when winter comes I'll keep you warm.
under an over coat stitched and stretched with ninety yards of first kisses. oak moss and sweet smoke from an antique pipe. big enough to never lose, strong enough hold us everywhere we go.
when winter comes we'll pull on our lovely sweaters and watch our hot breath become cold clouds and dance away. we'll watch the birds leave. we'll skid across the parking lot on our heels, giggling our way to the ground, dragging one another.
taking turns
collapsing from
laughter.
when winter comes you won't be dead. when winter comes you'll still be here beside me like always. because I need someone to keep warm.
except... no,
not someone.
you.
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 2:07 PM UTC
bangzoom
like police cars
lining up
outside the funeral home
holdingmybreath
rubbing my temples.
breathing deep in an upright castle
made of particle board
andheldtogether
by strange whispered memories.
inside.
with a glittering computer screen that remembers everything reflected.
theclickofheelsinthehallway
the sharp snap of magnets
meeting.
So I bring you love
and coffee
and conversation.
wrapped tightly around our necks.
and love.
and love.
wrappedtightlyaroundournecks.
bangzoom.
Sep 14, 2013
Sep 14, 2013 at 5:26 PM UTC
i'll teach you what it's like to be a ghost
how to move from space to space unnoticed
how to blow through rooms on fire
without wincing.
how to be nimble
but paralyzing
and poignant.
i'll teach you what it's like to cut a noose
with a dull knife
and not bring down the whole house
i'll teach you how to take weight in your arms
without falling
and how you can get them to look you in the eyes
when they can't see through their tears
i'll prove to you
you can remove a heart
without breaking it
if you carry it in your throat
if i could impart to you
how to take a portion of their pain
without wearing it like a cloak
or exchanging it for guilt
i will show you.
i'll teach you what it's like to be a ghost.
May 25, 2013
May 25, 2013 at 12:28 AM UTC
what do you want
i want to put my forehead to your temple and wrap my arm around you. i want to feel at home again. and wild and unbound. with all of the fancy fish swimming from me to you. as i rock.
i rock my head against you, the curves make it easy to do. i tighten my grip and
glitter paint on our fingertips and that
small
secret on hushed lips, smirking. savored. unbound.
unbound and scattered. beautiful words. bold, italic, underlined. asterisks and parentheses. tossed and grabbed at by our bony fingers. like it was some sort of game. it was. i need you now.
enthusiasm and hip bones jutting. neon, day glow, pink and stained tile on the bathroom floor.
i need you now. simply. i know no one else came close.
one girl to another.
unbound.
Jan 25, 2013
Jan 25, 2013 at 5:11 AM UTC
take big, messy bites of plums and pomegranates. carry a pocket knife. use it to clean your teeth. in public especially. if people notice- smile and wave. then go back to plucking the skins out. collect moderately priced perfume and wear a spray or two too much. every day. grow out your nails, grow out your hair. then when the compliments come, clip them short. paint them black. bury your eyes in a buried book. change your routine. wake up an hour earlier and go on a jog, get coffee and a fresh croissant. keep your head up. exchange the air for flavored smoke. stare unapologetically. buy some new ******* put on your favorite lipstick and kiss the mirror. dance to that song every time it comes on. even if there are people in the room. sing into a hair brush and make them want to join in. buy a new box of crayons. wear them down to pathetic little nubs. buy yourself fresh flowers. laugh so hard that people can see if you have cavities. even way in the back. be sure to eat the things that cause them. drink coffee and flavored beer. curse. get tattoos. fall in love, then fall back out. pack up their **** or pack up yours. or maybe leave it all behind. ride a carousel. wear a push up bra and steel toed boots. tell ridiculous lies to people you'll never see again. make funny faces at children when their parents aren't looking. give presents often. challenge yourself to learn a new language. then learn two. leave the cabinets open, and fill them with dishes that don't match. not even a little bit. compliment old ladies. make paper flowers. write love notes. walk slowly past grave yards. get your hands ***** be shameless and loving. own your mistakes. learn from them. even if you have to make them more than once. be courageous and content. stand up for yourself when you need to, be kind- even to yourself. and if someone gives you a reason to smile, make sure you do it. often.
Oct 16, 2012
Oct 16, 2012 at 6:18 PM UTC
not in the usual way with
bent knee and bowed head
but with nag champa and cd inserts, with
deep reds,
plastic costume jewelry beading and safety pinned rips.
it was post cards and cigarette ash
with Kroger's box dye in
rusted orange.
staining our fingernails. didn't matter. we painted them in
neon green and chunky glitter. we stayed up late and wandered
laughter like a shattered diamond breaking into a million stars and thrown out over such a welcoming ivory towered
night sky.
and itallian food households with those noodles in jars.
looking up.
it was Billy Corgan telling us he'd
sing along.
it was memories that aren't even mine. cut in my eyes.
it was blunt bobs and pixie haircuts. it was cut necklines and walking on air. giant chain necklaces and whispered chap-lipped secrets.
endless folds and bottomless love
in a deliciously musty floral hat box.
you're just low end in
loving apathy.
and i'm absent in my own life.
it was an interruption so unspeakably painful.
doesn't seem so hard to revisit.
but i can't.
May 3, 2012
May 3, 2012 at 6:20 PM UTC
not another soggy wind pipe sonnet
curb side prophet
fodder.
and i keep leaving shadows of you
on
the doorsteps
of everyone that's loved me since.
i can't throw it away
and, god- believe me
when i say i've tried.
Apr 13, 2012
Apr 13, 2012 at 11:48 PM UTC
i will write you a happy poem
i will stitch it together in delighted diligence.
i wont clean behind the doorways with it
and i will keep it from the dirt and cobwebs.
and i wont bring up
what i shouldn't.
i will pick out the maggots
wriggling
with my teeth if
i need to.
and i will dress the ****** stumps in
gorgeous, coral lace. (which will only stain a little.)
heaving.
i will write you a happy poem, tucking in the rotten bits.
with high notes in
sandalwood and orange blossom.
it will have showers of sweet nothings exploding
in crystalline pink bits of
cellophane
that might stab in your eyes.
people will call it exotic and intoxicating.
i'll dot my "i"s with *******
little, red-ruby hearts
so small you cannot see
the microscopic hairline cracks. (i promise)
i will painstakingly polish it
in earnest.
all spit shine and black lacquer.
sticky chinned grin
and flushed cheeks from
love
or screams
or something like that.
....and i know,
i'll wrap it up tight in ribbons. crimson.
fresh like a heart that has only just
stopped.
just sliced and steaming.
my perfect ingredients.
and i will tether it from me
to you.
Feb 23, 2012
Feb 23, 2012 at 11:24 AM UTC
obstinate ghosts in creaking rooms.
burgeoning in spaces of quiet provocation.
a staggering spin of sawdust choking down a bad wrap,
licking it's dry lips, seedy tongued.
sighing deeply////but not
giving in.
atrocities unforgiven.
your history housed
in scars undeparting. .
Feb 22, 2012
Feb 22, 2012 at 11:56 PM UTC
i held you still- fearing you mistook parts of me
for parts of God
held my breath because i guess
being here meant more to me
than being mistaken for Omnipotent
or safety.
let your heart beat
a fragile little bird fluttering in it's cage. heart cage. rib cage.
i think you were moving too. counter rhythm. restful momentum.
i wasn't trying to trick you. or trap you.
but,
i gave myself this moment.
and godhelpme- i don't regret it.
later
in windfall and disquiet
it was still me that you came to.
me.
Aug 24, 2011
Aug 24, 2011 at 1:10 AM UTC