amelia-jo-anne
20-something Canadian. This isn't my main poetry site, but I keep it because sometimes I like to look at different styles of poetry, and to expose myself to a different audience. That's really how I see my writing: an exposure. / / Here is some other stuff that I do that you might be interested in: / / http://ameliorate--resurge.tumblr.com / (An accepting, open-minded site where you can receive honest, loving advice and support when you reach out to me. This is a safe place. <3) / / http://borders—lines.tumblr.com / (a personal blog. includes some of my free verse poetry, things I am passionate about, things I find cute or funny or meaningful. or selfies.) / / http://www.imma-duck.deviantart.com / (all my free verse poetry, some rants, visual poetry, personal journal posts, other things that I make.) / / http://www.summonaduck.deviantart.com / (free verse poets Daniel {summonaconjurer} and Amelia {imma-duck} team up in this collaborative poetry project)
i am a woman who hasn't gotten over her girlhood strifes. i am alive in conflict & chaos; when storms still i tremble. i struggle with questions of my own importance. if i am your leaning post, why do i feel so alone? i am one ocean with many seas, rivers, harbours & waterfalls - each with their own names. i am not of this realm, yet my father calls me worldly. i struggle with questions of my own identity. if everyone sees me as one solid being, why do i feel so broken? i am a lover of opposites, of balanced scales, of reflections: black & white, girls & boys, sea & sky, everything & nothing, always & never. the sometimes, the somewhat, the earth, transvestites, grey zones: they don't sit well with me. & yet i am spokesperson for the exceptions (i before e, except after c. using drugs to have *** with people is assault, except for ****** i only like to write with black pens, except when I want to use a pencil. i only drink black coffee, except when I crave a double-double. i only **** girls, except when i need a **** each girl has her own firm resolve, that is contradicted with another's opinions: my whole existence is self-hypocrisy. i struggle with questions of conflicts in my own interest. if i am decided, why do i peer with longing at the other options? i am a planner, an organizer, a sorter: i put my problems in piles. i am erratic, scatterbrained & impulsive. i use my abilities to try to outsmart my destructive tendencies; to try & balance the scales. my flighty adventures often win over my obsessive habits. i struggle with questions of my own intent. if i am scared of commitment, why do i keep promising?
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 4:06 PM UTC
there is something in me
that feels immortal when I think on you
my heart leaps in longing
of what might be
you want to heal with me
to be my warrior in times of need
I am your princess
"baby, everything you do is adorable"
you said
mommy kicked you out when you needed her
daddy ****** your step-sister
siblings who were scared by you
clouds of dust billowed up as we hit rock bottom together
my crazy arouses you
you're the one who understands
it scares me I only want you
I have this infatuation
for guys who can't touch me
like I believe they can't touch me
yet they ****** my heart up
as money found on the road
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 4:05 PM UTC
there is something in me
that feels deceased when I think on you
my head sinks in sadness
of what might have been
you wanted to fix me
to be my knight in armor
I was your naughty little girl
"baby, you're the sexiest I've had"
you said
mommy took care of your every need
daddy would dance to rock & roll
siblings who laughed with you
you've never been lower than the clouds
my crazy frustrates you
you'll never understand
you found out the hard way I wasn't lying when I said I don't do monogamy
I have this infatuation
for guys who can't touch me
like I believe they can't hurt me
yet they ****** my heart up
as money found on the road
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 4:04 PM UTC
My eyes are so bleary
I guess I'm young but I feel so weary
[All these bones are so old
My mind is crumbling in my weathered mold]
{Decaying, scattered, feathered thoughts
My eyes eclipsed & overwhelmed with black spots}
[I know it's hard, like days and nights collide
It's in my heart I trust, and in yours I confide]
{One coming from the other; Passing calender notes as the cesarean bruise
The numbers fall & smother; These fleeting emotions are for us to peruse}
[And no one else can break or lose my trembling mind as good as: I can find a way to breathe this liquid molten lava cyanide.]
