I have a habit of kissing his palms
like I’m worshipping at the statue
of St. Joan of Arc, praying for strength.
I like kissing the inside of his elbows
to taste the hot, salty life resting
just below delicate skin. I bite him here.
Too often, I find myself kissing his neck
like Dracula going in for the **** except
I bring no death only big purple black holes.
I love kissing just below his bellybutton
to pay homage to his mother who lived connected
to him right above where I am connected to him.
My lips are always kissing his feet
like I am Mary Magdalene and he is
Christ, anointed oils spilled on the carpet.
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 8:42 PM UTC
Kiss my fingertips
so I feel you
Kiss my palms
so I hold you
Kiss my wrists
to taste my pulse
Kiss the inside of my elbows
to taste my life
Kiss my shoulder
to ease my burden
Kiss my neck
to ease me into you
Kiss my chest
to warm my heart
Kiss my belly
to feed my soul
Kiss my hips
to make me gasp
Kiss my thighs
to make me shiver
Kiss my knees
to see me smile
Kiss my feet
to hear me laugh
Kiss my body
to make me dance
Kiss me
to show you care.
Feb 11, 2014
Feb 11, 2014 at 1:13 PM UTC
I really loved you.
Always remember me like that.
When you enter those
shadowed corners of your mind,
to find me,
the ghost haunting you,
remember me as the girl
who loved you every day
whose big, hazel eyes
didn’t drill holes into your soul,
but created windows to let in the
sun.
Remember me when
I kissed you goodbye
and when I debated reality with you.
Remember me as the one who
you loved more than you should have.
As the girl who didn’t try to break you apart.
Remember me as a black cat
rubbing against your knees,
accidentally cursing you.
As the sunshine on bright summer days,
the eye of God, bright and inviting,
burning everything I could see.
Remember the sweet things I said,
the happiness I brought you,
the sadness I caused you,
the evil I didn’t mean to commit.
Remember me as my good and bad.
I contained it all for you.
Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 11:40 AM UTC
I wish I had known our last kiss was going to be our last kiss. I wouldn’t have let it go so fleetingly. I would have kissed you more earnestly, wrapped my arms around your neck, pulled you deeper. But I held that moment like water in my palms and it trickled between the cracks in my skin until I had no more moment and no more kisses and no more of your love.
I wish I had known our last kiss was going to be our last kiss. I would have kept it safer, worked harder to keep it alive. I wouldn’t have let you ever pull away. But I let it blow away on the wind and it’s lost among the trees now, a moment for someone else to capture.
Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 11:21 AM UTC
1) I’m so sorry. Please Forgive me.
2) You have my sweatpants still. I want them back.
3) My parents still think you’re gay. I don’t bother correcting them anymore.
4) I need you to forgive me. Please. Before the guilt eats me alive.
5) How dare you think of me as your ex-girlfriend when I thought of you as my best friend.
6) I want to play a game of Operation with your skinny body. I want to slowly pick your organs out of you one-by-one, knowing that it’ll hurt you as much as it hurt me when you said goodbye. I want to hurt you.
7) Do you remember the time you made a wish on a star? Do you remember the wish you made? Does that not matter anymore? Do I not matter anymore?
8) When I get drunk, I don’t talk because alcohol reminds me of you.
9) I miss you. Every day, right when I wake up, I miss you.
10) Do you think about me? Do you still hate me?
11) Don’t ever talk to me again, or I’ll cut your tongue out.
12) Please just talk to me. Tell me you don’t hate me.
13) How are you? I think of you every day and it makes me feel hollow.
14) Do you remember the last look you gave me on that last day? That look that promised that when you came back everything would be okay. I feel cheated because you left me.
15) What happened while you were gone? Was it me? Was it the drugs? The sex? When was the exact moment you stopped loving me? Did it make you cry?
16) How’s your new whore? Do her burps taste as good as my lips?
17) I hate you and everything about you. I want you to get out of my head and out of my life.
18) I miss you and the things we talked about. No one else could ever fill the gap you left in me.
19) I smoke a cigarette every day and it feels like revenge on you.
20) I hate love and it’s your fault.
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 1:00 PM UTC
Sometimes
I cut deep into my own flesh
and pour salt
lemon juice
powdered glass
acid
into my open,
bleeding,
pulsing
veins.
Because that pain
is under my control;
I can pretend it feels good.
I can pretend I want it.
Sometimes
I crack open my head
and pour out words
feelings
thoughts
emotions
and fill it up with
emptiness
emptiness
emptiness.
Because losing myself
to myself
is better than losing myself
to the pain of losing you.
Sometimes
I want to *****
cry
scream
drown
and release all my
hatred
numbness
fear.
Because then I would have
released you.
I could maybe feel lighter.
I could maybe feel better.
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 12:56 PM UTC
The ghost of your love is haunting me.
He comes to me in my dreams every night
and when I wear that sweater you liked.
He came to me again today
disguised as an old letter you wrote me
tucked between the pages of a book.
He punched me in the gut when he came today
like every other day he comes
which is everyday I wake up.
I cried last night,
just like the night before that
because he came and kissed me goodnight.
I couldn’t breathe yesterday,
when I read a poem about
two lovers holding hands.
I may seem okay to you
but I am far from being okay.
I am haunted by that which you killed.
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 12:53 PM UTC
Don't forget me.
Think of me now and then.
Think of me daily.
Smile at my name on your phone.
Take pleasure from texting me.
See things and wonder if I'll like them
Blush when I tell you kind things.
Be flattered when I call you friendly pet names.
Worry when I don't respond quickly.
Daydream of seeing me again.
Laugh too loudly when I make a joke.
Think of me as your confidante.
Think of when I was more than that.
Think of when I was less than that.
Appreciate that I am again.
Remember how it felt to hate me and be hurt by me.
Appreciate that that's changed.
Worry that you might love me again.
Lie and say you don't.
Lie and say you do.
Have fond memories of my body.
But never fantasize about it.
Struggle to give a name to our relationship.
Struggle to define the limits of our friendship.
Struggle against those limits.
Wish for more from me,
But never expect more.
If you can do all these things,
Do all these things every day,
Then you will have begun to understand
Just how it feels to be me,
thinking about you.
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 12:50 PM UTC
I love you.
Always remember me like that.
When you dredge me up
from far-off memories,
like lassoing in tiny fishing vessels
from a distant foggy shore;
remember me as the one
who loved you intensely,
who had big, hazel eyes
that looked at you with
all the love of the world in them.
Remember me when
I nuzzled my head against your chest,
and pressed my ear to your heart.
Remember me as the girl who
loved you more than she should have.
As the girl who didn’t want to break your heart.
Remember me as a wildflower
coming into bloom,
catching the sunlight on a cloudy day.
As a cat stretching out
on a sunlit window sill,
begging you to touch my head.
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 12:45 PM UTC