There’s lace blooming in my mouth.
But I hold it down,
Hammering nails into my tongue,
So that you’ll never see,
What dips beneath the spit.
There’s lace blooming in my mouth,
And it grows from under the muscle,
Billowing and curling,
Until I have to clench my yellowing teeth so you won’t know.
There’s lace blooming in my mouth,
And it teases my lips,
As I try to bite them shut,
Until a trickle of blood dyes the concealed lace.
There’s lace blooming from my mouth.
It’s scarlet tresses cascade over my barriers,
And falls to the floor.
It takes over the carpet,
Creeping up desks and chairs,
Trying to bury in my fists what I could never suppress.
And I grip the fabric in anticipation.
Apr 12, 2018
Apr 12, 2018 at 6:26 PM UTC
The world will never forget May 5th,
when my birthmother’s piercing call disturbed the atmosphere,
Forcing the Monday clouds into hiding.
It will never forget how the rivers dried up,
After the months of mourning my coming,
And Jordan’s death,
How within that nurturing cradle I ended his existence,
Before he even had a chance to live,
The twin I’d never come to know,
A name I’ll never forget.
The new moon shriveled at my arrival,
Bringing forth a moonless night.
My birth being the beginning of their war,
As my grandma and birthmother fired their weapons,
Mere inches from gashing each other.
I became the ruin of their lives,
The downfall of my birthmother.
And yet this catastrophe lit up the sun,
So that even at night,
A halo circled the Earth,
“Wished for child”
My future parent’s hope,
A candle in their devastation,
To the stranger’s willing to save my life.
Apr 12, 2018
Apr 12, 2018 at 6:26 PM UTC
Did your eyes ever become for me like stars?
Or your name,
my beacon when I'm lost in a desert,
Starved and piling sand into a gourmet meal,
As if the wealthiest have met with me,
And I, an honored guest at their party,
I bow to the host,
Before his flakey head crumbles to the ground,
And the other guests shriek at his absence.
The stars could've guided my way,
Out of this birthing grounds of delusion,
But here I sit,
throwing a fit in the sand,
as grains shoot against the sky in my frustration.
As they plummet back to Earth,
Another guest comes crashing to the ground.
Who needed her company anyway?
I begin to kick the guests,
Letting their knees buckle as they meet my floor,
until I'm once again all alone.
Mar 16, 2018
Mar 16, 2018 at 5:16 PM UTC
This surface,
So cool and smooth,
as if such a portal could devour me.
I trace my hand across it's crystal edges,
And hers follows mine.
But can't she see,
I'm not her.
Maybe once upon a time,
but that land was years away.
When witches nibbled at her arms,
And the prince took one glance at her sleeping face,
Before running away with the dragon.
I'm not her!
I threw away that facade,
And like her prince,
I too ran,
far away from my femininity,
Far away from the tower society built me.
Now I stand,
staring into the surface of my past,
chanting to the mirror, mirror on my wall,
to remind myself of the flesh I never wish to inhabit.
The shadows creeping under her chin tell stories and dance across her ears,
They march under her chest and through her hair,
And I, an observer,
delighted to have left this scene.
My hand trails down her face,
not an ounce of longing nor care,
Wishing that one day she too could be on this side of the glass.
Because; She is not me.
Mar 16, 2018
Mar 16, 2018 at 5:07 PM UTC
On this path she walked down,
She found a wilting rose,
Alone in it's sorrows.
Once there stood names,
each containing a face she would never recognize,
A story her lips could never speak,
Unless she first asked.
These names were chairs,
waiting for someone to sit,
But their owners will never again visit them.
She found a wilting rose,
But once there were many,
Blooming Roses,
As red as the vibrant liquid that once filled these names,
Now empty words sitting on tongues unable to be whispered.
Bright White carnations,
Hoping for doorsteps to be walked on,
and the sweet sweet tune of, "I'm home"
To ring through the entrance,
Families would smoother their loved one,
Just for walking in the door.
But the wind pushes the flowers from their chairs,
To be trampled on the path.
She places them back in their seats,
As if she too believes the carnations lies.
The next day a name was removed,
An empty chair stood,
as if no one belonged there.
