mari-kay-van-fleet - Hello Poetry

I can touch your skin without crying and wanting to tear away my own That hasn't happened in too many years or maybe not enough I don't know if it's early or late but you don't care so nothing has to change We can watch American Horror Story even though we are living one And I can hold onto you with teeth and nails because this darkness is vicious and wants you gone I can watch your back shift as you pull off that burnout Your demons slide along your bones under pale skin And then you toss the shirt over your head and they slip back into your grooves Eyelashes are smearing tears in the cup of your shoulder under the careful watch of your black eyes Our hearts are black too but not in the way everyone thinks But it doesn't matter, sweetheart You wouldn't care if I had a red heart or a blue one Because it wouldn't make a difference, baby

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Oct 24, 2013

Oct 24, 2013 at 11:16 AM UTC

Would it make a difference, baby

I can touch your skin without crying and wanting to tear away my own That hasn't happened in too many years or maybe not enough I don't know if it's early or late but you don't care so nothing has to change We can watch American Horror Story even though we are living one And I can hold onto you with teeth and nails because this darkness is vicious and wants you gone I can watch your back shift as you pull off that burnout Your demons slide along your bones under pale skin And then you toss the shirt over your head and they slip back into your grooves Eyelashes are smearing tears in the cup of your shoulder under the careful watch of your black eyes Our hearts are black too but not in the way everyone thinks But it doesn't matter, sweetheart You wouldn't care if I had a red heart or a blue one Because it wouldn't make a difference, baby

22

But there's God in you And in your son, Michael and baby Claire God's in the curves of your face as you swallow an idea from open air God's in the taste on your tongue, as you chew and it spills out of your fingers over white paper cut in blue stripes God's in your skin too where your blood cuts blue stripes too and sometimes the stripes turn red and raw God's in the way you look at me and that's not a science at all

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Oct 22, 2013

Oct 22, 2013 at 11:14 AM UTC

There's No God in Science

But there's God in you And in your son, Michael and baby Claire God's in the curves of your face as you swallow an idea from open air God's in the taste on your tongue, as you chew and it spills out of your fingers over white paper cut in blue stripes God's in your skin too where your blood cuts blue stripes too and sometimes the stripes turn red and raw God's in the way you look at me and that's not a science at all

14

The waxing crescent moon is dim but it sheds light enough to see thirty dusty glass eyes staring right back at me Neat spun curls in copper, gold, and chocolate beneath delicate straw hats trimmed in lace fifteen cold bodies stand stock still with all of their gazes trained on my face Dainty petticoats fluffy under dresses and leater boots over feet without toes what they do when we close our eyes nobody truly knows Painted-on cheeks and smooth porcelain grins fifteen flawless girls all perfectly dressed smiling wide because they all know this night will give me no rest

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Oct 4, 2013

Oct 4, 2013 at 11:21 AM UTC

Toying with the Dark

The waxing crescent moon is dim but it sheds light enough to see thirty dusty glass eyes staring right back at me Neat spun curls in copper, gold, and chocolate beneath delicate straw hats trimmed in lace fifteen cold bodies stand stock still with all of their gazes trained on my face Dainty petticoats fluffy under dresses and leater boots over feet without toes what they do when we close our eyes nobody truly knows Painted-on cheeks and smooth porcelain grins fifteen flawless girls all perfectly dressed smiling wide because they all know this night will give me no rest

16

Black gravel and slime soaked in sallow streetlight Rap music wedges through the crack in a broken hinge The dishwasher in the kitchen swears and drops a hot pan A rich man in a rich car cruises by, smothering my darkness in headlights highlighting the grime on the toes of my Chucks My break is up But I will just stay here, toss my cigarette stub in the greasy pepper can and have another smoke

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Oct 4, 2013

Oct 4, 2013 at 11:15 AM UTC

Jalapeno Cans

Black gravel and slime soaked in sallow streetlight Rap music wedges through the crack in a broken hinge The dishwasher in the kitchen swears and drops a hot pan A rich man in a rich car cruises by, smothering my darkness in headlights highlighting the grime on the toes of my Chucks My break is up But I will just stay here, toss my cigarette stub in the greasy pepper can and have another smoke

21

They used to crawl across the ceiling and drop over her when she slept to make razor slices in her hips and by morning they were gone But they aren't slaves to sunlight anymore so they never have to leave They stick to her bones and breathe her lungs to haunt her always

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Oct 1, 2013

Oct 1, 2013 at 9:22 PM UTC

Demons

They used to crawl across the ceiling and drop over her when she slept to make razor slices in her hips and by morning they were gone But they aren't slaves to sunlight anymore so they never have to leave They stick to her bones and breathe her lungs to haunt her always

24