great calamity of the sea
please bring my baby back to me
for all these tears i've come to weep
as air bubbles and thrashing cloth emerge from the deep
Jun 3, 2022
Jun 3, 2022 at 2:53 PM UTC
Thrashing, clawing,
I drank the salt milk of the Earth
I learned long ago that if i try to breathe you in I
choke instead
Throat on fire and a head full of flowers, your name cusped my wrists like champagne grips the glass it drips from
Cold and sticky
Smelling like the soul of an old forgotten farmhouse
thousands of baby's breath swaying, the vapor is in the floor boards
just like I am in you
Dark, envy green stems thorn the tissue of my temple
and when they get out,
the blood drips so long and hard that it
carries its own longing
are you afraid?
Jun 3, 2022
Jun 3, 2022 at 2:52 PM UTC
i want to pull open your chest, dig my fingers to bone
red viscera clinging to cold, wet skin
i am all 117 pounds of longing to know the darkness inside, all the places you've been
i want you to hit me until a small part of you feels good
healed even
you playfully pinned my arms in california,
me, hundreds of miles from home. you, hundreds of microseconds away from snapping.
looked down at me with, well,
all perplexion and cinched dark brow
I couldn't tell if you were trying to figure out if i got a new pair of eyes since i'd last seen you
or if you were searching for the possibility of the ability to - absolutely undo me.
cracked open
shake out all the pins and twigs and thimbles
Terence White said
"Think of lust. Real blood lust is like that."
But White was talking about falconry,
and I'm talking about a sick personal desire to be obliterated
knock all the blocks down and cut the chord,
and like the graeae we'll share one heart,
one pain,
a shared experience in which we come out understanding
as if that's something that
we can even
manage
Oct 7, 2021
Oct 7, 2021 at 11:54 AM UTC
felt like a leviathan lift, a soul pull
that he cracked open and showed me
I showed him trouble and red marks about the neck
he gave me berries from his fingers and seashells
and he still liked me
best.
even when my cheeks burned off freckles of ash
somewhere far away
I like him best when both eyes clench and he sways
waves of autonomy transcending him somewhere I'll never know
only wish to be
to lay down my love, my life
my solace and my forgiveness in one sentry
May 4, 2021
May 4, 2021 at 10:59 AM UTC
on the tip of the bridge
I sink knowingly
Because I know you'll see
is it enough to suffer for you?
the less I know the better
Apr 26, 2021
Apr 26, 2021 at 12:55 AM UTC
it felt like a kiss from god
stung, swollen red and lots of
peculiarity
I move my hips in the mirror wondering if I'd look good to you
I just want comfort
it's so cold so much of the time
in an existence
chock full of unknown
I just want something to hold onto
so I'll do as you ask
I'll put your crimson hand to my mouth and pull
in
through my teeth
anything anything anything I can breath in
just to sit in a field of flowers
and feel a lively warmth radiate from within
Apr 1, 2021
Apr 1, 2021 at 4:38 PM UTC
through the turbulent toss of a coin,
time drew its arrow back like a metro bus slowing to accept sparse, fresh picked passengers.
love, mind, and my soul swim together in a psychedelic pool of
the drowned sirens of old.
When night is cold, cold like the ship brimming through ice
ice Atlantic Ocean water
Eyes heavy, warmth of sleep, drifting through dreamscapes
she comes to me and runs her salt licked fingers through my hair.
And it doesn't hurt when she bites - well,
or maybe I succumb to it like all things
but when she pulls me down into the water, it all
becomes oh so clear.
I'm here to experience, like you
and for now, I suppose that really can be all there is to it.
This morning, I woke up in the bath
Hydrated, aware, no usual withdrawal
But I can't explain all this water on my floor and walls
Dec 13, 2020
Dec 13, 2020 at 7:03 PM UTC
turn of tides, torn to pieces, I pushed you away
the pull to you - unforgettable, magnetizing, ever present
How am I supposed to dream of looking you in the eyes
for this long?
simple words, simple fall of leaves, the seasons change as they do
you grow older, wiser and fonder.
I wish the stars would tell you, my heart still aches for you every day
the snow is so white bone cold where I am.
Will I ever grow out of you?
so long, Erica - my funny nick name for you
I've been numbing this feeling of loss
of you
with whatever I can - yet you're still there every ******* time
polarizing. green, mossy pools in the forest kind of ojos are what you have.
it scares me what I'd sacrifice
to feel your palms on my stomach
if I lock eyes with you ever again, I swear to every God on this Earth that you will be mine
again, if you will
have
me.
Nov 25, 2020
Nov 25, 2020 at 12:09 AM UTC
more seeking and sinking,
more drugs and binge drinking
it's in a sweat, clawing search to find a pretty pretense.
I simply cannot evade getting lost in the mere cadence
of one with such pretty eyes.
Because we know it'll hurt - I face and bind my fate
I put my soul on show so you can freely desecrate
Because, who knows how long we have to keep going
the rapture is buzzing, ringing, and bringing
such a light white hazey dream filled clinging
to all the ways I've know to destroy and start again
to touch your soul and truly know you, to be kin
would satisfy such a deeper part.
But if anyone knows anything, it's that old habits die hard
Nov 21, 2020
Nov 21, 2020 at 12:13 AM UTC
Suffocating bursts of wind envelop me,
Like honey catching dove wings
Soft pulsing butter-fly flutter of my chest
bloomed into mute silence of love and loss of words,
and breath -
clamoring up a staircase of glass and spit,
I pondered all the contrived ways which love hurt me.
wading through the solemn sharp,
I sung a song of myself and drifted down the river of
you
My skirt plumed, drinking you all up, black sludge skipped the edges
you pulled me down, under, a pop of deflating lungs
And then - your cold dark infinite.
the only time I’d desire another infinite -
when
the walls begun humming, then whispering haunting damnations,
tethering me to this one..
The graveyard dirt is bitter, it stings hot nips at my skin.
The suffering of love, I equivocate evasive ramblings with scar-munched knees as my lungs fill with something other than
you.
An act of defiance, a resilient tribute to autonomy.
something dredged me from the ground - thick earthy sweat smell of moss and mineral tying me to this neutral plane between life
and death.
I want to hurt for art, for Ophelia.
for a greater cause, for moments that remind me of humility
even for the force of beauty
I cannot hurt for you, for it is not worth it to me
Nov 15, 2020
Nov 15, 2020 at 5:57 PM UTC