I met a boy who shined like every star I have swallowed,
Wanting of their light.
I met a boy with tropical wind in his hair and a smile like looking down from the summit of a mountain.
And something about the way he says my name makes me go so quiet
Something in how soft he looks when he smiles at me.
If I could I would spend every waking hour describing every perfection,
But I will settle for this.
Because there are two states, ten hours by car, one time zone and so many miles between us.
So I will write poetry.
I will replace all the wondering and wanting that I've kept within my ribs
With something like love
Something like devotion.
And someday when the stars align and I can hold him in my arms
I will say all this to him and more
From the top of a tower overlooking my world
And he will see just how much I mean it.
Oct 9, 2017
Oct 9, 2017 at 1:01 PM UTC
Not with a blade
Nor with blood on my hands
But with wisdom
And compassion
May I be tyranny’s end
With poetry and prose
With the ink and the rose
With an inkling to know
Just and unjust
Right from wrong
May I be tyranny’s end
With love
Not a bullet
No bombs to blow through it
No glass shattered or metal disfigured
This is what I figured
May a revolution of words
Be tyranny’s end
Feb 19, 2017
Feb 19, 2017 at 11:21 PM UTC
We both read our scripts,
but we're not on the same page.
You and I are just actors
who treat life as the stage.
We rehearse our lines,
but they're not what we mean,
for once lets break character
and call cut on this scene.
We could steal the show
if we rewrite the play
and end the charade
of this macabre matinee.
We've reached the finale,
there's no encore after all.
This is our shot,
our last curtain call.
Feb 19, 2017
Feb 19, 2017 at 11:20 PM UTC
Did you know?
I have vines growing around my ribs now.
A tree growing in my guts where I used to hold galaxies.
Churning stardust catching between teeth,
Painting my lips.
Seeping out of my skin and into the sink.
I am a book of metaphors and paradox.
I am nothing at all.
I speak you fair with a liars tongue,
All made of silver and moondust.
Easy words.
I am celestial,
And though your starstuff still makes me sick in the mornings,
Picking your shine from my teeth
All your refuse still inside me wretched into the sink.
Though my limbs are scarred with an effort to see my own galaxies
I am through obsessing over celestial souls.
Too many boys and girls with stars in their eyes
Or Saturn's rings around their fingers
Have caught me with lunar promises and magic fallen from careless lips
Like meteor showers.
I'm rid of my stars.
Now I've been planting flowers in my ribs
The vines mingle with a web of forget-me-nots and bleeding hearts
Lavender buds sprouting from old scars
I pass the 3 am itch off as them growing
Learn to ignore it.
Feb 19, 2017
Feb 19, 2017 at 11:19 PM UTC
I speak to the moon
in the dead of night.
I come to her
when her light is bright.
I confess my secrets,
beneath the starlight,
and pray there is not
another soul in sight.
I dance with her sprites,
around the firelight,
and listen carefully,
as she recites her rites.
I give her my secrets,
and she ties them up tight,
hanging them high,
like a stalactites,
that shimmer
like the northern lights.
In return she incites,
that we unite each night,
so she can hear me recite,
my love for her,
beneath her loving light.
Feb 19, 2017
Feb 19, 2017 at 11:05 PM UTC
The wreaths of requiem ,
rest like the flocks of pigeons
in the delapidated buildings
where we house the words of
a frustratedly forgotten God
Our thoughts are marbled
Sculptured by surely ways
that leave their mark upon
the soft white limestone
we once held for granite
So we take "noes" for hostage
"Yes" in all it's uncertainty
and doubts and fears
we leave to professionals
Mass en Mass . . .
the silence shouts for redemption
as Altar boys stare straight ahead
and mouth unholy words
they could not swallow
Nay Nay !
The robes of iniquity
girdles more than the truth
of daybreaks after nights
of shadowed sin , brutal lusts
and innocent blood stained floors
Feb 18, 2017
Feb 18, 2017 at 9:19 PM UTC
I somehow feel the need to apologize.
Still.
After all this time.
You sang like I was made of the earth and the wind
The lovely things.
And when I said those three words for the first time
And you repeated them...
My heart stopped and my soul flew.
I was ready to give up my freedom and my future for you...
Then you say we're growing apart,
You tell him that you never loved me, don't like girls, dated me out of pity
And I cried for five hours straight while my heart broke and my mind screamed
'I told you I'm not a girl.'
Labor day isn't the same even all these years later.
I still have to tell myself it's not my fault.
You were on fawns legs,
The who am I what I am where do I fit that comes with adolescence
And you spoke me fair from the moment we met.
I was so happy to finally have someone who saw me for me.
I told you so soon
'I'm not a girl, I know it's hard to understand but...'
And you say you don't care, nothing changes, I see stars in your eyes
And I'm so happy to hold your hand in the hallway,
No matter who stares.
I should expect the backtracking. The fear.
Your parents, who knows what they'd do.
And you break it off quietly.
Saying you don't think you really like girls.
I am still not a girl.
We don't really talk now. I just find it hard to feel anything but tired when I'm near you.
Then you. You are a girl made of startuff.
Your heart among the planets and constellations.
I call you starshine and eventually
I hope. I ask. I confess.
I admit I planned my life with you.
Big city apartment, stargazing far away from life,
Leaving small town made of quicksand for higher hills and brighter skies.
And you were the only one who ever called me by my name.
Called me a boy.
Gave me anything that felt real.
And I know it hurt you to hurt me.
I gave you my heart and you treated it as tenderly as you could have.
I don't fault you for that. I don't fault you for anything.
No matter what you make me feel real
And I always have loved the stars.
Feb 18, 2017
Feb 18, 2017 at 9:19 PM UTC
I have threaded a thousand sorries into my spleen
My limbs are brittle as the galaxies ache
Unmeasurable stars have fallen from the universe
Bow shaped atmosphere rebirths the sun
Cosmic beauty with a sideways smile
Moon travelers chorus with unidentified sounds
You're my secret ingredient ,my windsock
I would reside on the outskirts of the solar system just to gaze at you
Cauterize my brain rocket it into space, I'm a lifelong lover of the stars anyway
Microscopic cells launched into the stratosphere
Feb 18, 2017
Feb 18, 2017 at 9:24 AM UTC
*Tie yourself to those who fly
Aspire the vivid in our onyx sky
Rid the negative
Utilise the prime
Be dynamic and spiritual
In all of your time.*
Amanda. F (c) 2017
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 9:10 PM UTC
They called me rabbit
When I took their punches and their venom.
Felt blood well around my eye, all internal.
Learned that I am made of neither fists nor knives.
Learned cowardice tastes more bitter than fear.
They called me wolf
When I put on the belt and turned my hands into killing things
Felt the bones in my foot crack.
Learned to pull my kicks.
Learned my hands can be considered a deadly weapon.
They called me rabbit
When my voice shook, cracked, crumbled.
Felt something inside me like rage or fear.
Learned shame in the back of my throat.
Learned every song must end.
They called me wolf
When I stole the mic and learned to sing from my chest.
Felt something in me soar.
Learned I am more than their laughter.
Learned my soul is music.
They called me rabbit
When the called me Girl.
Felt my soul squirm at how wrong the frame was.
Learned Girl was weak.
Learned Girl was tears and limp wrists, fear and failure.
They called me wolf
When they called me Boy.
Felt sun shine through straight teeth.
Learned I am still the things they call Girl.
Learned Girl made me a stronger Boy.
Learned I am the rabbit
Learned I am the wolf.
Learned that strength is born of weakness,
I am born from myself.
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 9:01 PM UTC