Imagine your ice cold fingers
Like melting candle wax,
Seeping onto a window pane,
Waiting for the ever looming ******
Imagine a bed of flower thorns,
Digging into your skin.
Convince yourself it's normal,
Tell yourself to start again.
Wait patiently for the sound of the lark.
Wait quietly for the non-existent spark.
Tell all your friends and your ex lovers too,
Tell me what they think of you.
When morning is gone and night won't start,
Make yourself pull apart
From the demons inside your soul.
I won't follow them where they go.
If you cry before you wake,
Say one good prayer for goodness sake.
And if you die before you rise,
There's nothing left to do.
Nov 12, 2016
Nov 12, 2016 at 9:06 PM UTC
I am always here and never there,
So tired of the day to day.
I keep waiting for the moment we can jump on a train,
Like the ones I hear calling from my bedroom window.
I like to imagine they are going to far off distant lands,
But I doubt they'll go past Cincinnati.
I keep trying to make something beautiful out of something ugly
And I guess there's some sort of metaphor there.
Well when the train finally blows the whistle,
Tell me who still cares.
Sep 29, 2016
Sep 29, 2016 at 11:31 PM UTC
When I'm awake, I dream of pears.
I like to think of anjou pears because they remind me of the french word for jewels: bijoux.
I don't have a preference for red or green, I just dream of soft pears.
Aug 11, 2016
Aug 11, 2016 at 12:14 AM UTC
Speak to me in your honey suckle voice,
Eyes bright like blue lavender laid out to dry;
I want to be drenched in the stickiness of love.
Sticky like a fly trapped in a spider’s web
But unwilling to try to escape.
Croon to me in your apple cider voice,
Lips puckering at the tartness;
I want to be warmed up in the heat of love.
Hot like an egg frying on the pavement
Ready to be eaten with salt and pepper.
Aug 9, 2016
Aug 9, 2016 at 4:12 PM UTC
"Why do you think about death so much?" My mother says to me one evening as I eat a cobb salad.
My mother is imaginary.
In this dream, I come up with some funny rhetoric and she laughs a pearly laugh and suddenly I'm 12 again:
My childhood best friend snorts milk out of her nose and this makes her laugh more. I don't understand what's so funny.
Suddenly she stops and looks at me with doe eyes.
"Why do you think about death so much?"
May 26, 2016
May 26, 2016 at 1:09 AM UTC
Baby don’t cry
Momma says to me when the red and blue lights flash and she’s pulled away from me
Oreos at the table with the nice officer
Can’t remember if it’s a real memory, feels like it is
Baby don’t cry
Momma says with skinned knees so dry
Daddy pushes me on the swing so **** high
Why am I afraid of heights?
Baby don’t cry
Momma says as the black and white cat walks past
Promises of broken pieces being mended
Fingertips at my backside pressing in
Baby don’t cry
They all say with kind eyes and slight smiles
Baby don’t cry, you’re oh so strong
Can’t cry if you don’t even feel sad
Baby don’t cry
Momma says, slitting two lines into her wrist
This is how you show pain, not tears
Maybe I should try it myself.
Feb 24, 2016
Feb 24, 2016 at 10:33 AM UTC
My heart is protected by what God made Eve out of-
Before you, everything was dark until He brought me to you and said “Let there be light!”
Your eyes are so sparkling and radiant; God must have modeled the stars after them.
When your skin touches mine, a million synapses pulse with an electric current as if you are a long-lost memory waiting to be rekindled.
Our souls must have known each other behind pearly gates – I am certain of this when your hands clasp mine.
With you, the melody within my heart is more beautiful than any song sung by birds in the entirety of Creation.
Your voice is so sweet and praising; God himself cannot conduct the angel choirs to sound like you.
When you smile and laugh, I imagine grand golden bells that bellow out down the streets of Paris.
Our hearts beat to the same pattern and our lungs are consistent with each other – I am certain we were made for each other out of clay.
There is no after you, there is only the sound of your voice resonating in my ears long after you have finished speaking.
Jan 27, 2016
Jan 27, 2016 at 9:09 PM UTC
My hands, made of the same clay as you
When my fingers reach for yours,
Michelangelo could not paint anything as beautiful
My face is peeled and waxed
Who told you of the monsters in the dark?
Bodies of oceans spill out in the halls.
When the door closes, my insides collapse
Until you reappear to fix my foundation.
Jan 27, 2016
Jan 27, 2016 at 9:07 PM UTC
You are taking 6:30 train
AM or PM, you do not know
Another train passes, going the other way
You see someone, and realize it is your lover
He is going away and you don't know where.
You spend all morning fixing your hair
You've lost count of the time
Your hair will not lay flat
The red shoes sit by the door
They've only been worn once
The pie that you have been baking is done
The edges are burnt but the inside is still cold
Your crust has collapsed in the middle
The timer did not sound.
You did not see it fall apart.
Jan 22, 2016
Jan 22, 2016 at 6:52 PM UTC
A waitress takes the late night bus home,
Counts all the people on the bus but there are none.
She gets off five stops early to walk,
She hears nothing.
On the avenue a black cat chases a moth
But does not catch it.
A man throws a shoe at the cat,
Yells obscenities across the alley,
Then falls back asleep.
Jan 22, 2016
Jan 22, 2016 at 6:49 PM UTC