never trust
the boy who says
he loves you
never trust
the green eyes
or the wicked lips
never trust
your own heart
because it doesn't know ****
but you will believe him
and you will fall hard
and you will get hurt
Sep 26, 2014
Sep 26, 2014 at 4:30 PM UTC
I don't want to desire
waking up next to you
with limp limbs
and ruffled hair.
I don't want to daydream
about that chipped tooth
that appears when you smile
or when you say my name.
I don't want to play pretend
and imagine our lives
intertwined when we are 38
but still acting 17.
It's true.
I don't want any of these things.
I need them.
I need you to
fill my body
like the oxygen
in my lungs.
I need you to
hold me tighter
to you than
gravity to earth.
I need you to
read this and
see that you
need me too.
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 11:39 PM UTC
I tried to write a poem
about your lips.
The way they curve, swell, and smash
like the waves on the Texas coast
we always talk about,
but haven't seen.
Or maybe about your eyes
that aren't just green
but a lively emerald
like the lily leaves
in the stained glass windows
of my church you won't go in.
Or maybe about your hands.
Rough, strong, and calloused
like mountains, yet,
run over me like a river
swirling and smooth
into the depths.
But somehow,
I can't bring myself
to write about any of those
because like the lead in this pencil
or your terrible memory,
all things fade away.
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 11:36 PM UTC
Bird perched on a vein
Pumping, pulsing
Talons on my pain
Beating sets the stage
Fluttering, flying
Against its cage
Away, it may try
Fighting, crying
But unable to fly
Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 8:50 PM UTC
I like talking to you about the weather
because you are far enough away
for it to always be different
from me,
yet close enough so that
what was once yours,
slowly becomes mine.
Feb 17, 2014
Feb 17, 2014 at 8:35 PM UTC
You want someone
to write sad poems
about you as they
wait all alone.
But she is not here.
She doesn't have time
to write about you.
She's too busy fighting fear.
So wait at my door
or wait at my grave.
I wait for no one.
Not even a word more.
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 3:39 PM UTC
Trace the veins on your arm
Because they lead to your heart.
We don't know what the future holds,
So in the meantime,
We will hold eachother.
Read the autobiography on your eyelids
As you sleep beneath the moon.
In the night, I can finally see you.
Our past had a hold on us.
Clammy hands yearning for throats.
Intertwine fingers and I will kiss you back.
If the world ends in fire and flames,
All our smoke will be the same.
Oct 21, 2013
Oct 21, 2013 at 8:47 PM UTC
Spark the neurons in my brain
and they travel down my spinal cord
until they pierce my heart and I
bleed
bleed
bleed
while you
drink
drink
drink
until you are red with wine.
Renewed by every part of my soul
you prowl around stalking new prey.
When we touched, I would forget
which limb was mine
and which was yours
and as I looked at the big picture
you could only see mismatched puzzle pieces
and now I have suffocated.
He doesn't know that when he breathes,
he breathes life into me.
I have been extinguished.
Sep 4, 2013
Sep 4, 2013 at 4:49 PM UTC
Things that make us better.
Rule #1: Wait for nothing.
Love the earth
and
Love your blood.
Be Fearless.
Be your own Beautiful.
Be Good or Bad
because what is great for you,
is great for us.
My advice: Be a Black Sheep
and Embrace things you don't know.
Every New Life begins with a confident smile.
You are more than a pretty face.
The young are at risk,
protect yourself.
Every day Matters.
Call your talent 'mine.'
Only the brave can
hold the world.
Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 10:45 PM UTC
Within the heat
of the midst of July,
the stars could hear
a mournful cry.
The sun let out
a sorrowful sigh.
Day was ending
in the midst of July.
The clouds hid the moon
as it closed an eye.
He hid all alone
in the darkness of July.
The moon longed for the light.
The sun wished for the dark sky.
They could never be together,
apart from the mid-evenings of July.
Jul 7, 2013
Jul 7, 2013 at 11:21 AM UTC