some people think love grows old,
but i think
it's more like when your new pair of shoes gets broken in just right.
there's no longer any blisters on your heel,
or that awkward squeeze every time you take a step.
it's like you're walking on clouds,
the perfect fit.
and some people say love doesn't last,
but with you
it feels like a really good pair jeans.
the kind that you wear for years,
even though they get rips and tears
and,
when they can no longer be worn in public,
you keep them around for the house work
as long as you can.
there's always a reason for them to stick around.
and some people think love is a myth,
but i feel
like it's the bite in a cold winter breeze,
impossible to ignore,
and impossible to forget.
it's the lingering shiver that goes down your spine
when you're warm and cozy by the fireplace,
it wakes you up and keeps your heart beating.
and some people think love dies,
but i know
our love is everlasting.
like the smell that reminds you of home,
your nose always knows that's where the scent belongs,
bringing the most comfort with every hint of it in the air.
it's never forgotten,
even when it appears to be.
our love is all these things,
and maybe,
even,
more.
Feb 25, 2019
Feb 25, 2019 at 9:12 PM UTC
It feels like ants are crawling over my hands and removing the skin to carry back to their hill.
My eyes are like two cotton ***** dry and heavy.
There is a blockage in my throat like a python has curled up in a ball right at the back of my neck.
And now my torso is no longer connected to my legs,
they are two separate entities.
One scrambling around the room trying to find something to do
while the other half lays stuck in bed, too heavy to even lift a skeletal finger.
The ants have take away all the skin and muscle from my hands to build their nest.
But it's not enough so they make their way down my throat, past the python, to my stomach, where they begin devouring me from the inside out.
Once all that’s left is a graveyard of bones,
the ants move along,
onto the next source for their ever-growing hill.
My skeleton is left to the elements,
well as much of the elements it can be exposed to laying in a pile of sheets and comforter.
I shed one last tear from my eye socket even though there are no tear ducts left for me to use.
My soul fades completely from the scene as the last straggling ant jumps from my skull and the python abandons the vertebrae left behind, needing a new food source to thrive.
A sad sack of bones,
what’s left of me lays in the bed as everything around it falls apart year after year.
Until all the decay is over and the process of rebirth begins.
Saplings shoot up through my ribcage
and flowers grow through the eye sockets where my tears used to fall silently.
Beauty replaces the feelings of death and dread as
the last piece of my soul is finally laid to rest.
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 11:16 PM UTC
there's a ring of fire in your eyes
that sets me alight,
leaving me yearning for the next moment that they meet mine.
and your hands roll over the hills on my skin,
creating a flat earth beneath your palms,
one you tread lightly across like it's new fallen snow.
and as the sun from your smile melts it all away,
you begin to plant flowers across the newly warmed earth,
gently allowing them to find their homes in places of safety.
they bloom quickly,
creating a trail of lavender & rose to the core of my being.
as time passes and the sunshine fades to moonlight
they thrive,
seeming to glow in the dark,
before beginning their unwanted wilt.
and as the snow falls again,
i will wait for the sun to shine bright
the next time your fire eyes meet mine.
Aug 4, 2018
Aug 4, 2018 at 10:26 PM UTC
teenage dreams begin in the backseat.
fantasy and reality colliding among the crumbs pressed into seams.
frantic fingers roam the skin of the angel
who has given up her body for the sake of gratification,
and lips linger in the purple hues that ruin porcelain skin.
the capsule containing the burst of pleasure disappears the deeper they fall,
and eyes glaze over,
windows following suit as the world outside is lost to the fog.
moments of clarity intrude,
letting sounds of joyful times slip through.
intense heat swoops back in to suffocate the joy
and reminds them
rouged cheeks await his lit eyes.
passion follows them through their journey across the sea of the backseat,
guiding them to their final destination of a complete release.
Jan 22, 2018
Jan 22, 2018 at 7:23 PM UTC
my walls are built tall and strong
from the previous glass shards of my many broken hearts,
melted together to form one strong shield,
i cannot let anyone as close as them.
and as this portrait of a man lingers by my side
i feel my walls fortifying.
and i know this harmless painting has been deemed
a weapon of mass destruction,
something so deadly that once it has infected my system
there can be no escape,
only a slow and painful loss of the air in my lungs
as my heart begins to crack and ultimately shatters far beyond repair,
the shards too small
to add to my wall protecting me from the poison of humankind.
love
is not worth the pain to me anymore.
Dec 18, 2017
Dec 18, 2017 at 10:02 AM UTC
he spoke his words like they cut his tongue and burned his heart.
his truth was found in the places that he avoided
and he could not face his mind when it would return from its forbidden forests.
stuck,
he was left to burst into shadows while his soul was consumed
by the evil of dead days.
spiraling words of hurt from mouths that he no longer kissed
caressed his ears from the grave.
he felt as if he was the lone portrait on a long stretch of white wall with no admirers to be seen.
alone,
as far as he could see.
Dec 7, 2017
Dec 7, 2017 at 3:57 PM UTC
lurking in the dark,
i sit and watch him from my secret hole by his side,
even though he claims to be a piece of trash that deserves
the look of a blind eye.
i cannot help the way the shape of his face
causes the fire in the pit of my stomach to roar,
or how his tragic words
slip and slide into the depths of my mind,
losing themselves to the maze so that they may never leave.
he has found his place in the world
among the things i hold close to my heart,
and he may not realize
what he has done,
but he will always find his way to me now.
Dec 5, 2017
Dec 5, 2017 at 10:11 PM UTC
just the other day my mother asked me why i don’t write Happy Things.
i couldn’t produced the words from my tongue to explain that happiness is a firefly hovering just out of reach,
how it sometimes dips
just low enough for my fingertips
to brush its wings
before it soars above my head once again.
i couldn’t figure out how to make her understand that most of my time is spent with my head surrounded by darkness, so that the “happy” moments only appear to be a grey light.
my brain functions at a baseline of a light drizzle and a slight chill spent alone,
where happy can't live because of the possibility of catching the sad.
she wouldn’t believe me when i said that i can’t write Happy Things because i need to drain them of their nectar while their light is still in front of me.
i cannot afford to write Happy Things because then i would never have the chance to experience them as close to fullness as I can.
happy doesn’t linger the way depression can.
Nov 22, 2017
Nov 22, 2017 at 11:39 PM UTC
the crunch of leaves beneath my feet
and the smell as they burn
return me to the land that was my home.
eyes closed so i can see the past
as it tries to escape from my fingertips.
and i can no longer tell what is real from what is remembered.
i see my brother running in front of me,
turning back so that his vibrant gold eyes catch the light just so
and i am there with him.
my youth is the only thing that is real to me in that moment,
the laughter,
the crisp cool air
biting at my cheeks and leaving them rouged,
a smile staking its claim on my lips for the moment.
it all kept me sane.
and as the image fades, i am brought back down to earth.
the somber tones of grey surround me as my brother’s gold fades away
and i am left with no more happiness.
the blood leaves my cheeks as my lips shrivel up into a hard pressed line.
the air has gone warm and heavy
as my lungs begin to strain to get the oxygen without drowning.
childhood fun has turned to the dark days of adulthood and i do not know how to live this life anymore.
when innocence and ignorance are gone you are left with reality,
and I’m not quite sure how to live with that.
Nov 14, 2017
Nov 14, 2017 at 11:18 AM UTC
Shove me down your throat
swallow me whole
so that I may escape
this carousel traveling at lightning speed.
Aug 30, 2017
Aug 30, 2017 at 7:47 AM UTC