take me for a broken porcelain mug,
used one too many times,
used because every other glass was gone,
stained with coffee left cold for too long.
pieces and parts chipped away
they cut corners of your lips
and fingertips.
perhaps i was like this when you took me home,
perhaps you didn't notice,
perhaps i didn't either.
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 4:15 PM UTC
the howling winds snap whips in my face
and i wish i'd taken the train back to yours
its cold
its cold
its cold
all of his rain-checks and missed calls are getting old
i cant use nails to pick the locks on broken doors
its getting old
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 6:29 PM UTC
i've never felt so weak in the knees over someone who couldn't stay
i asked myself
what was stopping you from anchoring yourself to me
the moldering wood who could never keep us afloat
the winds, so spirited and sudden,
would tear us in two.
but it would be a privileged to see is my last breath in you.
Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 10:56 PM UTC
i am as constant as an open door,
twice broken down,
no lock to shelter the life i've raised
i am a harbour of selfish psyches,
who write lyrics on my walls
and sleep in tiled stalls,
drunk,
on the promise of an eternal home.
i am a church of unbelievers,
idly bowing their heads
to no statue in particular,
the low hum of an absent mind,
dried up of answers.
i leave them blind.
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 1:23 AM UTC
i've seen the wings of coughing angels,
bent, snapped off between fingers,
like wishbones.
i've blanketed them with burlap rags
of red and blue, so neatly stitched,
only to discover they were
bewitched
by men on ships.
and with death on his lips,
he laughed
at their ****** backs and spotted foreheads.
and he never bothered
to cover his tracks,
when sneaking into their beds.
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 12:57 AM UTC
I didn't care to lose it,
it was a paperweight to me.
And i was lifted into different corners of possibilities as i was freed,
I was no longer caged in the idea
that I was young or naive,
that no one could know me.
And still no one knows me,
for I'm not just my body.
My soul;
it's own entity.
And though I curve towards you,
I know your warmth,
and I shiver
under your chest,
You are no different
than the rest.
Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 2:59 AM UTC
How could we look the other way?
As each petal,
from the top of your head,
wrinkled and brown,
feathered to the floor.
Your stem legs,
kissing the sun,
like it was lost behind the sea for years.
We were pioneers
of our bodies,
and I saw it before you;
the willingness to fall,
when it turned to dusk.
And in the winter of our lives, so unforgiving,
like a knife, twisted slow,
you slept under the snow.
Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 2:12 AM UTC
all the magic mushrooms and popped pills
all the heart-racing clubs, and sunsets,
laying on dew, high,
seeking out foreign planets.
never amounts to anything.
for any substance
or celestial body
trying to satisfy my soul,
couldn't bring me closer to you.
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 4:06 PM UTC
i should have jumped
they tried to push me over the
edge but I
pulled the thistles that broke through
the desert cracks
and clung to them like a starving child
to a mother
I was starving too.
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 2:00 PM UTC
the hardest thing in waking up
is forgiving who you are
forgetting what you're not
and putting to rest your dreams
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 2:49 PM UTC