She smelled like exotic fruit
freshly peeled, pungent
as she leaned over our adoring faces
buttons of her shirt open
almost all the way
we envied every curve suggested
and waited for hand me downs
wishing we could paint on
layers of her skin
we listened in on those late night calls
from boys who, after taking home
softer girls
would kiss her the next day
behind the skating rink
unlike those boys we loved
everything about her and wanted
it to be our lips they touched
juices dripping
we wanted the same sour taste
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 7:40 PM UTC
spoiler alert: #implicitly mature, in some way...#
TAKE 1
a bench. a garden.
the guy: *yeah, *** to **** my way through,
so, i'll be on my way.*
the girl: (silence).
close-up: the guy, his back.
fade.
TAKE 2
a car. in the front seats.
no sun set.
the girl: yeah, but it is not worth it, so.
the guy: yeah.
panoramic: a street. cars passing by.
TAKE 3
total darkness.
a voice whispers a scream.
the guy: *why can't i **** you?!*
the girl: (silence).
total darkness.
the guy again.
TAKE 4
a river. a wooden fence.
the girl. leaning.
close-up: her hands.
the girl: (silence).
her hands. a cat comes by.
the cat moves away.
panoramic: the river, the back of the girl.
high noon. no shadows.
Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 7:34 AM UTC
if a 13 year night
so deep and made of stars
could not save you
how could I
my nightmares
are now defined
within the history of us
some shadows stayed
long past midnight
Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 1:03 PM UTC
Sitting in that tiny room
you call your
office
sweating in sweat
heater blaring
chills of regret.
Inflammatory response
tightened up
tripped out
grimace has become
your middle name.
To steal from Bob Dylan
"there must be some way
out of here"
No wonder
plunging head long
headaching
heart breaking
into red brick walls
second story shaky
jail cells flaking
one too many souls
borrowing one soul too many.
We don't really
get it our way.
Bursting out of all that gray
making your way.
The streets will be
calling your name
to be the light angel again
drifting into dark
consciousness to light
the way.
Descending
back into
that
twisted tiny room
you call your office
in a modular tomb
and the only window
is
sleep.
Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 6:07 AM UTC
Hard to miss, you can take me home.
I'd rather be anyone than to be alone.
Marlboro-stained teeth
have my lips controlled.
Don't mistake the chemicals
for our souls.
I move with the waters inside your ribcage.
Because when I drown in you,
it's the perfect place.
Softly, please, taking off our clothes:
I can see the kisses that have left holes.
You've been acid-washed
by love that wasn't stronger.
Take off your armor,
so you can stay here longer.
Your face is as cold
as the place I found you in.
You can let go of the hurt
trapped beneath your skin.
I keep warm in your fire that beats fast.
To be alone with you, it to be, at last.
Hard to miss, I will take you home.
You can be anyone, rather than be alone.
Remove your shoes, but not your heart.
You can stay here, as our world falls apart.
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 7:16 AM UTC
*Aimless wander
In the unfathomed depths
I drove into the walls of truth
And
Disentangled my mind
From the imprudent rationalisation
Of the subjective.*
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 6:58 AM UTC
Sometimes you feel
like a violent earthquake
lodged inside this tiny space
you passionately refer to as
-
the opening being a tissue paper flower
so delicately framing
the dark, endless center
(if you probed deep enough
you'd find
my heart beating
in patient rhythms
waiting upside down
beneath my left breast)
Sometimes I'm afraid
you'll get stuck in there
somewhere
and I'll have to call my mother
scream into the phone "How
do I get it out of me?" She'd
probably laugh
then break the connection
(if you searched long enough
you'd find
a broken chain
of paper dolls with minds
full of passion and miracles)
Sometimes you'll ask
brave lover of mine
if it was as good for me
as it was for you
did the oceans roar
the trees sway, the heavens sigh
you look into that space between
ask if I felt the earth move
(if you dreamed hard enough
you'd find
me alone in this room
in this bed you built
trembling beneath you)
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 7:47 AM UTC
little sister do you remember all those nights
I sat on the edge softly folding my love
your small body warm but heavy
my attempts at safety as I spun
apologies into lullabies
and read stories of ethereal landscapes
with orphaned children lost
I almost had you believing
we would be so much more
than our childhoods suggested
and in kings who ruled true
and queens who stayed brave
little sister can you imagine I am sorry
for all the nights I walked by your door
without stopping, my footsteps echoing
the sacrifice I did not make
leaving you wanting
stories where nobody needs to be saved
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 8:24 AM UTC