you just left
and for a while
i curled up on the couch
onto the exact cushion
where we had just left our mark
and i cried
quiet hiccupy sobs
and then
after a bit
i sat right up
and wiped my eyes
and glazed over for a bit
staring at the putty blue adhesive stains
from the posters we hung up
that fell
hung up
and fell
and then i started cleaning
stacked the wine bottles back on the shelf
put the guitar back in its case and the ashes in the can
picked up the ******* and socks and sweaters
that were thrown away carelessly onto the floor
when passion took hold
before we crawled naked under the sheets
under the little white lights
under the hanging paperclips and old ballet shoes
and twisted our limbs round one another
which shook with every second longer our eyes looked into the other
and you said
You are an angel.
You probably won't tell me though, because you're not allowed.
But that's okay, I know.
and i,
slightly above you
with your head in my hands
looked at the four freckles sprinkled upon your arm
and watched the veins in your wrist pulse each time you squeezed my thigh
and brushed through your wild hair with my fingers
that went down to the scar near your right eye
-the bluest of eyes-
and i,
i knew i would be holding you in my arms like this forever
and it made my nose tingle and breath grow deep
so i knew tears were next
but i let them come
and we sat there
together
for a long while
you and i on the couch
but you just left
and i am still
curled up on the couch.
Nov 10, 2013
Nov 10, 2013 at 11:39 PM UTC
Stuck my hand in a jar of jewels
And the rock I grabbed looked a lot like you
Cut my skin but the blood wouldn’t show
Forgot to breathe
Before I cried
Cold sand like the secret you told
When we climbed over rocks to kiss the waves
Lost the light but caught up with the moon
Just in time
To make it home
Felt your breath beat the drum of my ear
Too close to cry
I told you so
I thought I told you so
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 8:36 PM UTC
I found your eyelash on my pillowcase
I could use the wish
I don’t want to be here anymore
I will see you on the road
Things are best left unmade
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 8:33 PM UTC
you rock me
like the wind on an old sailboat
and i'm thrown off my balance
tilting from one toe to the other
tenuously tightroping above a terrible tide
with a smile plastered on my fragile face
so you don't know
that i'm hurting inside
that i'm dying inside
and my words never seem to amount
to anything at all
you hear them
and you answer
but do you really mean what you say?
would you really run away?
with me?
well,
i'm still here
and you're still
there
way over
there
and i miss you
but you rock me
and i don't know if i'll make it
to the end of december
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 8:24 PM UTC
i have a lot
on my mind
nowadays
well,
everyday
for as long as i can
remember
and no matter how hard
i press
my temples
the beatbeatbeat
never goes away
and i
drown
in the same ocean i dared
dip my little toes in
as a child
with sun-swept blonde hair
and a feathered fairy skirt
that would soon
shrink
and shred
just like the happiness
inside my head.
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 8:01 PM UTC
He told me
people are like
long
dark
hallways.
You flicker on the lights
and wobble around
but you have to just keep
going forward.
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 3:50 PM UTC
The train barreled along, passing through the shore of some forgotten beach full of untouched nature and long lost secrets of love.
There was a humble sort of beauty to it, like a treasure hidden in the sheets – a child’s tiny first lost tooth, or the shy underwear from the first night with a first love, or the crinkled letter your grandma keeps under her pillowcase to remind her how much your grandpa loved her.
It was marshy, the sunken skin of the ocean left a perfect mixture of land and sea at the bottom of your feet and on the reflecting canvas of your pupils.
An old shirtless man with a great white beard and blue pocketed shorts stood in the far left of the abyss, hunched over and sifting through the mysterious marsh mixture, stirring the sand spell with a broken white shell.
The train snuck past the scene but my eyes followed that man until he became a piece of my past and my soon-to-be yesterday
Every part of me longed to be beside him, feeling that cold shock of pumping blood from Earth’s surface.
Forgetting for a while that my feet were strung to this place, tied only by the knot of some strange force that belonged to a universe I didn’t really know and wasn’t really sure what I was doing in
To instead just smell the air and feel the breeze and thank every particle that danced around my lost bones that I could do just that.
Too bad the train I’m on doesn’t make a stop there.
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 3:25 PM UTC
I sat on a stoop
and smoked my last cigarette
and thought of making love with you
as the wind played dancing games
with the night’s forgotten litter.
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 3:11 PM UTC
My hands fumble to find the switch
A change from light to dark
To drown my trembling imperfections out in a numbing abyss
A blinding black blur that calls the demons out from under the bed skirt
Where they’ve been playing with dust and fraying my trust and squeezing my brain and pressing my pain
And laughing
Oh how they laugh at me
With their pointy teeth slapping the air that denies my breath
I beg them to leave
Let me sleep! I say.
But they tickle my ear with their fiery tongues
And jump like a bounce house on top of my lungs
My body keels over and I pull my chest close
Prepare to deflect the next daunting dose
My hands clutch crush and my knuckles weep white
A basket of bones by my skin’s sorry sight
That hangs like a wet carpet outside to dry
Old and forgotten by a golden goodbye
But the sun forgot how to simmer and shine
And the air carries a vapor heavy with signs
That point down to the ground but I know there is more
They call me to a place that is far past the floor
Yes darkness drums dream demons for in it all I see
Is my soul’s own inferno forever beckoning me
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 3:05 PM UTC
Hipsters with hats to hide their ordinary minds
Young men in button-down shirts spouting political prophecies to prove a point
Too cut and dry to see there’s more to it all than a dot at the end of a line.
Because lines are endless and so is time
But they wouldn’t know because their grand silver watches pull their puppet strings
So they run just to hide from their tick-tocking pride
A pocket of bombs to blow up their lies
And just as they’re reaching their cubicle crate
White Rabbit runs by them to tell them they’re late
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 2:57 PM UTC