amfox - Hello Poetry

phase one: the crowds part for him, and something inside you does too; followed by your lips, followed by your thighs. you utter his name in your empty apartment just to feel its weight on your tongue. he scares you. phase two: he still scares you but you've moved things around to make room for the fear. you give it a bed. you give it his name. you feed it. you realize all at once that you could love him, and you are breathless with relief that you don't. but you could, just like you could hit the gas instead of the brakes and plunge into a ravine. on the road and then in the river just that fast. phase three: you're in the river. you wonder if you were ever really on the road. you think maybe you can live like this, just like you thought you could breathe underwater when you were four or so. exhaling is fine, it's easy, but on inhale you flood your lungs. he isn't what you needed, he is the water choking you, but it's not his fault you don't have gills. it isn't his fault you hit the gas instead of the brakes.

0

Sep 29, 2016

Sep 29, 2016 at 1:06 PM UTC

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phase one: the crowds part for him, and something inside you does too; followed by your lips, followed by your thighs. you utter his name in your empty apartment just to feel its weight on your tongue. he scares you. phase two: he still scares you but you've moved things around to make room for the fear. you give it a bed. you give it his name. you feed it. you realize all at once that you could love him, and you are breathless with relief that you don't. but you could, just like you could hit the gas instead of the brakes and plunge into a ravine. on the road and then in the river just that fast. phase three: you're in the river. you wonder if you were ever really on the road. you think maybe you can live like this, just like you thought you could breathe underwater when you were four or so. exhaling is fine, it's easy, but on inhale you flood your lungs. he isn't what you needed, he is the water choking you, but it's not his fault you don't have gills. it isn't his fault you hit the gas instead of the brakes.

26

i know how this will end. i will sneak into your apartment before the cops arrive. i will take one of your shirts from the hamper, your blanket off the bed, and sleep wrapped up in both every night until i remember how to dream without you.

0

Sep 26, 2016

Sep 26, 2016 at 7:31 AM UTC

//

i know how this will end. i will sneak into your apartment before the cops arrive. i will take one of your shirts from the hamper, your blanket off the bed, and sleep wrapped up in both every night until i remember how to dream without you.

8

i have your sticky fingerprints all over my face: laying on the carpet, drawing with crayons, waiting out the storm. i've loved you since we were nine or so, making plans to start a rock band but never learning to play. we just wanted to end up together, just didn't have the language to say so in so many words. i still don't.

0

Aug 6, 2016

Aug 6, 2016 at 12:22 AM UTC

angela

i have your sticky fingerprints all over my face: laying on the carpet, drawing with crayons, waiting out the storm. i've loved you since we were nine or so, making plans to start a rock band but never learning to play. we just wanted to end up together, just didn't have the language to say so in so many words. i still don't.

6

first: the i’ll-follow-you-anywhere kind of new love. the swell of promise, of possibility; the beginning of a long walk through a dark town that you've never visited, the moment of accepting all you don't know, disregarding the unknown variables, and wanting to give it a shot anyway. compare to: i’ve followed you everywhere, and now i know how you sleep and what your blood looks like; i know you and i love you anyway.

0

Aug 6, 2016

Aug 6, 2016 at 12:15 AM UTC

⌛

first: the i’ll-follow-you-anywhere kind of new love. the swell of promise, of possibility; the beginning of a long walk through a dark town that you've never visited, the moment of accepting all you don't know, disregarding the unknown variables, and wanting to give it a shot anyway. compare to: i’ve followed you everywhere, and now i know how you sleep and what your blood looks like; i know you and i love you anyway.

2

flies in my honey, ants in my bed. the crucifix is crying: jesus wants down.

0

Jul 26, 2016

Jul 26, 2016 at 10:39 PM UTC

☎

flies in my honey, ants in my bed. the crucifix is crying: jesus wants down.

4

my first clear conviction since i found jesus in louisiana: i will not die. i will not let you **** me.

0

Jun 26, 2016

Jun 26, 2016 at 4:39 PM UTC

✟

my first clear conviction since i found jesus in louisiana: i will not die. i will not let you **** me.

3

to apologize would be a bruise to your pride, but i love you emerges from a tangle of teeth and wire, and for another night i stay.

0

Jun 20, 2016

Jun 20, 2016 at 4:06 PM UTC

♤

to apologize would be a bruise to your pride, but i love you emerges from a tangle of teeth and wire, and for another night i stay.

4

i have watched the tectonic plates of your personality shake and shift under the shadows of your eyes for seven years now. you are the child in a perpetual state of rebirth, and i am the mother who weeps and mourns and breaks dishes like a poltergeist.

0

Jun 15, 2016

Jun 15, 2016 at 6:42 PM UTC

⟳

i have watched the tectonic plates of your personality shake and shift under the shadows of your eyes for seven years now. you are the child in a perpetual state of rebirth, and i am the mother who weeps and mourns and breaks dishes like a poltergeist.

6

i want to drink a bottle of cough syrup, i want to chase spirits into traffic, i want to throw myself to the wolves.

0

Jun 14, 2016

Jun 14, 2016 at 10:36 PM UTC

♡

i want to drink a bottle of cough syrup, i want to chase spirits into traffic, i want to throw myself to the wolves.

3

i can't shake the feeling of being watched, even in the dark lonely space of my kitchen. i've taken to wedging a knife between my mattress and box-spring.

0

May 23, 2016

May 23, 2016 at 3:10 AM UTC

⚔

i can't shake the feeling of being watched, even in the dark lonely space of my kitchen. i've taken to wedging a knife between my mattress and box-spring.

7