nairi - Hello Poetry

You were my butterfly lighting sighing, with your eyes 500 miles of space between us and and nothing could separate you from my thighs. That same tongue that loved me transformed itself to a poison barb when he was "too tired to deal with this right now". I drowned in the fluids of your lungs when you became sick of me.

0

Apr 20, 2016

Apr 20, 2016 at 8:28 PM UTC

What To Do With My Ex's Nudes and Baby Pictures

You were my butterfly lighting sighing, with your eyes 500 miles of space between us and and nothing could separate you from my thighs. That same tongue that loved me transformed itself to a poison barb when he was "too tired to deal with this right now". I drowned in the fluids of your lungs when you became sick of me.

9

Tragic smiles and detached frozen shoulders, moats defending castles made of a billion grains of sand This rainy season has left you miraculously dry? And for what? The only points you proved were those that top the bitter spikes that lance from your heart.

0

Jan 29, 2016

Jan 29, 2016 at 11:41 PM UTC

A Thorny Rose

Tragic smiles and detached frozen shoulders, moats defending castles made of a billion grains of sand This rainy season has left you miraculously dry? And for what? The only points you proved were those that top the bitter spikes that lance from your heart.

9

I think it's been a year since I took that road trip with Trevor. How lucky am I that was able to experience such serendipitous, powerful love. The sun setting in Big Sur was every color imaginable, and the beach we stopped on was too real to even describe. I feel so lucky. I keep crying. It was better than anything I could've ever come up with, because it was real. It was nice. I couldn't even allow myself to feel happy, the floodgates were open and joy just poured out of me. That was 1 year ago today. My hair is longer and splitting in all different directions, and I'm beginning to notice how dry my skin is. I don't really take my tea with sugar anymore and I'm worried about how big my **** looks in most pants. I water some plants every day and I get to live in a tiny yellow house. I have lots of friends that I'm extremely grateful for that like ***** and **** and nothing and everything in between or around. My flight back home this morning was short. What can I say, I don't want to talk about it. A little song bird is in my heart and every once in a while I let it sing as it catches on fire. Meanwhile, I think I'm slowly learning how to pet cats. They've got a little scruff around their necks that one can knead and grab. I got everything I've ever wanted

0

Nov 29, 2015

Nov 29, 2015 at 6:32 PM UTC

Untitled

I think it's been a year since I took that road trip with Trevor. How lucky am I that was able to experience such serendipitous, powerful love. The sun setting in Big Sur was every color imaginable, and the beach we stopped on was too real to even describe. I feel so lucky. I keep crying. It was better than anything I could've ever come up with, because it was real. It was nice. I couldn't even allow myself to feel happy, the floodgates were open and joy just poured out of me. That was 1 year ago today. My hair is longer and splitting in all different directions, and I'm beginning to notice how dry my skin is. I don't really take my tea with sugar anymore and I'm worried about how big my **** looks in most pants. I water some plants every day and I get to live in a tiny yellow house. I have lots of friends that I'm extremely grateful for that like ***** and **** and nothing and everything in between or around. My flight back home this morning was short. What can I say, I don't want to talk about it. A little song bird is in my heart and every once in a while I let it sing as it catches on fire. Meanwhile, I think I'm slowly learning how to pet cats. They've got a little scruff around their necks that one can knead and grab. I got everything I've ever wanted

6

My drive to school consists of winding roads and wandering eyes in this town of autumn. There is a layer of undeniable honesty to this season, as if the world at this time has nothing to hide. Something about the fiery death of the maples down Laurel brings life. The chill of the crisp blue sky is palpable from behind dusty glass windows, and zephyrs that threaten needles across your cheek rustle the bones of bushes with no urgency at all.

0

Nov 17, 2015

Nov 17, 2015 at 1:08 PM UTC

Untitled

My drive to school consists of winding roads and wandering eyes in this town of autumn. There is a layer of undeniable honesty to this season, as if the world at this time has nothing to hide. Something about the fiery death of the maples down Laurel brings life. The chill of the crisp blue sky is palpable from behind dusty glass windows, and zephyrs that threaten needles across your cheek rustle the bones of bushes with no urgency at all.

2

Though California's fall has yet to arrive, my chest has yet to thaw.

0

Oct 20, 2015

Oct 20, 2015 at 1:21 PM UTC

Cold

Though California's fall has yet to arrive, my chest has yet to thaw.

1

the October wind whistles through me, reminding me of the many holes that have formed. I'm a chandelier of hair and bones.

