Muscle memory has made our movements
so cyclical
we
tangle ourselves up monthly
entering each others presences
with our
amens
your back an altar
that I worship at,
your arms the extent of the world that I acknowledge exits
for now
but the sunlight will always find its way
between us on your pillows
and will always rise
sure of its self
that is has picked the right moment because,
it is the golden boy of the family
and you
will always rise sure of the fact
that you must leave
because it is your ritual
to never expose enough to be a full picture
and I will allow myself to learn again
that the sun
is the brighter star here.
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 1:21 PM UTC
1. Be brave enough to love a girl
Who is:
Sensitive as ripe fruit
and
Resilient like redwood
2. Carry my lipstick remnants in the
valleys
of your collarbone.
Learn the ways to
find the flowers
under my epidermis and make them
bloom.
3. I do not want your love to
come in a
hand
me
down
box.
Show me what’s collected in your
Black hoodie
pockets.
Mar 6, 2015
Mar 6, 2015 at 1:17 AM UTC
The graffiti that flew by
on an abandoned house
asked me
“will you go with me?”
It makes me wonder
What was their leaving like?
Was it shredding of divorce papers?
Lips so chapped from lack of love and lots of screaming
Who decided to go first?
Was it middle night terror?
An escape plan, 3 parts desperation, 1 part hope
When knives go flying
You tend to want to watch out for your own heart
Or was it a hypothetical new year in the middle of March
Spring and flowers are coming
Someone’s chance at a bigger and better temporary
A grand gesture to invite their loved ones along
Will you go with me?
What will my leaving be like, when it comes time to add a new home to my list
It is always in the pits of inadequacy I remind myself
This around you is temporary
And you are getting better and better at building what you need
I wonder if I will have someone to ask
Will you go with me?
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 7:05 PM UTC
I try my best to be like fruit
so that any scars and bruised left by your poking and
prodding careless hands
teach me to be softer and sweeter than I was before.
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 7:04 PM UTC
We are two people with flashlights for hands
rooting in each others rib cage
showing off the bits of broken glass we swallowed
I will try to make mine pretty
and you'll laugh
cause everything ***** really.
I hope you think that what you've found between my crosshatched texture
one winged birds and fraying rope
**** a little less than most things
Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 1:36 AM UTC
Dear Alarm clock that always has the wrong time,
you really **** with my sleep schedule.
Not in a bad way
its just,
you showed me how much luminescence there can be in the dark
and now I want to be awake for all of it.
Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 1:57 AM UTC
Dear Sweater that is to small for me now,
at 16 I lived in you
at 17 you helped me learn to hate my body
and at 18 my best friend had to pry me from within your stretched out, past due hold
you’re still in the back of my closet somewhere.
Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 1:56 AM UTC
I watch those who consume
to feel colored
in the lines
with the edge of my eye
it’s the slap
heard at the end of a fight
its hitting me
but I’m only holding the bottle
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 4:46 PM UTC
Here is an etiquette guide for your happiness
all of the parts of your soul which haunt you in the moments before sleep
you are allowed to be free from them
do not grab your thinnest blanket
your pillow that is self-pity
buy blackout curtains and darker lampshades
and move into a cramped apartment with your demons
But do not buy your demons a home
Spend all your viability on stardust, white light, and kindness of strangers
Knit scarves for your worth
Friendship bracelets for confidence
Buy plots in the forest for your faith
Cook five course meals for love
And when you are ready to make peace
Invite your demons over for tea
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 4:45 PM UTC
Your spine is a holy place
From the tip of your neck, to the cradle in your pelvis, it is baptized in your waters
Starting with cervical, a lucky number of seven sections
The number of days it took god to create the earth
Greek mythology tells me, Cer is the personification of a violent death
Vic means to substitute,
Therefore this section substitutes itself for your violent death
Holding up an unlucky number 13
Pounds.
Of skull, and flesh and
Blood. Which it facilitates the flow of
It has hollowed itself out for nerves
Hollowed itself out so that you may feel
Everything.
Thoracic.
A dozen protective pieces,like the disciples foundation
Hammered in by thor himself
God of the sky
The horizon within dotted by a heart, some lungs,
Spleen, stomach, diaphragm
Stars in your very own galaxy
Lumbar
Five little graces
Luminary
Holding enough weight so
that the sun could settle down
right between your hip bones
root within your nerves
Apollo has come to visit
Showing you just how much holy light you can carry
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 4:44 PM UTC