something within me.
i slept with my legs on your bed last night and it's always been
unexplainable
as to why i feel safe with my legs off the sides of the bed
i think
i am comfortable being uncomfortable because i am
afraid of the opposite
but how wonderful it is to feel so small in such a big world
/
e.p.
Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 9:11 PM UTC