0

Oct 4, 2015

Oct 4, 2015 at 7:18 PM UTC

All Hallows' eve

the October wind whistles through me, reminding me of the many holes that have formed. I'm a chandelier of hair and bones.

1

How can it be that a melody can make you feel like you belong and not, all at once? I find myself in a composed dissolution The world can stop, and the ground below me will give way to the sudden awareness of a sensation that is similar to being lost in your own room. Suddenly, this "place" seems very raw Things inside you open up and makes distinguishable where you are where you've been and where you've yet to be. And Sometimes people are like that. Your eyes are where I am Our fights are where I have been, time and time again and finding peace with those two rifts is where I have yet to be. Glaciers could snap and crash with volleys of icy hell fire Soberly frozen earth could nick my cheeks and arms and my cold skin could remain as tout as a tuned string instrument ready to produce sound But, turning inside myself, searching for a bridge to this rift produces a silence so deafening I can hear the humming of stars

0

Sep 29, 2015

Sep 29, 2015 at 3:32 AM UTC

Rifts

How can it be that a melody can make you feel like you belong and not, all at once? I find myself in a composed dissolution The world can stop, and the ground below me will give way to the sudden awareness of a sensation that is similar to being lost in your own room. Suddenly, this "place" seems very raw Things inside you open up and makes distinguishable where you are where you've been and where you've yet to be. And Sometimes people are like that. Your eyes are where I am Our fights are where I have been, time and time again and finding peace with those two rifts is where I have yet to be. Glaciers could snap and crash with volleys of icy hell fire Soberly frozen earth could nick my cheeks and arms and my cold skin could remain as tout as a tuned string instrument ready to produce sound But, turning inside myself, searching for a bridge to this rift produces a silence so deafening I can hear the humming of stars

24

warm wine flowing through my body (Cabernet being ironically the same color as what gives me life) directed me to my room at approximately 11:25 pm that Wednesday. A light in the left corner painting a pleasant and inviting gold I tumble into my queen bed laughter airily escaping my lungs, exhalations of exhilaration Ruffled a string of words into a message. Borne of unadulterated joy and hopeless seclusion, radiation from my center came out of my fingers as **** me like the angel I am. I am true beauty and divinity and deserve to feel like a goddess"

0

Sep 14, 2015

Sep 14, 2015 at 11:35 PM UTC

my queen bed

warm wine flowing through my body (Cabernet being ironically the same color as what gives me life) directed me to my room at approximately 11:25 pm that Wednesday. A light in the left corner painting a pleasant and inviting gold I tumble into my queen bed laughter airily escaping my lungs, exhalations of exhilaration Ruffled a string of words into a message. Borne of unadulterated joy and hopeless seclusion, radiation from my center came out of my fingers as **** me like the angel I am. I am true beauty and divinity and deserve to feel like a goddess"

12

I’m scared of permanence Of any form of an ink stain on a white linen shirt That no matter how hard I try, the scrubbing I do Will not disappear, will not fade One day I will come across a stain that will ******* me And as I attempt to rid it, it will damage me further This shirt I wear, lies lightly on my skin. A second skin. I want to be involved yet fear an embrace Or rather, confuse being held to being held down Wings being clipped, screams that fall to deaf ears that cannot hear because what I fear doesn’t exist… The fear keeps me from playing the game, yes, But can it keep the game from playing me?

0

Sep 4, 2015

Sep 4, 2015 at 7:13 PM UTC

Commitment

I’m scared of permanence Of any form of an ink stain on a white linen shirt That no matter how hard I try, the scrubbing I do Will not disappear, will not fade One day I will come across a stain that will ******* me And as I attempt to rid it, it will damage me further This shirt I wear, lies lightly on my skin. A second skin. I want to be involved yet fear an embrace Or rather, confuse being held to being held down Wings being clipped, screams that fall to deaf ears that cannot hear because what I fear doesn’t exist… The fear keeps me from playing the game, yes, But can it keep the game from playing me?

12

what a strange quiet house I'm in Where i can't even hear myself think Bottle after bottle and the silence ensues I am alone here, and I will be alone here For as long as the vacancy in my chest And the absence of my mind continues ~ I want a house overrun with lavenders for my children to play with.

0

Aug 23, 2015

Aug 23, 2015 at 11:52 PM UTC

Lavender part 2

what a strange quiet house I'm in Where i can't even hear myself think Bottle after bottle and the silence ensues I am alone here, and I will be alone here For as long as the vacancy in my chest And the absence of my mind continues ~ I want a house overrun with lavenders for my children to play with.

9