these days i feel like water. like an ocean cusping on the marked line of a horizon. like a droplet riveting and rolling, making its way down to pool onto a ledge.
the slightest nudge, a gentle push
and i'd spill over.
sitting dangerously on the lip of the cup
teetering in and out of balance-
it is a game of give or take
i bend myself backwards into a crescent
just to make room for their full mooned selves
i wonder how Neil Armstrong felt
when he took his first step onto the dusty crater ridden plain
and found himself
all
alone
i am
alone
destined to listlessly twirl around my own axis dreamlike
but not like a dream at all
floating miles away from the person i have yet to unearth
but yet not far enough to fly among the stars
i am held by the centre of my own gravity
is that why sometimes i can hear my bones creak under the weight of the person i was supposed to be?
Sep 19, 2023
Sep 19, 2023 at 6:44 AM UTC
you were a fever pitch of a dream
my lips pressed flushed to your edges
searing and splitting my seams open
grief trickled out
a steady stream of
red sticky warm
tasting just like sugar if i run my tongue
along the right corner
breath bated
teeth parted
pregnant.
pause.
it threatens to escape
an unwarranted sigh
snaking its way through my cracks
reaching to close the space between us
if i breathe it into existence
it will change everything.
inhale, exhale
brace for impact.
reckless with abandon
the wind sweeps our caution away
gently, at first, then somehow all at once
if i said
'i love you'
would it be a fact or weapon?
Sep 19, 2023
Sep 19, 2023 at 6:32 AM UTC
you rose up from the murky depths
breaking the surface of stilled waters
disturbing tranquil oceans and calm seas
at first, a gentle ripple-
rolling roiling reeling
collecting bones of sunken ships
pulling pieces of dredged up memories
along your wake of destruction
you turn yourself inside out
over
and over
and over
into crested waves
crashing into my sandy banks
darling,
wash away all my self control
and resistance built up over pent
disappointments and picketed frustrations
the past engulfs me;
heat of your skin pressed against mine
lips pursed in anticipation
of the last time you said you loved me
love,
flood my lungs
for i think i'm running out of air
to breathe into this mirage.
Sep 19, 2023
Sep 19, 2023 at 6:13 AM UTC
once a month
when you see the moon
basking in the glow of her lunar lunacy
her belly filled to the brim with stardust
hauling the drunken songs of sailors
to her like a tide
i hope you think of me.
Sep 17, 2023
Sep 17, 2023 at 12:27 PM UTC
you have
such a hold on me
tight gripped choke like a
lump that's settled and
made a home in my throat
that i can't swallow down.
Sep 17, 2023
Sep 17, 2023 at 12:04 PM UTC
wounds winding the
drawstrings of my heart
closed shut. sharp tongued
words twisted right into my
tight lipped barnacled edge
trying to pry me open.
cracked ajar salt water flushes
flooding nicked skin bled red
into soft pink flesh tip me
over slid out of shell and
swallow me whole. tell me the
last time someone left a sweet taste in your mouth
and i will eat the clock.
Sep 17, 2023
Sep 17, 2023 at 11:32 AM UTC
like a star
the girl shines
plastic packaging removed
double-a batteries inserted
and with a flick of a switch
she lights up
beaming twinkling
amidst a galaxy of stars
that look just like her
that smile just like her
that behave just like her
she is held together by her own gravity
set forever to whirl and twirl and swirl
about her own little axis
dancing prancing
for the sentinels
for the solar systems
for the universe
like a star
the girl dies
inwards not out
crumbling crumpling
from the weight of empty mascara bottles lipstick tubes-face paint
to the weightlessness of her own self
Apr 2, 2016
Apr 2, 2016 at 1:37 PM UTC
There is always pain in her.
Between her bones and skin;
separate from her blood.
She has only known
how to cast everything out
from the dinners she's barely keeping down
to the "are you alright"s and "are you eating properly"s
She is so used to
never keeping anything for herself
never holding onto to something she can call her own,
long enough for her to know
how to cherish, how to treasure, how to love.
She is smothered and mothered and suffocated
by the numbers that rise and fall, push and pull
engulfing overwhelming drowning
all that she is.
less is more/ less is more/ less is more
The girl's self worth is
inversely proportional to
how much of her
there is in this world.
That is why she must
refuse refute reject
until she becomes so much closer to nothing
until there is none of her left.
Until she fades out of existence.
Slowly, quietly but surely-
a decrescendo to her swan song
"The world will end with not a bang, but a whimper"
Instant gratification
for an instance of a girl.
Apr 2, 2016
Apr 2, 2016 at 1:33 PM UTC