If this world were to ever turn red
Like ripe pomegranates or strawberry spread
You’ll feel the pull as I tug on this thread.
Let me scribble all over your balmy skin
With details about my soaking sins
Until you’re covered with my poison within.
Let me greet you with my ruby lips
I’m feeling feline, my teeth might nip
But there’s no knowing where my tongue might slip.
If this world were to ever turn red
Like opera curtains or a feverish head
We can put on a show in my backyard shed.
Let me document you in this space
You yearn for the power I make you chase
Camouflaged in feather, leather, and lace.
Let me guide your figure onto the floor
Then obey and get onto your fours
Fight with a devil and you’ll lose the war.
If this world were to ever turn red
--It’s really just a matter of when
There’s not a color I’d prefer instead.
Apr 11, 2020
Apr 11, 2020 at 1:44 AM UTC
Swerving in, I re-enter
A roundabout conversation
Driving mindless words
You make me flushed
It gives me a rush
As all of our cars
Scramble out of our garages
Directionless.
Jul 1, 2018
Jul 1, 2018 at 9:58 PM UTC
Salivating
Slide in
Sugar-searching serpent
You spark
In this ****
A naive mind
That this might
Work out
Before you
Tire out
Tonguing
Lemon-lime lollies
Licking your lips
For a confection
A bit more
Cherry
Jun 24, 2018
Jun 24, 2018 at 11:12 PM UTC
Walking in with high hopes
I knew that I’d fall
A cushioned landing waited below
Skin shreds with every reach, pull, and hang
Fingers bleed and sweaty palms
Slide and scrape against the rocks
The climb left me before I left the wall
With numbness in my hands and my toes,
But mostly my cheeks disfigured by nails
Pinning up a spastic smile
You had no belayer obligation
No rope tied on
My harness to your grip
A concrete landing waited below.
Jun 24, 2018
Jun 24, 2018 at 12:50 AM UTC
When I am at the peak of my span
These petals open, blossoming,
You step on my face and tell me
I am who you see
Through your cataractal lenses
THAT is me, who I am supposed to be
With my name stripped away,
And that a flower’s life is destined
For sitting still and smiling
For prying fingers to uproot
Its body from the earth
Then to rot in a broken vase.
Jun 23, 2018
Jun 23, 2018 at 10:06 PM UTC
Skin-deep,
I can tolerate you.
Flesh-deep,
You make me gag
but I’ll try not to *****
Open up your heart and soul and everything else,
All that leaks out is musty air.
Like a plastic ornament,
You dangle unsteadily
On the bristles of a Christmas tree
It is my tremor
From our exchanges
That will loosen your desperate cling
From my limp arms.
Jun 23, 2018
Jun 23, 2018 at 1:07 PM UTC
Bells call
Laughter rings
Gates open wide
No one in line
Welcome
To your entertainment
Choose a ride
Everything’s free
Seated on a painted horse
Mane chipped, buckle rusted
No warning given
The revolution begins
Up and down
Are you moving forward?
Ponies gallop ahead
You’re stuck at the end
Wait--
There’s no waiting
You tail
There’s no slowing
Until the day you’re free
Continue the monotony
Wake, work, eat, sleep
Follow the tune
In circles and circles and circles
Is this fun? Is this fun?
The same repetition
Over and over and over and--
STOP
The agony, the pain
The screams unheard
There’s no stopping
You can cry and beg
To debark and leave
It’s too bad
Exiting isn’t easy.
Jun 23, 2018
Jun 23, 2018 at 2:08 AM UTC
You don't want to be in my photos.
That’s fine, a thumbtack will stay in your place
You don't want to be in my videos.
That’s fine, I can trim, cut, edit
Until your shadow is completely erased
You don't want to be in my life.
Click
Drag
Delete
That’s fine with me.
Jun 22, 2018
Jun 22, 2018 at 11:40 PM UTC
You forget my name
I’ll say it, spell it out, write it down
Repeat that same two-syllable word
You’re quick to forget
Flowers are pretty little things
And all their names must blur together
For you, who cannot speak their language
Jun 22, 2018
Jun 22, 2018 at 5:27 PM UTC
Cello cords snap, slice, fresh
Wounds bloom next to old scabs
Rosy slits puncture through cotton gloves
With thread and time, they say
We’ll mend.
Intertwining blows face a silent war
Unwinded by a cannon salute.
Across the battlefield
Conductors pick up their batons
Holding ready
Waiting
For you to throw
The opening note
Waiting
For me to throw
The first Molotov
Shatters.
The trumpet hook screeches
A familiar overture blares
Confetti glass garnishes our drinks
Gasoline reek, whiskey aftertaste
A night of dancing dares.
We fall back
Into a bed of thorns
Composed by sleepless fights
We have not learned to knit or sew
Our petals dangle from the receptacle
Swaying to the chorus.
Jun 22, 2018
Jun 22, 2018 at 10:49 AM UTC
