You taught me how to kiss like a grown up but I
Was too young to be made to feel that old
That was the first night I dreamt of loving a girl
But when I opened my eyes it was you
Beckoning cuz you were hungry and I
Followed cuz I was curious
But I didn’t want your hands on me that way
I didn’t want to choke on the taste of you
Before walking back as the sun came up
Telling myself that’s how it’s supposed to be.
Funny how landslides happen
How they start with a loose pebble
And end up crushing trees.
Funny how I had to lie to myself once
To believe it every time.
So call me when you want me and I
Will be yours for an hour and after when you
Lie drunk on a passing feeling I’ll pick up my bag
And I’ll fade softly into the night.
And then when the sun comes up I’ll whisper the
Same quiet words outloud to myself
But that’s how it’s supposed to be, right?
Nov 14, 2018
Nov 14, 2018 at 10:29 PM UTC
i never knew an empty house
until i realized i didn't have to step twice
with my right foot
on the last stair before i
closed the door.
& i never knew silence,
though i think i thought i did,
until the night the kitchen light burnt out
& i sat alone til morning
in the glow of the old refrigerator.
& i never knew shock i guess
until the day they handed you to me
in a box that fit too well in my hand
& their I'm sorrys were silenced
as i shut the door mid-sentence.
knowing you were in that box hurt almost as much
as feeling your body go still in my hands.
i'll miss your eyes very much, &
i will always step twice with my right foot
on the last stair before i close the door.
Dec 21, 2016
Dec 21, 2016 at 9:47 PM UTC
Things in this house get
forgotten.
Leaves on the stairs,
a cat grows old in the
basement.
The wind sings itself to
sleep and the trees
dance with shadows
across the window.
Things in this house are
hoarded, cloistered,
shut up in
locked drawers with
missing keys and
locked chests with
heavy lids.
He hides things in here,
letters and toys and pictures,
and he leaves his walls bare.
He lovingly locks his memories away,
half pencils, one mitten, lost teeth,
and he can sleep at night because
eighteen years' time has
manifested itself in
tops of baby bottles, plastic bracelets, winter hats,
and now they lie dusty but safe in
his quiet, lonely house.
The light in the kitchen burns out
one day.
He readjusts the crayons
in their drawer.
Dec 21, 2016
Dec 21, 2016 at 9:41 PM UTC
Part I
The wind carries his ashes over the sea.
Part II
I get in my car and drive home.
Part III
Nothing is ever the same.
Dec 21, 2016
Dec 21, 2016 at 9:36 PM UTC
Doll, honey, sweetie, old lady,
Life's been tough, especially lately.
You told me I'd be breaking hearts one day,
But so far mine's been the only the break,
And the boys here are cruel,
And the world here is fake.
Dec 4, 2016
Dec 4, 2016 at 11:06 AM UTC
found a garter snake when I was
seven. begged her to let me take it
home because it was dead anyway and I'd
never seen a snake not at a
zoo.
carried it on a stick,
limp, dangling, body reduced to a
morbid noodle that
bounced comically with every
step.
left it on the driveway in a circle of
leaves to get "When we
went home."
went inside,
forgot it.
looked for it on the last day,
car packed, rain starting to
fall and the snake was
gone.
Maybe, my dad said, His friends came and
took him for a proper snake
funeral.
ate up his words like
sugar, got in my car seat, didn't ask about it
again.
found out years later his
girlfriend was always scared of
snakes.
Dec 4, 2016
Dec 4, 2016 at 11:04 AM UTC
The hyacinths
they were heads peeking above a
fence, prisoners in a camp
behind a wall under a sky belonging to
the same world that made their
petals ashy, paper-fine to the
touch and it's a wonder one
rainstorm didn't destroy them.
But resilience, as you know, is
everything in a place like this so
rather than crumble to dust
they folded with the wind and
held onto each other's brittle stalks
and when the morning came they hung
limp but alive and drying again under the
merciless sun.
Dec 4, 2016
Dec 4, 2016 at 10:58 AM UTC
I HAVE SEEN BLUE CARS BUT I KNOW THEYRE NOT REALLY BLUE
I HAVE SEEN RED LIPSTICK BUT I KNOW ITS NOT REALLY RED
I HAVE SEEN GREY SKIES BUT I KNOW THEYRE NEVER REALLY GREY I HAVE SAID ITS WHITE WHEN ITS BLACK BECAUSE THEY SAID IT WAS WHITE AND I WAS GREEN TO BE PURPLE LIKE THEM BUT NOW I SEE THEY WERE YELLOW INSIDE ALL ALONG AND WHAT I THOUGHT WAS BROWN IS GOLD.
Nov 6, 2016
Nov 6, 2016 at 12:13 PM UTC
cant not love you cant not love you cant not
love you
castles mountains little candles cars
my mother always told me to close my
mouth you love it like this though because you can
find my lips in the dark and
everything everything everything about you i
become a softly raging fire at your fingertips and i
cant not love you cant not love you cant not love
you always will count on it one two three close
your eyes cross your fingers better yet wrap them around
mine even in the dark all i ever see is color because i
cant i cant i cant not
love you.
Nov 6, 2016
Nov 6, 2016 at 12:02 PM UTC
What did I dream about last night?
Well
First there were some bright lights
some sand on top of my feet
rooted
pillows
mountains
folds of blankets
valleys between playing cliffs
why are you
reaching for me I'm just
smoke and I'll
slip through your chewed on fingers like
water leave you cold and shivering
when the world wakes up.
And did you look in the mirror back
then because you were always blue and I was
yellow and seven was my favorite color
still is. you laugh but I know
you know what I mean
sleeping in the nature of our bedroom.
we laughed and the walls
laughed with us
cried tears and became a
waterfall.
What are we?
I long for you to rest your
arm over mine
again.
She said show don't tell but I
just hope you know I still
miss the quiet forest we built for our
selves at night.
Nov 6, 2016
Nov 6, 2016 at 11:50 AM UTC