No one ever taught you that failure was ok, that’s why you stare at an empty page day after day;
hoping to create something someone will accept.
No one ever told you that you didn’t have to earn his affection,
that’s why you text him back to back,
correcting your “mistakes” from the days before when he didn’t reply; telling yourself you’re too much that’s why he hates you,
but still doing more than he will ever deserve.
No one ever told you that love and art isn’t ever perfect,
that’s why you’ve thrown away your journals and your sketchbooks,
that’s why you block him even though he says he wants you too.
You’ll just never understand any of it and why it just can’t be... what it’s all “supposed” to be
Dec 29, 2019
Dec 29, 2019 at 3:23 AM UTC
It's said that it takes seven years for your body to replace its cells.
Memories die.
They wither away;
become unexplained hints of familiarity in a stranger's face.
Scars are replaced by renewed skin. Bruises disappear, erased as though by magic.
My body is a eulogy for your touch.
You were a merciless lover. You scratched your name into my skin. Your teethmarks are still imprinted on my tongue. The bruises, around my throat.
"Here lies he who commands my breath".
My lungs are still learning to forgive you. My muscles are still learning to forget you.
It's been four months and two weeks. I can feel the ghost of you restless, haunting my flesh. It wails at night and I still cry myself to sleep,
longing for dead things to remain dead.
Jan 24, 2018
Jan 24, 2018 at 5:43 PM UTC
She devours him; she tears at his flesh. The pieces of him that remain she wears on her chest. She sharpens his bones into spears and wears his teeth around her neck like her mother's pearls.
She is unforgiving and unforgettable; she belongs to no one and everyone all at once. She claims the sun and the sea. She owns the earth and her slaughtered lovers beneath it.
And in her stillness; in the quiet moonlit nights, she revels in the loneliness; in the mix of being both loved and feared.
Jan 2, 2018
Jan 2, 2018 at 7:31 PM UTC
you smell of whiskey and smoke
your hands are stained with black ink
you forget the simplest things
you're a terrible dancer
you're afraid of nothing and everything all at once
I can tell when you're lying, you always hesitate
you get angry too quickly; it scares me but never because I'm afraid you'd hurt me
you chew loudly
you are wild and unrepentant
your laughter is filled with sincerity
your jokes are always cheesy
you never fail to make me smile
you have made me cry
you make me worry
you're full of courage and whiskey.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
Oct 30, 2017
Oct 30, 2017 at 8:19 PM UTC
I heard it in your voice that you didn't mean it when you told me you love me.
Sep 19, 2017
Sep 19, 2017 at 4:36 PM UTC
She wears a red dress and is made of mystery.
You'll swear you never see her out the corner of your eye; you'll never hear her whisper as she walks past.
She'll appear to you in the simplest of ways.
A crooked smile; laughter carried over a crowded bus terminal.
Restless fingers tapping against the steering wheel of a not-so-strange stranger's car.
She's subtle in her way.
She makes time stand still with her beauty on display,
and you're afraid that if you look at her too long you'll fall in love with her.
You're afraid because you know loving her would mean sacrifice.
She demands that you love without sight; and sense.
So you'll cut out your tongue and pluck out your eyes.
She'll build a home in your chest;
She'll empty the graves, the ones you buried your lovers in,
in the cemetery behind your ribcage.
She'll dig them out.
She'll leave them on display.
She'll paint their faces to hide the rot; she'll stretch their lips into familiar smiles that resemble adoration.
She'll guide their hands to caress your bones,
And you'll find yourself loving the company.
You'll find that you've fallen in love with what is dead.
Sep 5, 2017
Sep 5, 2017 at 12:09 AM UTC
You were such a selfish lover.
You demanded that I give you time and I stopped the clock for you.
You asked for my dreams and I got lost in sleep for you.
You told me to speak less and I sewed my lips shut for you.
You said I should try harder and I broke sweat for you.
I gave my back as bridge, my knees bruised, my throat sore, my hands ****** from all the demons you had me slaughter for you.
I gave you everything and you left me,
claiming it wasn't enough.
Sep 1, 2017
Sep 1, 2017 at 5:39 PM UTC
I used to think about ******* boys in open pastures
Clothes tangled on our bodies
Thin ******* down to the mid of quivering thighs and feverish hands pushing down against the yielding earth.
I used to think that maybe that was what being alive was
Intermingling *** and adventure in the sun
Watering the earth with the drippings of some wild, summer-heat driven clashing of sticky skin
I remember wondering what flowers grow from sweat and *****
Years later, I made love to a sun kissed boy on the banks of a river
We were wild, passionate, fearless.
Never had I tasted anything so sweet as the sweat dripping onto our lips
I forgot about ******* boys in pastures
I began making love to a boy on the water
Then I realized that sweat and ***** grow passionate wildflowers.
May 2, 2017
May 2, 2017 at 7:48 PM UTC
comes in a text that says,
"I'll miss you every second. I love you. Goodbye."
instead of a final kiss.
Jan 29, 2017
Jan 29, 2017 at 7:37 PM UTC
In my dreams,
I know the feel of your lips on my neck better than anything else.
I know how tight you hold me when the night is cold and the wind is unsettling.
I know the sound of your laughter when it's in the other room and how loudly you sing in the shower.
I know exactly how rough your hands are from moving earth around in the garden.
I know how cold your feet are against mine;
how your hand fits perfectly into my lower back;
how your head feels resting on my inner left thigh.
I know every inch of you,
only in my dreams.
Oct 23, 2016
Oct 23, 2016 at 9:30 PM UTC