you're a vacuum at this point.
you take in all the dirt,
but more often than that
you **** up your great grandmother's pearls.
to tear at one loose seam in the carpet,
and suddenly you're standing alone in a room full of yarn.
time is cold and unforgiving on the crinkles that
used to appear at the corners of your eyes when you smiled.
cold and unforgiving on beautiful hands that now claw at your skin waiting for its fix.
i don't remember what your smile looks like.
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 11:03 AM UTC
the air feels like fire.
it’s cold but there’s something lingering in it
and it burns enough to make you warm.
it envelops you in hundreds of smells, wet pavement, fresh paint, gasoline, salt, the smells of a city alive at night.
heads and ears pulsating and ringing as the hundreds of voices surrounding you dance.
it’s been nine days since a boy was shot in cold blood
by an unpunished officer.
"protect and serve"
there are hundreds of sweating and shaking bodies surrounding your own in a protestor’s dance.
on a crisp night like this, nobody is a singled.
we are one, screaming, angry, and trembling mass.
a man walks by.
usually you would take into account his presence.
you would notice that he was tall, towering over you, or the scar that ran through his thick eyebrow like lightning. usually you’d be gripped by an unintentional fear by his overpowering existence, but tonight it doesn’t matter.
maybe take into attention the tiny pale woman who’s body was shoved into yours, and how her bones jut out like they’re trying to escape. tonight is not that night.
tonight is the night where the streets of portland, maine, and hundreds of other cities around the world
run with sweat and tears.
tonight is the night in which humanity falls like dropping a feather in the wind.
tonight is passion like boiling water from a teapot long ignored.
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 8:41 AM UTC
time tastes a lot like rotting flowers
when your skin is made of clouded glass.
breathing feels much like falling
when you've tasted the outer limits of hell.
laughter mimics broken bells when you've watched thousands of suns sink behind ever-growing mountains.
burial plans begin just when you've begun to stand.
humanity grows cancerous flowers in dying bones
from the moment the human is born.
Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 11:16 AM UTC
forests replaced with corruption and greed,
limbs of trees hardened like hearts.
generations of infant soldiers raised on pills and bills,
grey men with white hair in black suits giving instructions on how to exist.
green paper playing king, white house playing god,
a minimal but calculated color scheme.
an infinity;
the civil war of souls.
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 10:58 AM UTC
and on the plane in which my body lie,
cold and grey, waiting upon an unspoken desire.
vacant and dead, seething an unseen sun.
purity dripping from cold dry lips,
a new beginning for the sky.
stars gather, diving into open palms,
walking unto the light.
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 6:08 PM UTC
a timeless and whimsical love.
standing tall or small in the rain or shine
in her own celestial beauty,
textures painting the world’s first picture like
all the smoke and the
oceans and had come together to dance.
and dance she does, careful in the wind,
a ballet of everything we know.
serving the world with
delicate hands,
expecting nothing in return,
truly the unseen mother.
though her beauty fading with time in the eyes of others,
never for those of us whose hearts are made out of stars.
so an ode to trees,
is surely deserved.
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 10:33 AM UTC
pale european features
contoured with a celestial lack of
sleep and too much coffee.
spun gold falling in unruly curls
from a morbid skull.
eyes like the ocean had met the forest, in a
final attempt of togetherness.
freckles tracing wild constellations,
scars proving an ungraceful demise.
body carved by sorrows,
existence a black hole.
demise an inevitable void.
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 11:18 AM UTC
with time i lost the set notion of your deserving.
if you deserved my sadness and tears and screams
drenching your absence like acid.
but tonight it is strong and maybe i deserve this hell and maybe you don’t deserve my longing but
what’s done is done and
i still hurt.
i’d tell you to come home but i’ve torn it all down and there’s nothing left.
but anybody else isn’t you and deserving is a concept long lost.
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 1:39 PM UTC
i don’t know
what time or what day of the week it is.
but today or tonight or this afternoon i am consumed.
how i can’t
listen to that album anymore
without remembering
how we lie sprawled on my bed as you sang to me and played the strands of my hair like a piano,
singing words of someone much bigger than us who
probably never blinked at the notion of such mundane love.
but still the words bring back waves.
no matter
the time or the day,
i still remember.
and it still burns in the night and they day
and in the afternoon.
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 1:38 PM UTC
i don’t want to talk about it.
i don’t want to talk about how for three years
my morning routine has been prozac and just enough coffee
to disguise the fact that i haven’t
slept in four days.
i don’t want to talk about how
the boy with the subaru coated in grateful dead stickers
loved me and how i ran because of this.
nor about how my birthday is in
19 days
and i still want to die.
another year come and gone.
i am a stranger in my own body.
maps written in a foreign language.
my ship has sailed,
my breed extinct.
going
going
going
gone.
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 12:35 PM UTC