here are my little daily deaths:
a careful cut on the wrist,
cigarette burn marks and
scraped knuckles,
leaving messages unread,
losing and forgetting
the importance of things,
the look in my mother’s eyes
right before i start to tear
this body apart
as if it’s some
worn down structure
too shaky to house
anything other than good intentions
(these are careful, practiced things)
the only way to stay present
is to stay up late for sins
i know i’ll regret in the morning
so i practice shrinking to radio static;
fade into the white noise
of school year loneliness.
i practice keeping still,
holding my breath
for hours at a time
before eventually,
still crackling,
i settle back into my skin
Feb 12, 2017
Feb 12, 2017 at 9:08 AM UTC
he’s gone (on a long walk)
but don’t worry –
any minute now
he will come running
pitter-patter of little paws
around the corner
down the street
into the house
and into my arms
and i will say: welcome home puppy, baby, dog
i still have his tiny yellow shoes
and the water bowl
was gathering dust
but i’ve replaced it
for when he gets tired
(and he will get tired)
finding his way back home from
some kind of imaginary heaven
where lost dogs go
Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 8:14 AM UTC
you tell yourself "it's okay to be sad"
but you still cry yourself to sleep
every night
your hands still shake
because there's no one there to hold them
and you say sadness is a cliche
that everyone feels is unique to them
but that's the thing -
nobody wants to deal
with tired hearts
and shaking hands
at three in the morning
the world does not drop dead
when you do
Feb 21, 2016
Feb 21, 2016 at 10:30 AM UTC
you don’t need to tell me you don’t love me
for me to know
you were never the fairy tale
i’d made you out to be
and I don’t need to hear
about me versus the princess you’ve always wanted
when it’s a story i know
by heart
Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 10:12 AM UTC
once you said
you liked the fire
in her eyes
and the way her hair
shines golden
like in the movies
thought it was
beautiful
so i tried to make myself
a little less
made of glass
and a little more
of gold
doused myself
in gasoline
thought it would
make me beautiful
but all i did was
burn
Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 3:56 AM UTC
i would write you
a love letter
but i don’t know how
maybe i could start
with something cliché,
like ‘Dear you,’
and then I’d talk about
how your eyes gather sunlight
in the day
and shine golden
at night
but i was never
good with words
or maybe i could make you
a mixtape
and leave it
on your front door
there aren’t enough songs
about tuesday afternoons
and cuddles on the
kitchen floor
to get things
off the ground
so let me write you
a poem instead
a poem that rhymes
and the taste of
your strawberry lip gloss
the sound of
your name
but it wouldn’t make sense
anyway,
some are artists
( not me )
and some people
are art themselves
and my favorite poem
is you
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 10:34 AM UTC
you’d think from a girl
so easy to say
“it’s going to be alright”
that’s she’d be
less faded
and that her eyes
so used to smiling
could never have been
empty
so who would’ve thought?
that she’d hang herself
in the inky blackness
that covers the sky
when everyone else
was asleep?
who would’ve thought
May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 10:56 PM UTC
typical nights in cities
of chrome and neon lighting
crowds of people
uninterested glances --
crude conversations
between boys with impish grins
and hollow girls
the words – “let me buy you
a drink”
eagerly going through
the motions
despite the implication of
sweaty palms, open mouths
awkward fumbling
in the dark
an empty bed
on a saturday morning
May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 9:10 AM UTC
let’s not pretend
that nothing was ever
between us
it gets a bit
old, sometimes
i know
you’re never as busy
as you make yourself
out to be
i should know
honestly –
does it make
a difference
whether we pretend
the other
exists?
May 2, 2015
May 2, 2015 at 7:21 AM UTC
you have no idea
how much you had meant to me
how I thought of you
like you hung up the stars
in the sky
each night
how I thought
it would be still you and i
in the end
as if that was ever the case
you have no idea
how much of myself
i lost in you
had no idea
what was at stake
how my eyes wandered over
to where you were
in any room
you have no idea
what I felt for you,
long-gone,
you should know
and maybe someday
when you’re over it
you could find the time to
smile, maybe even
say hi
and maybe someday
when I feel like it
i could find the time to
say hi and
introduce you to a boy
who means to me
more than the stars
hung up in the sky
each night
Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 7:17 AM UTC