kylepowers - Hello Poetry

Her press on nails graced her sunken in cheek Tracing the bone that seemed to cut like glass Remembering days of endless driving Her high heels out the window The sun whispered sweet nothings But no one knew how personal those were And here she is At the vanity of a ****** motel Dusting powder across lesions that spattered her skin ****** patches on her skin Just like holes in her skin She cries Removing the brown wig that she tossed for years Brushing it in her hands The tears held on as if they didn’t want to let go Standing She slips off her briefs Gazing into the mirror Horrified at the person staring back at her Invisible bones now visible Crevices and cavities too deep Webs of veins that were colored too brightly Wearing the anatomy of a man that was no longer there A body not worth surgery Wiping sweat off her forehead Smearing her drawn on eyebrows All she can hear is “Your mother and I gave birth to a son named Raymond. What happened?” That name echoed in her head Drawing pleads from her ears She collapsed Her thighs bruised from one too many needle-pricks Tracing each hole with her finger As if to draw out an answer She A forgotten woman Who only tried to cope Her t-shirts were too big “Raymond, Your T-Cell count is too low” A forgotten woman Who only tried to cope “Is this ‘cause you’re a ****** Raymond?” A forgotten woman Who only tried to cope “Raymond, there is no cure for AIDS” She wept Mascara staining her pale face Press on nails clutching her arms Hugging herself Because no one else was would Rayon died alone She was no longer forced to love from an infected vessel To hurt from a torn home To pray on laced knees This hotel room became a mausoleum Smelling of death and perfume Rayon was a forgotten woman Who only needed to cope But exiled by a community of people For loving too much

0

Apr 9, 2014

Apr 9, 2014 at 11:46 PM UTC

kylepowers

Rayon

Her press on nails graced her sunken in cheek Tracing the bone that seemed to cut like glass Remembering days of endless driving Her high heels out the window The sun whispered sweet nothings But no one knew how personal those were And here she is At the vanity of a ****** motel Dusting powder across lesions that spattered her skin ****** patches on her skin Just like holes in her skin She cries Removing the brown wig that she tossed for years Brushing it in her hands The tears held on as if they didn’t want to let go Standing She slips off her briefs Gazing into the mirror Horrified at the person staring back at her Invisible bones now visible Crevices and cavities too deep Webs of veins that were colored too brightly Wearing the anatomy of a man that was no longer there A body not worth surgery Wiping sweat off her forehead Smearing her drawn on eyebrows All she can hear is “Your mother and I gave birth to a son named Raymond. What happened?” That name echoed in her head Drawing pleads from her ears She collapsed Her thighs bruised from one too many needle-pricks Tracing each hole with her finger As if to draw out an answer She A forgotten woman Who only tried to cope Her t-shirts were too big “Raymond, Your T-Cell count is too low” A forgotten woman Who only tried to cope “Is this ‘cause you’re a ****** Raymond?” A forgotten woman Who only tried to cope “Raymond, there is no cure for AIDS” She wept Mascara staining her pale face Press on nails clutching her arms Hugging herself Because no one else was would Rayon died alone She was no longer forced to love from an infected vessel To hurt from a torn home To pray on laced knees This hotel room became a mausoleum Smelling of death and perfume Rayon was a forgotten woman Who only needed to cope But exiled by a community of people For loving too much

61

when i think about you i think about how my heart tried to hit the brakes throw my anatomy into neutral calm contained but you crashed me into a meadow where dandelions rest upon my collarbones and roses grow inside my atria i think about how i would use the ash from your cigarette and trace the veins on your arms trying to make a map so i’d never go off track so my fingers could run marathons on your ribs so my fingers could tie your heartstrings in knots in hopes the feeling would never leave i think about how when you say you love me my mind grows heavy with ‘what-ifs’ ‘for how long’ and ‘what about him’ but when i look into your eyes and i see us diving in and out of your aqueous humor ripping the retina from the walls and making our own colors i know who i am i know who i need to be i think about how making love with you turns my body into a wave frequency high enough to shatter the chandeliers the chandeliers that reflect you back to me the chandeliers that sway with each breath we take when i think about you i think about the best parts of this world the love and the hope and how i wish to experience all of these with you hand in hand driving past the meadow refusing to step on the brakes

0

Apr 9, 2014

Apr 9, 2014 at 11:42 PM UTC

kylepowers

620

when i think about you i think about how my heart tried to hit the brakes throw my anatomy into neutral calm contained but you crashed me into a meadow where dandelions rest upon my collarbones and roses grow inside my atria i think about how i would use the ash from your cigarette and trace the veins on your arms trying to make a map so i’d never go off track so my fingers could run marathons on your ribs so my fingers could tie your heartstrings in knots in hopes the feeling would never leave i think about how when you say you love me my mind grows heavy with ‘what-ifs’ ‘for how long’ and ‘what about him’ but when i look into your eyes and i see us diving in and out of your aqueous humor ripping the retina from the walls and making our own colors i know who i am i know who i need to be i think about how making love with you turns my body into a wave frequency high enough to shatter the chandeliers the chandeliers that reflect you back to me the chandeliers that sway with each breath we take when i think about you i think about the best parts of this world the love and the hope and how i wish to experience all of these with you hand in hand driving past the meadow refusing to step on the brakes

38

my knees are stained dyed from soil scratched with thorns graves of those who went too soon babies whose cradles became caskets fathers and mothers who smoked one too many cigarettes no one thought that little boy’s nightlight would become so literal /when did life become this/ with chains made of dead flowers dust covering my eyelashes these people are no longer able to simply be and that can’t come from god the moonlight pierces my skin with its sharp crescent the stars slicing my pride i lay down on this grave allowing god to see the worn vessel traveled too much made too many mistakes mistakes that shouldn’t have happened mistakes i tell people didn’t happen malignancy but im still here in the ******* cemetery shoving my hands into the dirt coating my nails with blood and death hoping ill eventually find a heartbeat and when i don’t i look up to the sky make a noose out of galactic chains hoping the interstellar sacrifice will be right all those wronged because that cant come from god right?

0

Apr 9, 2014

Apr 9, 2014 at 11:40 PM UTC

kylepowers

cemetaria

my knees are stained dyed from soil scratched with thorns graves of those who went too soon babies whose cradles became caskets fathers and mothers who smoked one too many cigarettes no one thought that little boy’s nightlight would become so literal /when did life become this/ with chains made of dead flowers dust covering my eyelashes these people are no longer able to simply be and that can’t come from god the moonlight pierces my skin with its sharp crescent the stars slicing my pride i lay down on this grave allowing god to see the worn vessel traveled too much made too many mistakes mistakes that shouldn’t have happened mistakes i tell people didn’t happen malignancy but im still here in the ******* cemetery shoving my hands into the dirt coating my nails with blood and death hoping ill eventually find a heartbeat and when i don’t i look up to the sky make a noose out of galactic chains hoping the interstellar sacrifice will be right all those wronged because that cant come from god right?

32