I dance trembling hands across my keyboard
Typing the same meaningless chorus
But every time the backspace button
Plays the bass and
When I read it back
I can never seem to play it quite right
I type the words along to the beat of my metronome heart
Hoping one day my song will be good enough for you to hear
It sounds a lot like your moans
And mine flowing together in perfect harmony
But one note is always off
And it’s the sound of you leaving
Before we even make it to the bridge
I should have known that I was never your favorite genre
Feb 21, 2016
Feb 21, 2016 at 1:02 AM UTC
i find myself again
at the corner of
porcelain dreams
and pillowcase nightmares
blinking back tears like
***** flavored rain drops
thinking about you
and thinking about me
and thinking about us
and thinking about her
entering our world
with her hurricane eyes
blowing apart the home we built
inside each other’s hearts
the insurance company
denied our claim because
the home was built
on a week foundation
i’m running now
through fluorescent galleries
filled with our ultraviolet memories
but the ceiling is riddled with cracks
and every time i end up stuck in a room
with all our masterpieces burnt to ashes
you used to trace
the lines on my palm
like the words
of your favorite book
but the endings the same every time
she painted a prettier picture
of high definition sunsets
with her paintbrush eyelashes
i keep dreaming
one day you stop running
one day those cough syrup lungs
drain
and you remember
why the stories i told
were the soundtrack to
your cosmic life
but you don’t
you never do
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 12:49 PM UTC
limiting reactant: that’s you & that's me
both of us standing on a cliff,
neither of us jumping
is this chemistry worth the kind that will decompose our hearts at the bottom of the ocean
or the kind that burns my empty hands
ideal law: ideally, breaking it
you're in the driver's seat, wrist on the wheel
our pulses driving the car and pulsing in the floorboards
speed, velocity, distance,
the physical sciences
(my lipstick distracts you from the road)
balancing equations:
you: black flame, glistening furiously
me: god knows what i am but clear and soft
disaster: the explosion is all-consuming, a violent display of reactivity and fire
people stand in awe, wishing they could be destroyed by something so beautiful
Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 4:59 PM UTC
Thinking about it feels like a flickering neon sign
Hearing your name sounds like screeching tires on asphalt
Or my voice saying ‘please don’t’ over and over again
I’m not quite sure because sometimes I wonder if I actually said anything at all
Someone once told me that if you say a word over and over again it loses its meaning
I want to ask you if you do that with the word no
Closing my eyes at night feels like a scraping my knees on the sidewalk
Because I’m afraid that I’ll dream of the person I thought you were
I guess you never really know a person but I always thought I knew myself
So I hide my treasure chest of misfortunes under eyeliner and cigarettes
And scrape the ashes out from underneath my eyes long enough to say ‘I’m fine’
I wonder if I say it enough if it will lose meaning
k.b| wonder
Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 1:00 AM UTC
and here i am again
at the intersection
of pedestrian language
& old wives tales
swallowing gum
like 7 year memories
opening umbrellas inside
cause i can't seem get away
from all of this rain
i ********** with my left hand
cause i was told
back in highschool that
"it feels like someone else is doing it"
it gets me wondering
about the difference between
losing you and finding out
that some one else found you
or my sleep
or lack thereof
its starting to tear me apart
i keep having this dream
where you are in
an unfamiliar body of water
trying to wash my poetry
off of your hands
or the one where
something happens in my chest
every time you sit
on someone else's bed
i'm tired of feeling like something you've misplaced
but don't have the heart
to look for anymore
tired of you saying my name
like you're trying to bury it
i'm tired of wondering
if you can tell the difference
between the absence
of my voice & silence
the other day
i almost started sobbing
at work when a woman
asked me about
our equipment
i was explaining how
things come apart
and almost mentioned your name
it made me think
of how you used to say
things like "what would you do
if i showed up on your doorstep
one day?" now, i haunt
the windows in my house
i don't leave for weeks at a time
i sit on the porch like the dog
you didn't shoot behind the shed
the one that refuses to die
until you come home again
i told somebody once, that
you didn't even know
what my voicemail sounded like
i wonder if they thought
it was because you
are so important that i never
let it ring that many times
before picking up
or if you dont know
what it sounds like
because you've never called
you can't be the ****** weapon
and the search party
i'm tired of all the seats
to the ferris wheel in my chest
being empty
tired of your voice
being the one i look for
in abandoned places
that one sound i beg
to bounce back
down vacant hallways
i just seem to stand there
in all of that quiet
like someone looking for a mistake
on an eviction notice
so i guess the hardest part
isn't letting go
it's forgetting
you ever had a grip
in the first place
and since you've been gone
i wonder if when
you pushed yourself away from me
you used your left hand
so it felt like someone else did it
Jan 13, 2016
Jan 13, 2016 at 8:54 PM UTC
We killed the lights and found
the way to each other’s lips like magnets
who had been denied their center of gravity
for awhile. You stripped me down,
measured my sweet spots out in sugar spoons,
and savored me like a treat you hadn’t had
since you were a kid, all the nostalgia
landing on your tongue as you molded me
with your hands. My ribs pushed back then pulled
again, like bread, underneath the covers.
You whispered my name like a song
you can’t let yourself forget the words to.
