i met a boy
who’s demons you could see
dancing down hallways.
he sang with the birds in the citrus trees.
music dripped from him like blood from his flesh.
there’s some red flags,
but many more green.
250220//a.r.
Feb 25, 2020
Feb 25, 2020 at 5:07 PM UTC
“nov. 2017”
silence is loud
silence is hearing nothing but
the crickets
and a heart pumping blood.
abandonment
is coming home to the same unwashed dishes
and the same baron bookshelf
and the same
silence.
regret is looking at an empty staircase
and recalling every yell and sob it has seen.
disappointment is a cage,
a cell,
a young boy calling for help.
a tall boy trapped in hell.
a kind boy stuck inside himself.
Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 4:46 AM UTC
“dreams: four nineteen a.m.”
naked bodies dance
to music we made in his
soft linen sheets.
his Greenwich apartment
is filled with brick walls and unfinished art;
it smells of leather and rain.
we fold our bodies into different shapes
on mats on the floor.
he assures me
my heart will not break anymore.
i look at my hand and a ring
reminds me this is my forever
then my thoughts fade into heather.
my eyes spring open,
eager for his warm embrace-
instead i lay in an Ikea bed with jersey sheets.
i suppose i shall continue to dream until our hearts finally meet.
ar
Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 4:21 AM UTC
“home”
my curves call him over-
every crease and cut is his to paint.
my eyes see thirty years into the future;
french doors swing open to reveal a
danish garden in the
spanish countryside.
i kiss my three children with my heart,
i kiss him with my mind.
tuscan tiles tell tales while i
chop cherry tomatoes.
our cottage is cozy and cluttered with scents of
cammomile, cedar, cinnamon.
i couldn’t have dreamed of contentment like this.
i can die happy with them by my side.
ar
Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 4:15 AM UTC
“jazz”
sweet sax drizzles itself over me
like honey,
sticking to my limbs-
oh so sweet.
on the day my heart smiled,
the sky was lilac,
and filled with cotton candy clouds.
the birds sang like piano keys;
the bees, like bass.
the flowers shared their tender smiles and
transported me to a time where
he and i
were real
and our hearts could smile freely.
ar
Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 4:11 AM UTC
“d.r.”
i’d sail the earth to find him.
i’ve seen into the minds of men,
i’ve read their eyes,
i’ve kissed their fears;
but not one has touched my heart the way he has.
i have not kissed, touched, or known him,
yet
his heart is pure and
my bones ache for his embrace.
i yearn for his tough skin in my sheets.
i long for silence in his company.
i wish to sit in the pale moonlight and
kiss him til my heart and his
are married
and pregnant with our third child.
i want to know him for all eternity.
ar
Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 4:06 AM UTC
“two thousand five hundred and fifty four”
never get drunk and think about
the boy you love
that lives thousands of miles away.
don’t let your lips get wet
at the thought of his ***** hands.
ignore your increased heartbeat
when you relive him ordering
a cup of black coffee.
don’t allow your eyes to leak
when you remember his french girlfriend
and the fact that you and he
will never
be together again.
ar
Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 4:00 AM UTC
“him”
i love him-
it feels unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.
i wish my grandma was here so I could tell her about the boy from New York
who has long dreadlocks and
does art and
reads insightful novels and
does yoga.
i want to run into his arms;
squeeze him tight.
i want to lock my lips together with his
full lips
and sigh a great sigh of relief.
i want to trace his body with my fingers and
i want him to paint me
white.
i’d live in Greenwich village for him.
only
for him.
ar
Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 3:55 AM UTC
"twenty"
I love taking long, slow walks
barefoot
at night when the cement is
warm and the air is clean.
Twenty
is looking like it'll be another year
filled with over generosity
and energy vampires.
I only crave french kisses
and love making
and money
steadily flowing into my bank account.
Maybe twenty will be filled with only dreams.
ar
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 5:56 PM UTC
"let's play"
my jaw aches
wisdom teeth are eagerly
pushing through the surface
but I am not wise.
I am a child
who has
a diagnosed mother
a diseased father
a demonic brother
I have been diagnosed with adulthood
diseased with reoccurring tragedies
and plagued by demonic thought and
ideas that creep inside my mind
when the banshees come out
to play at night.
ar
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 5:53 PM UTC