When did you learn to sting?
When did you
decide your resentment
held you tighter
at night
than when I did?
When?
Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 5:14 PM UTC
I built a home for you beneath my chest plate,
A creaky little house, but sturdy nonetheless,
With the strongest walls my shaking hands could build,
With plenty of windows for sunlight and chilly autumn winds,
And smooth, cedar wood floors for dancing barefoot,
Then you brought a storm the walls couldn't bear,
That shattered the windows and split the floors,
In my chest, the little house collapsed and tore through me,
The flood came and now I'm building walls instead of little houses.
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 11:15 PM UTC
I want to introduce you to my parents. I want to take black and white polaroids of your hands and hang them on my bedroom walls so when you leave me for a funnier, slimmer, better version of me I can remember a time when those hands brought out the best parts of my worst. I want to kiss you, hard. On the mouth. Soft, on your nose. Violently, passionately, like a hurricane I want to leave marks to remind you I was here. I want to tell you about my day. How many coffees I drank, how many cigarettes I tried to leave unlit, the way I forgot to think about anything else but your laugh. I want to make you eggs in the morning and listen to that ****** indie music we love (If you don’t like eggs I’ll make you stacks of chocolate chip pancakes and you can be reading if you don’t like music in the morning.) I hope we run into each other at a coffee shop, at the library, on the street and shyly smile, knowing this is it.
Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 1:11 AM UTC
And that night, we laid half-drunk
in our friend's mother's bed
I, in my trousers
You, in your shorts
We whispered softly
and I held you close
I gripped your hand
and you cradled my heart
I said "If this is the only thing
that will ever happen between us,
I'll still be happy"
We fell asleep and awoke
three hours later; the next morning
I took you out for pancakes and we sat in silence
and you acted as if nothing ever happened.
Apr 19, 2014
Apr 19, 2014 at 8:33 PM UTC
Pass me the raindrops you've caught on your tongue,
I don't want the placidity of the lakeside water
I don't want the sluggishness of the drifting snowflakes
I don't want the steadyness of the flowing river;
Give me the ones that didn't hit the sidewalk
Give me the ones that the blades of grass didn't drink
Give me the ones that didn't roll off the rooftop,
Pass me the raindrops you've caught on your tongue.
Mar 9, 2014
Mar 9, 2014 at 9:10 PM UTC
I cut my finger
You came spilling out of me
Until my heart stopped
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 4:56 AM UTC
Let's lay a blanket down on my front yard,
And look up at the constellations while drunk,
We'll hold hands to keep each other steady,
As the world spins madly around us in a blur.
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 7:58 PM UTC
You breathe on the glass and I can no longer see you clearly,
But at least this tells me your breath is still warm;
That you're alive and well,
So I think I'll be okay for now.
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 7:53 PM UTC
You mustn't panic
The wolves do tire as well
You must outrun them
Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 11:53 PM UTC
I want the oil of your fingertips
to be infused in my skin,
I'd like to discover strands of your hair
tangled in my clothes,
I want the taste of your sweet skin
to soak into my dry tongue,
I'd like-after a long night-for your scent
to stain every hair on my head,
I wish for you to always be a part of me in all the smallest ways possible.
Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 6:20 AM UTC