emily-beers
American
I like to think of words as string sometimes. Something that I can twist around my fingers, lay out into what ever shape I want, or as something to hold together everything I need to express. I like to think of poems as the results of the strings I drop, when I get distracted by something more mundane.
When you smile
Your teeth tell a story
Of never ending words
And endless punctuation.
When you smile,
I can smell your breath
Wreaking of every stale cigarette
And every stale memory
That has ever polluted your tongue
And that you continue to relive
And that stain every word
That you let spill
Recklessly
From what you call a mouth.
Every time you flash that
Maybelline painted smile
I pity what you were born with
Every time you smile,
I cant help but feel smug
My smile doesn’t stain my words
Betraying my secrets
My displayed sense of happiness is neither false
Nor does it stretch on forever
Like some bad Friday night
With a bad date
In a bad place
That you call “fun”.
My smile in not tainted
By a lifestyle the breeds regret
With all it’s unprotected endeavors.
But somehow
With all your flaws
Your inability to make a
Self preserving decision
You still remain victorious.
Over my honest to goodness
Absolute genuine attempts
At legitimacy.
Nov 18, 2011
Nov 18, 2011 at 10:33 AM UTC
October fell in early July,
And it shattered in the form of memories.
We drove to Tennessee
You 18, just graduated,
Your girlfriend, the same.
I was 13, naïve
We drove to Tennessee
And I say “we”
Because I wanted to be just like you.
We drove to Tennessee
With 3 CDs
For 2 days
And 2 of those were Queen.
“It was summer”
And thank God for the AC.
The cool air
Made my un-cool comments
More room temperature.
Your girlfriend
Who became you wife
And my best friend
Listened to me
And laughed
And nothing else mattered to me.
We drove to Tennessee
And when we got there
“hey hey” was the sound track of the moment.
We drove to Tennessee
And I can’t remember how long we stayed
Which room I slept in
But other things from that summer
Became “a part of me”.
The 4th of July
Cracked with Pyrotechnics
And pop cans
And beer bottles
And thunder
And soon we found our selves
“caught in the rain.”
You were both 18
Grown
Mature
And all of this was demonstrated
By a dancing, and galloping
Through puddles,
And sheets
And drops of rain
With all of the other teenagers who weren’t 13.
I stayed inside
Warm, dry, and miserable.
My youth displayed
By a can of sprite
Dry socks
And too much eyeliner.
You all started chanting,
As if God himself had asked you what you wanted.
“Keep it coming!”
And I went to bed early.
The next day
Just like the sky
Things became clear.
We 3 turned into
You 2
And I.
You two went off,
With all the other teenagers who weren’t 13,
And I stayed behind,
Played with the children,
And went “walking” by myself.
It was summer,
If not evident by the calendar
Then the heat gave it away.
The next next day
You 2 were still gone
And I was left to be pitied.
Sympathy snaked its way
Into my three blueberry pancakes
Made just for me.
Into the play station
Where I played out dated games
When others wanted the tv.
On to the receipts
Of the clothes,
The earrings,
The movie ticket
Bought just for me
And just like me
They had people trying to get rid of them.
We drove home from Tennessee
With 3 CDs
And 2 days
And 2 of those were Queen.
The other
October Fall’s “A Season In Hell”
Guess which we listened to?
Guess which I remember.
Nov 18, 2011
Nov 18, 2011 at 10:23 AM UTC
I remember when you first said my name.
It was like any other person saying it.
Except that
Which each passing time
It became more and more like a secret.
Something only you and I shared.
You would look at me,
In the eyes
Blue locked on blue
And say “Emily”.
And with each passing time,
Your mouth turned up more and more.
And then less and less.
I remember the last time you said my name.
It was like any other person saying it.
Except that
I had never wanted to be called anything else
More than I did in that moment.
Jul 25, 2011
Jul 25, 2011 at 9:26 PM UTC