b-fur
There's so much open space I feel wasteful not typing in it, so I will use this space to declare that there is nothing worthy to put in this space. Poems are for me (and it seems many others) the best way to get across any "bio" information. If I tried to do it here it would be a HOT. MESS.
Your face tells of tales
Like a veteran.
Spattered residue
From something done to you.
I could have cleaned you right away,
But this pattern hints that
I like to watch the decay
And the inherent struggle
With elbow grease and sponge
Of another day.
(Another day
You’ll be white porcelain canvas
Another day
You’ll hold fresh nourishment in your womb
Another day
You’ll be this
Another day.)
Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 6:58 PM UTC
There was nothing to do but wait,
To analyze the set-in facts.
Did you hear my voice
Once I let go of your ear.
Or must I always tug
Always remind you dear
(We're something important)
All you say is ok,
That short, thin-lipped way
That short-eyed stare
At some wall I can't see,
But must have made when
I asked for affection.
Your teeth-white glory
And field roaming eyes,
Sure, they say ok.
To give-ins on
Detachment
Dejection
-oh right, sorry-
"Independence"
Have I grown large
Is that why you no longer wrap arms around me?
It must be all that discontent I eat,
And I'm eating for two.
To wake you up on the right side of bed
To find my peace
To keep you chewing on the beautiful side of your head
To halt my incessant sleep
-goes straight to the hips.
Soaking in terrible hit.
Kick and throw fits.
I'll pull into comI ******* HATE ALL THIS WRITING
WHEN WILL I FIND THE WORDS
WHEN WILL I FIND WHERE YOU'VE GONE
I wish there were beautiful metaphors,
But we've tipped and toed into a rut
Far too real.
Apr 4, 2014
Apr 4, 2014 at 12:22 PM UTC
Take a look
At this decade's eternal light.
Youth, beauty, happiness.
In theory.
Is that how it was for our parents?
Top tags on this website
#depression #suicide #heartbreak
Are grandma's photo albums fairytales
Or has something changed
Without shame
Unmarked blame
Just a change
Perseverance died
At the doorstep of sarcastic self-deprecation,
Cool-to-be-lame facades,
Glorified depression, growing vines on glowing laptop walls
With a generation, fetal position, ripped jeans and eyeliner, inside
Self proclaimed ****
If you say it first
Those twisted lips of others
Won't press on such a fresh wound
And here we lose the metaphor
Cut yourself
So everyone else
Is picking at scabs
No one would hurt another
Who hurts themselves
Unless they're an ***
So the words are silenced
Are you stronger? Happier? Healthier?
And so we can always be safe
In our self loathing
Until puppy eyes and perfect pictures
Leave us hungry
Hurt by the people who don't mind being *****
Gaining assets, stealing rights from under
Our droopy dismal noses snapshot
Caption: **** up, let down, repeat. Hate me.
-politicians and companies will bash your head on rock bottom
Looking up in disbelief at chemical burns from Big Mac's
We'll look back down to pout about our pain.
The only way to save ourselves?
Perseverance
Positivity
Hope
Though I conveyed none of those emotions in this poem.
**** me.
I'm a hypocrite. But my point still stands.
Perhaps even stronger.
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 2:34 AM UTC
It shouldn't break my grounding,
Muscle under blubber under skin.
But I feel sworn into a secret club
It wasn't for lonely virtual lust
(mostly)
I just needed to remember.
I stared at that skin soft as mine
Goose bumped as mine
Folded
Bulging
*****
Curving
Jiggled
****
Unsightly
So many categories it can be tricky.
How do I know if this body was posted as beauty
Or horror?
I'm part of that club.
LIVING ORGANISM.
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 1:22 AM UTC
I sat next you,
watching you search for God
3,000 miles in limbo
hoping you didn't find
the mumbo jumbo I did
when I really thought about dusty books.
You asked for weather updates.
Please.
So I whispered in your cemented ears,
'cause you can't see a ******* thing
but progressive buildings.
It was as grey as the inside of your eyelids, anyway.
Right when I walked in,
my face went dead pan
with your fresh decision to die.
Anyway,
I sat.
I whispered.
It was fine.
I spectated on our situation.
Your sweating breathes,
my sweating eyes.
We're natural.
We don't matter.
Emotions are natural.
They don't matter.
When the dusted books disintegrate,
and mumbo jumbo weasels from
that little pocket most have cemented shut,
we'll feel much better.
I do feel much better.
Feel freely
fall freely
observe in captivation
stay here, while there.
Purpose
has only brought stress.
Try absurdity.
Try reality.
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 8:11 PM UTC
We live in gradients,
phase shifts.
Boiling,
bubbles one at a time
on the rise.
Body and mind is a futile question;
we will still be this
and some will be wrong.
Hooray.
Now, I'm steaming,
no longer a water drop
pulling itself together on your cheek.
Posed politely on a hillside
beautifully laid out in my mind.
I'm the fog headed west.
Muscles in corners strung high
-or at least higher than last month.
Gradient overlook
from dead grass to rusty leaves.
I. Can. Leave. Too.
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 7:56 PM UTC
Robin eggs,
smashed in the ground.
Another gulp,
I let my eggs drown.
Swallows
look more desperate
when they're dying for company.
I found my confidence,
in always laughing too loud
not remembering where I went
I don't want to spend more money.
I don't want to read a good book.
If I have to pick something,
I'll keep deliberating on that question.
Fears block the way I climbed up
-jump
the plunge is far too deep for breathe .
Please don't call
my heart will bear another pure lie
I'd have to tell you I'm doing fine.
Catchy conversations
held in shield of questions.
Old women tell me they're not fine,
never do I turn to my side.
Horsing blinders
I walk to the end of the aisle.
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 9:11 PM UTC