{No one else brakes so loose my trembling my
No semblance I can find of you trembling you
I as good as mind? Can a way find I to breathe?
molten cyanide liquid lava
I'm all mixed up in you}
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 4:03 PM UTC
If there is anything I need from you, it is waking me up with a kiss & a cup of black coffee, offering your arms so I can hide my face when I blush, to think my eccentricities are endearing, to simply hold me when I shudder often, to know I don't always need you to have the right thing to say: I just need you. My kiss is wild abandonment; my mind turns off & all I know is what your lips want from mine & how your body demands & will receive my own. I hope you won't turn away when you see I'll easily become any color you hint I should be. I'm at a loss that something so moldable could have any handholds to grasp.
hair like singed chestnuts, embers still alight. eyes full of moss & earth. skin as speckled sand. your nose is crooked & you remind me of a bird, flighty yet focused. I have never seen a bird out of touch with the moment; whatever is in front of him is his attention's duty, & you are no exception. if you only knew how I felt to be the duty of your attention.
the way you dug through your handbag, set on your lap... I smiled because it looked like you were peering into wonderland's entrance, contained inside your purse. your navy stilettos made you an auburn giant, tall & wafer thin. I want to take a bite. xo. Sophia.
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 4:02 PM UTC
to never know when I'm going to stop. each new girl topples out over the last, already midway into her own ******** her own catastrophe. to be out of control. to be constantly out of context. to live once or twice removed. to see kaleidoscopes in every drawn eyelid. to deal with the repercussions of the Other's actions. to only feel Whole with eyes closed & voice in hallelujahs. to hate being used, yet need it, crave it for the feeling of being wanted. to have sound hallucinations. to feel empty chronically. to feel emotions suddenly turn off. to rattle & shake under the lightest of pressures & thrive in chaos. to be distracted into dysfunction. to love. to love everyone except me(s). to mark my body with insults. to rack my mind with misgivings. to never be understood & to always be overestimated.
--
but to love. to always be humble. to always see others before self. to understand other's pain. to have so many bad memories, thus revel in every good one. to live in the emotional gutter then feel euphoric when crawling on level ground. to know that normal can never become extraordinary. to blow minds often, feel **** in my own skin. to be open to unexplored territory. to love often, powerfully, uncontrolled, chronic overflowed rivers, oceans of oscillating passions. to see kaleidoscopes in every drawn lid & know that others will never be mesmerized by the odd beauty i find ordinary. to close my eyes & raise my voice. hallelujah. hallelujah.
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 4:01 PM UTC
it's this alternating reality between the
dull, throbbing ache of desolation,
the sharp jolts of pain & the
euphoria, the drive to make, build
Rome in one day.
it's the alternation realities between
the inflation where I laugh until I scream,
kick chairs, throw pets down stairs,
rip every hair from my head,
punch myself to see stars,
scream until I laugh
&
the deflation where I sit
back down, stare into mirrors
to tell myself what
I really think of me,
carve insults into my woodworkings,
pull my knees to my chest,
rock myself into hallucinations
or imaginary safe zones.
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 4:00 PM UTC
chronic insomnia keeps the shakes coming steady
blunts steady the coming shakes
this world can't handle the whole
portion myself into fractions
i need you because you give me someone to be
your hands around my neck give me room to breathe
this comfortable pain
this questionably sane
these schizophrenic musings
my amusing bipolar bruisings
these anxiety retches
my borderline sketches
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 3:59 PM UTC
you are the words that breathe through me. lift, move me. the item for a shopper's perusing; for use and abuse-ing. i'm your bend over barbie doll, your late night ***** call, the push over & the fall. i scrape myself off your boot; keep waiting for trees to bear fruit. it's funny how you can **** me til i'm lame & i still believe i deserve more pain.
how can i believe i'm worth your while when i know you don't care about proving it to me? it's so much sexier for you to see me beg, watch me grovel & worship your **** as if you are my only hope (for all intensive purposes, i mostly believe you are; you save me from facing myself at night. seminated distraction as masochistic salvation).
leave me mangled gasping hair tangled in your fingers grasping & you're lingering by the door, contemplating whether to leave me or take me on the floor. this is all i am to you: tested tried wrong used. bleed me until you stop seeing red, drag me willing or indifferent back to your bed.
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 3:59 PM UTC
swirling clouds of exhaustion wrapping themselves around my brain, colored ever so closely to those of funeral shrouds. i inhale fumes & hold them in my ribcage, hoping for cancers to form, praying for a physicality to the sickness in me, for a tumor i can point to: "there!" i would say, "this is where i hurt." but my cells only hold my bad memories as fibrous proteins. they clutch condescending looks & carry them in the illusioned hope they will motivate me forward: to prove them wrong, to rise above the insults, to use the weight they hold to propel myself further. instead, I sink beyond previously charted depths. my toes know the silt of a sandy bottom (rocks so broken apart they aren't even considered pebbles anymore; insignificant alone & incomparable heartaches uncounted or uncountable together). i anchor myself in this remorse, this hurt i can't point to. i yearn for selfish suicides & scoff at salvation.
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 3:58 PM UTC