I followed the map of your neck with my kisses,
retracing my steps as we danced in my bed
to the familiar sound of a tiny fan
and the TV turned down low, the light
making shadows on your cheeks as the screen
changed, my eyes dodging them just to capture
a clearer image of the face I dreamed
and dreamed of again. You know my body
like a monologue, writing me all the way through,
smiling at your favorite parts, and every time
I fall into this routine I hope that maybe
this ending is different, maybe you’ve decided
to rewrite the last page. Maybe I won’t have to look back
at our sour memories, maybe this time
we will leave the bookmark in the same spot
and kiss each other through all those times we said
it had been too long.
Jan 5, 2016
Jan 5, 2016 at 2:20 AM UTC
We stop at 7/11 so you can buy chapstick
But I watch through the window as the cashier hands you a pack of camels from the case behind him
You told me you quit smoking when you met me
Soon its 1 am and you’re leading me to your bed
We’re drunk giggles as you kiss me in the dark
And I try not to think about how it’s been three weeks since you kissed me in the daylight
I wake up with a knotted throat and a sting in my chest because I know you’re going to leave
But oh god,
I wish you would stay
k.b | thoughts from your bedroom
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 1:51 AM UTC
Last night I leaned on the back of my car and cried because change is hard. Life can so easily throw you a curve ball, it gives you something great then takes it away faster than you can blink. My eyes burned from the tears like my lungs burned from a long drag of a cigarette
I’m still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that at this time a few nights ago I was dancing with my best friends around a fire, but tonight I’m alone on a strangers couch. Trying to make since of it all is so exhausting. I’m still trying to figure out if I left my heart in all the empty bottles or if it’s somewhere in his bed from all the nights I spent with him.
I know I’ll find it somewhere but I think I’m searching for it in all the wrong places
I cried in the back seat of a boy’s car because I begged him to stop but the alcohol must have drowned his senses because the pain of my body becoming something meaningless again was a cry that he couldn’t hear. He asked me why I was crying and all I could say “nothing matters anymore”
He felt terrible, he apologized profusely and i watched as his crystal blue eyes glazed over with regret because of what he had done
even though his sorry’s were as sincere as could be I still felt a sting when he kissed me goodnight
I wish I could close my eyes and open them in San Francisco because maybe if I was on the other side of the country I wouldn’t have to see all the things that make me want to melt into a puddle of ice cold water
People always ask me “where is home?” I believe that home is in ourselves, our fireplaces in our rib cage and our bedrooms in our skulls, but right now I’m not even sure if I can call my own body home.
Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 11:40 PM UTC
Life has a funny way of working out
For example, I once won $100 on a scratch ticket and in the exact same hour a rock hit my windshield
It cost me $100 to replace it
When I met him
The universe was aligned
The stars hung themselves in constellations only we could see
We spoke a language all our own
And the razor blades that consistently sliced through my sanity became dull
Flowers grew from the cracks in my sidewalk
His voice was a song that I always wanted to listen to
With him by my side the world was a place that I was no longer afraid of
But life has a funny way of working itself out
Fear was like the Berlin Wall
Built overnight
Separating our hearts from ever beating together ever again
And I miss him
I miss him so much that I joined tinder
I miss him so much that I deleted tinder
I miss him so much that my recent ****** partners miss him
I miss him so much
that I'll look at pictures of deceased family members just to try and miss something that's actually gone
I miss him so much that I hide in the back corners of coffee shops and libraries just to be as invisible as he makes me feel
I miss him so much that I prayed to God to let me have him back
But even God was too busy to answer the phone
I wish I was a number on the clock so he would always have time for me
I wish I was a chapter in his text books so he would always have to study me
I wish I was the nicotine in his cigarettes so I could live in his resin lungs
But life has a funny way of working itself out
Nov 10, 2015
Nov 10, 2015 at 3:17 PM UTC
when i was in high school
i sat through class after class
learning things i didn't particularly care about
from skimming torn up copies of "Of Mice and Men"
to consistently failing every math test i ever took
i was a mess of glazed over eyes and too much makeup
staring at the clock waiting for the day to tick by
it would be fair to say that i absorbed little
to no information
but one day in science class
the teacher gave us a lesson on newtons laws
newtons third law of motion states that
for every action there is an equal an opposite reaction
that law made sense to me
until years later
when you told me you loved me
and i could not say it back
i remember being wrapped in your arms
the only place where the monsters inside my rib cage stopped trying to claw their way out
your words strong and brave like a pack of wolves on a hunt for my beating heart
i looked into your eyes and
saw a world of wonder that i would never get to explore
and i wonder if you saw an abandoned theme park with a no trespassing sign
when you looked into mine
you found beauty in me when everyone else
only saw the weeds sprouting from the cracks in my pavement
I was a burning house and you were a brave hero
running inside to save the children trapped in the attic
but it wasn't long until you realized that
you can not flip a person
in the same way that you can flip a house
when you replaced my windows
and the neighborhood kids threw bricks
through the glass
when you repainted my walls
that soon came crumbling down
your love was a quick fix that i knew would not last
newtons third law of motion states
that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction
that made sense to me
until a few years later
when i finally told you i loved you
and your response was
"but i don't love you"
Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 12:18 PM UTC