pulling you out of my seams
only to stitch myself up again.
tell me how to live off of my own nectar
when it's your honey I crave.
the body feels pain
but forgets it so quickly.
that's why while running to you
i'm never scared to skin my knees again.
Dec 12, 2017
Dec 12, 2017 at 9:50 PM UTC
We picked at each other like scabs.
Now all that's left are scars.
Jul 26, 2017
Jul 26, 2017 at 2:18 PM UTC
January fluttered by like the
'I love you’s' caught in her throat.
Cigarette embers of white smoke
shed on the coat tails of winter.
The morning frost licks her broken chest cavities
as blood bubbled across your wooden floor.
Warping wood of collapsing ceilings
crushed the life you sparked inside-
splinters too deep to pull.
I've never been a simple creature-
anxiously stirring in a silent house.
I want to tell you how I feel.
Compose it into a mellow tune
I want it to be soft and beautiful.
I hope we will meet under
the yellow kitchen light again.
But maybe,
you're gone forever.
Jan 20, 2017
Jan 20, 2017 at 3:43 PM UTC
I want to start over. I want to feel your eyes on mine. Feel like the moon connected to the tides.
Instead, you could slip through my fingertips at any second. A tide that never comes in once it goes out.
Honey only for my lips, and salt for an after taste. Loving you is a bittersweet thing.
Dec 18, 2016
Dec 18, 2016 at 3:25 PM UTC
With you, the ground felt solid
like I could pull myself from
this flooding basement, for good.
Skin drenched,
slippery shaking freezing skin.
You stretched your hands out,
held me till I grew warm.
The waves swelled
the surface grew rough.
With my finger tied to yours
you cut them loose,
left me to drown in myself.
How silly of me-
to think that I could flourish
in someone else's chest
when I can't stand
being trapped in my own.
Silly, silly, stupid girl.
You will always be alone.
Sep 21, 2016
Sep 21, 2016 at 7:36 PM UTC
Your bitter words make me
want to burn my tongue with tar.
It won't be these cigarettes that **** me-
but my family's words.
With your breath heavy from whiskey
you were never good after drinking a bottle.
Hot tears fall as you tell me to grow up.
I can't.
I keep
crushing my sunflowers in my palm.
Bleeding yellow and green earth
through white knuckles.
A gold that once littered our bedroom floor
between the articles of clothing.
I keep
praying for rain to quench the soil
but there's only deathly heat.
Apologies to the gods go unheard.
No one wants to listen to a girl crying
that her flowers are dead from the doing of her own hands.
Sep 17, 2016
Sep 17, 2016 at 9:36 PM UTC
We met between lipstick stained
beer bottles on the blue fabric sofa.
Struggling to hide the reasons for splinters and chapped lips,
fear slides over my tongue as I started to split open again.
Warning signs hang from her neck
of the broken heart clogging the kitchen sink,
he'll follow the footprints of others
through the broken glass without a glance. (Keep yourself safe)
But then, Saturday night in the dimly lit stairway,
you tell me to take my time,
not everyone is the same.
You would wait and prove it to me.
You kissed my scars and gave me band-aids
for the cuts, that hadn't quite healed yet.
It's been five months since I've felt like I'm drowning,
and you're the reason I can breathe again.
Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 7:31 PM UTC
Are your midnight property.
Curl your drunken palms
between her thighs
with no concern
that the heat inside is broken
and the pipes have been frozen.
Whisper to her
that her smile is genuine,
and that she is too cute
even though she doesn't try.
Then freely run your fingers
over the naked small of her back-
ignoring that she shivers
to the warmth of your touch.
At midnight,
she is nothing but a compost
of indecent pink lines
of those who have raked her back before.
Nov 22, 2015
Nov 22, 2015 at 8:12 AM UTC
We gather our bones and piece them together
in hopes that sleep will cast over us quicker.
Across the sheets of making noises-
a dance of silently lying to the other.
Swallow down the awkward conversation
with coffee questioned how I took it.
A handful of brown packets in attempt
to make this morning taste less bitter.
Oct 25, 2015
Oct 25, 2015 at 5:32 PM UTC
Someone align
the stars of my chest.
Help me know how
to get from point A to point B.
Put me out of the waiting motion sickness
lost in the midnight darkness-
I can’t find the way home
without your hands as the North Star.
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 12:29 PM UTC