I read about a certain type of bird.
Its nest is made from only what it finds beautiful.
If I were that bird
My nest would be sturdy and abundant, in beautiful.
My nest is a strong cup of coffee
Built on a foundation
of the heavy air that fills the space between our hands
It's framework is unmatched eyeliner, and forehead kisses
A facade of slow wedding songs
patched with wet puppy noses
wallpaper made of love notes and lollipops
furnaced with cold winter nights we spend together
And I'd share it with the most beautiful thing
you
when the ceiling caves and the walls collapse
I'll keep you next to me
and the beauty will never fade.
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 10:50 PM UTC
I've never seen such an explosion
and to come out of a person
it knocked me over.
but me? you.
you were white knuckled
with fist swinging
even your screams were swinging
I think each time you inhaled
a train pushed you over
but maybe it was just the bully
that made you skin your knees
or the pain of your goldfish
that jumped too high
yes, even fish commit suicide
did you get one too many paper-cuts?
because i still cant figure out
what pushes men off of cliffs
Jun 4, 2013
Jun 4, 2013 at 12:03 PM UTC
I waited years for those headlights
I thought I saw them once
But they never truly came.
Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 9:09 PM UTC
he fixes cars
knows God
plays guitar
and sings me lullabies
he is mine
he is mine
he is mine
now I'm a wonder too
Jul 21, 2012
Jul 21, 2012 at 8:04 AM UTC
my back has been printed
with the soft pressure of your finger tips
my smile is now crooked
to accommodate your kisses
my cheek bones are filled
with a new feeling I just can't describe
my mind is filled with the wonder
if I've changed the tension of your skin
have I made you feel
just a little less hollow
do you yearn to carry yourself like a prince,
from the books you read to your kid brother
have we been rebuilt new
just for each other
why is it everything I do
feels different, and beautiful
I'm always the person that falls
who would've guessed it would be in love
Apr 18, 2012
Apr 18, 2012 at 7:21 PM UTC
To kiss
Definition:
Touch with the lips as a sign of love, ****** desire, or reverence.
Our kisses
are much less:
they're the marks of a coward, they're a breadcrumb trail of a fake.
Our kisses
are nothing more
than the simple action of lips on lips. Osculation. A contact without feeling.
Feb 25, 2012
Feb 25, 2012 at 10:31 PM UTC
I can become an armadillo any minute.
Every negative I see is one more inch of my spine that curves into a ball.
I can put up a sectioned yet rough exterior
But if you take a jab a just the right crack of me.
I become nothing more than water and dust.
A fragile flesh your predator mind can tear apart.
Sep 16, 2011
Sep 16, 2011 at 11:20 PM UTC
Hundreds of tiny people sit behind their perfect shutter speeds trying to capture love
I guess it could be easy.
A held hand here. A forehead kiss there. Maybe an engagement band or two.
Maybe if you captured a swoony eyed gaze.
That's love, right?
That's love?
That's what a 14 yearold girl makes the wallpaper on her disposable cell phone.
The same one she uses to plan her disposable relationships.
Anyone can capture that.
What about like?
Have you ever seen a photo of the nervous silent smiles, after a simple conversation?
Where's the picture of movie theather wishful yet sweaty unheld hands?
What exposure would be best for the simpleness of sharing a soda?
I dont know, but I'd sure like to see.
Sep 14, 2011
Sep 14, 2011 at 9:42 PM UTC
you’re the poem I could never write
staying up late, crossing out lines
replacing the hopeful words with disconsolate ones
closing my book, only to return to that page
reading through the lines that made me happy
and mixing in ones that evoke anger
it flows sweet off the tounge with perfect nostalgia and the right rhyme of bitterness
but it’s unfinished, dwelling in it’s uncertain psyche
waiting for more lines to be be added, just so they can be put out of date.
Aug 11, 2011
Aug 11, 2011 at 6:42 PM UTC