because carl doesn't understand what it's like to be scared of your own boyfriend
to gaze into his beautiful warm brown eyes and feel worried
carl doesn't know what it's like to not trust your friends
he doesn't know you hold your breath and close your eyes too tight
for sleep or for **********
because you're always waiting for it to happen again
he doesn't know
you think about his hand on your breast and in your ***** every single time you ****
even the kind of **** that makes you moan loud and curl your toes
cause it's so good
carl doesn't know what it's like to not be safe in his own ******* body, to feel terrified in his skin
he doesn't know what it's like to not have a home
carl doesn't know how it feels to have your opinion ignored about the most essential component of your humanity
to feel ***** inside and out
because someone tore your autonomy from you
to feel like you're infected in the core of your being
carl doesn't know what it's like to be so out of it
you're confused what's happening, your head is spinning
when someone squeezes your right breast hard
and the someone is a person you love
someone you laughed with him too many times to count
he doesn't know you couldn't believe it because it was a dream dream dream
carl doesn't know that he would have continued if you hadn't pushed him off
that you had to push him off
carl doesn't know that so many
can overpower you
if they wanted
he doesn't know that your struggles are futile
that your screams are unheard
that you can be taken when you don't want to be
anytime really
because who is watching
not carl.
May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 5:37 AM UTC
I stretch my tiny hands into the sun
extend my legs to be neighbors with roots
flutter my eyes like a hummingbird's wings
open them wide as a lemur
duck and roll out of my fortress of blankets
clunky feet stamp across hardwood floors
I search in the wooden box of treasures
strip the adornments of my slumber
step into my cozy black attire for the day
jingle my keys as I close the bars to my castle
reach one foot into the world
forgetting my place
I am a rabbit caught in a trap
cars whip by, my brain starts to hum
I slip my headphones in
hundreds of heavy bodies barrel into one another
flickers of flames lick my boiling skin
crescent moons indent the rosy lines of my future
my lungs are charred and shrinking
this foggy place is still
metal on my temple
the silence is submerged in the echo of a bang I will never hear
my body whimpers and wilts
why does His hand always crave the trigger
I whisper a curse like a hymn
to the yellow orb that laughs
at the hundred steel links scraping against pavement
like His personal symphony of madness
Apr 12, 2017
Apr 12, 2017 at 3:44 PM UTC
Forever
is a long time
to remember who I am
with you by my side
Apr 10, 2017
Apr 10, 2017 at 4:27 AM UTC
we sat
in identical chairs
feet on the floor
eyes on the teacher
this man told us the tales of reality
but the characters went missing
we sat in identical chairs
offered questions we had fully prepared
articulated our 'best' thoughts
within the confines of our lot
we sat in identical chairs
scratched doodles in the margins
of our dreams and values,
we hoped to never have to share
cause we're not fools
we have one voice
and certainly, no cares
cause we all
sat
in these identical chairs
Apr 6, 2017
Apr 6, 2017 at 1:59 PM UTC
his brain was a muted marble stuffed with cotton
his eye sockets were filled with angry bees
paper-thin eyelids folded over a buzzing lens
weary eyes opened once again- gaze flitting from wall to wall
manic resistance to this reality, he mumbled to himself
lullabies that soothed the soul
limbs were anchors that he dragged alongside him
all of them achy
whining to him- why must we move now
static consumed every moment washing away any familiarity
a monochrome blanket infected each picture
and each picture became a wedge between the familiarities and himself
a haze hugged him tight like an old friend and he sunk into his warm blue blankets
thought of the gray metal friend in his drawer and how nice it might be
to make clouds and stars of colored glass
Apr 2, 2017
Apr 2, 2017 at 12:00 PM UTC
We should be tearing our skin off because of the millions of deaths we've caused
We should see the pictures
Piles of limbs
Piles of bodies with skin stretching over ribs, arms scrawny like twigs
And we should weep for weeks
Our lungs collapsing, eyes dulling, our bodies sagging with the ungodly burden of humanity
Knowing, that rests just in logic, our ability to destroy
The tendencies that rest in us
To be cruel, to keep our mouths shut when the batons come out
To sneer at men who are too weak to stand
We should be tearing our skin off
For the atrocities, we today chose to ignore
It's hard to accept that anyone can be fully present and also accept life
Mar 23, 2017
Mar 23, 2017 at 1:50 AM UTC
leaves crunch under my feet
golden light spills through the the branches that criss-cross above
and god sits with me
birds chatter somewhere else- in their own world
i can feel the dirt under me and the silence that embraces warmly
no one is here
no one ever seems to be
god sits with everyone
silence fills the void and we are not apprehensive anymore
Mar 11, 2017
Mar 11, 2017 at 5:17 AM UTC
what is worth my time?
how can I determine the worth of something with no meter?
a second looking in his dark eyes is suspended
an 'hour' 'crafting' drinks is an eternity
a paintbrush lets seconds slip like red splashes on my new pants
indigo ink on light paper that crinkles when my hand presses
slows it to a crawl
screeching tires smashed headlight tense
forever
crash in our house
sheets of rain running with a crying brown haired girl
we sit and wait
and this so called time sits with her and runs from me
all of this is precious
my mind cannot comprehend the objective nonsense that is time
but it can twist anything it is given with time
that is nonsense, what beautiful nonsense
Mar 11, 2017
Mar 11, 2017 at 5:04 AM UTC
he lays next to me
breathing softly
broad shoulders, curly hair
striped comforter laying
heavy on him
all tension removed
folded inside himself
safe at last
Mar 11, 2017
Mar 11, 2017 at 4:40 AM UTC
divine diligence
pursing of the lips
digging in the dry dirt
grasping for rough roots
of the mind
toying with the temptress
of time
gazing at her long legs
they simply go on and on
her hazy eyes that swirl
with closely-held promises
of warm, wet tomorrows
soaked in sunlight
dipped in easy laughter
Feb 22, 2017
Feb 22, 2017 at 1:39 PM UTC