For who would dare remember a single name,
When a whole aisle stands before you?
Again she left the chairs to mourn their emptiness,
To forget their existence until the next time through.
But there were only flowers lining the grass where chairs once were,
As if the disappearance of a name reminded the others that they too would vanish,
And just like that,
The field was barren besides a single rose.
The snow turning to grass,
Winter to spring.
For the world moves on,
And names will go unspoken in time.
This rose will wither.
Mar 15, 2018
Mar 15, 2018 at 7:19 PM UTC
Everything you say is but a lie,
It melts over your lips as if stormy winds were ascending,
This caged monstrosity within my chest was but a butterfly,
The murky waters pouring from your eyes will not dry,
as if your words were worth defending,
Everything you say is but a lie.
And I am done faking my reply,
As if what you say could ever be less than offending.
This caged monstrosity within my chest was but a butterfly.
I am sick of forever trying to satisfy,
an ear so condescending,
Everything you say is but a lie.
But no matter how hard I try,
To you, my heart will never be worth lending.
This caged monstrosity within my chest was but a butterfly,
To someone I could not defy,
To your every action I am done assenting.
Everything you say is but a lie,
This caged monstrosity within my chest was but a butterfly.
Mar 15, 2018
Mar 15, 2018 at 6:18 PM UTC
Everything you say is but a lie,
It melts over your lips as if stormy winds were ascending,
This caged monstrosity within my chest was but a butterfly,
The murky waters pouring from your eyes are unending -
streams, as if your words were worth defending,
Everything you say is but a lie.
And I am done pretending,
That what you say could ever be less than offending.
This caged monstrosity within my chest was but a butterfly.
I am sick of forever venting,
to an ear so condescending,
Everything you say is but a lie.
But no matter how hard I try,
To you my heart will never be worth lending.
This caged monstrosity within my chest was but a butterfly,
To someone incapable of spending-
time with me, to your every action I am done assenting.
Everything you say is but a lie,
This caged monstrosity within my chest was but a butterfly.
Mar 15, 2018
Mar 15, 2018 at 6:17 PM UTC
'What ifs' are the sheets I choke on at night.
They Knott around my tongue,
And pull tight,
Till sand pours from the small muscle.
These waves of questions, forever lapping at the shores of my bedside.
I lay on it's beaches,
Unable to be lured to sleep.
Self-reprimandation is the caffeine I drink at 3:30 am
and by 5
I'm surfing the waves of mistakes I've made over the last few days,
and every hour stacks years into the currents.
But I'm pulled under by the tidal waves of
'what's wrong with me'
until I drown in the slumber of my tears.
Mar 15, 2018
Mar 15, 2018 at 6:15 PM UTC
They say there is a man in the moon,
How he got stuck in that orb they’ll never know – But I do.
I say that there is a man in our sky.
The stars are the freckles dotting his face,
Gifted to him by his golden eye,
Each dot fading behind a pale blush by morning,
As his glimmering eye guards the day,
So his moonlit eye can rest.
A quiet observer,
He watches over this world,
A dinner table of his entertainment,
Watching the living from day to day.
But by nightfall,
Our man in the moon,
Is but a reflection of himself,
Painted in the glimmering iris.
Mar 15, 2018
Mar 15, 2018 at 6:14 PM UTC
The battleground lays between you and me,
A Patch of Earth build for this very cause,
'Neath rock and tree.
I see your army,
Laid out weapons at the ready,
Your soldiers carry guns loaded with ' never good enough'
And bows notched with 'ugly'
The soldiers let out a cry,
Letting me know I'm an unwanted foe.
They spit at my feet,
And laugh,
The grins displaying rotting teeth,
Covered in slime,
Laid thick from their poisonous words.
But I,
alone on my patch of grass sit back and smile,
Your wars begun,
But mine is already over.
Making my way across the field to you,
I take your men by the arm,
And weave mine through theres,
Hugging away the armor,
Away the guns,
And the annumition,
And say, "Go home to your families. Your loved."
Yet a single dagger pierces my chest,
As I fall and lay flat,
Hypocrisy drifts from the wound,
And the war starts again.
Mar 9, 2018
Mar 9, 2018 at 6:50 PM UTC