I had a funny thought tonight when I saw a shooting star,
I remembered that time in your driveway when we were saying goodnight,
We kissed and hugged and kissed some more,
Then you looked at me and promised that you'd love me for forever,
I laughed and said "you too" because you'd said that a million times,
I'm not sure why but then I think we both felt kind of sad,
Maybe it was that we loved each other so much that it hurt,
But then you looked at me and said "look up at the sky and count to three, if we see a shooting star it means we're meant to be together forever"
I remembered that tonight when I saw that shooting star,
Then I laughed a little to myself,
I guess I just thought it was kinda funny how I've gone from having moments like that,
To being on Tinder
Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 11:00 PM UTC
It's not the poison that it's poisoning you
Is the reason why you take the poison
Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 10:37 PM UTC
For me, you are Sunday. Today is Sunday,
and tomorrow will be Sunday. Because I am stuck
in gingham yellow sheets, small white saucers
with matching ceramic cups, cigarette ashes
like a crop circle around them as I sip homemade
coffee. The ***** brown liquid sloshing
in the back of my throat, scorching my insides
as I swallow something not nearly as
painful as looking up for an answer to the crossword
and realizing you are not in fact actually there, and your hand
is not on my thigh, tracing the outline of my knee
with your thumb. I am stuck
like a kid on the monkey bars. Deciphering
between reaching my hand out to grab
the next rung or just allowing myself
to fall into the wood chips, welcome
that scraped skin and soil in the worry lines
of my palms. Because calling you,
reaching out to that line, could end with me
face up on my bed staring at the blades of my fan
trying to pinpoint just one to follow around and around
again. Or I could get your voicemail. Or you could
see my number and decide to hang up. How close
were we really anyway?
Or you could answer and we could talk through
how bad the weather is, how we've been doing,
and then get to the poignant silence, that hum
in the background that coils through the wires
into my ear, down the canal, and sinks into my heart
until the pressure becomes too much. Until
I tell you that its Sunday. That I need the 1994
Tony Award winning musical for 3 across, and hopefully,
you'll give me the right answer.
Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 10:22 PM UTC
i feel insignificant
yet i'm certain that everyone's staring
i feel burdened, tethered down
but i could disappear without anyone caring
i feel overwhelmed
and underwhelmed, so sure i'm missing something
at least i think i'd feel these things, if i didn't just feel nothing
Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 10:16 PM UTC
i don't want to be consoled
i don't want cliched advice
i don't want to cope
i just want to not care
about you and her
about the way you'll call her baby
and how you'll give her my words
about how your mom may love her more
and your friends all think she's hot
about how when she stares into your eyes
she might notice my favorite freckle
i don't want to hear it
i don't want to see it
but most of all
i just really don't want to care
Dec 31, 2015
Dec 31, 2015 at 2:58 PM UTC
What I was never brave to say
I never meant to hurt you
I know the pain you felt that day
I wish I could turn back time
But the cogs of the clock don't work that way
I wish I could undo all the wrong
But I hear you have a different tune to play
I never meant those dreadful lies
But I thought I would hurt you anyway
So I'd better do it now so you'd know
That I hurt those close to me afraid that they won't stay
Everyone abandons me unless I hurt them first
But I realise I only hurt more that way
So can you ever forgive me?
I hope it isn't too late to say
I'm sorry for the lies I told that day
Dec 31, 2015
Dec 31, 2015 at 2:42 PM UTC
It was May, but we drove out to the shore
anyway in my big sweater and purple
cotton scarf wrapped around my neck,
holding it up to my chin as we waited
for the heat to start up in the car. My breath
looked like a cloud when I laughed, my lips
two inches from yours as I pulled
you by the strings of your black sweatshirt.
I grabbed two bags of sour patch kids, trying
to throw them sideways into your mouth
as you drove, a scattered trail of neon green
and yellow left on the foot mat under
the wheel, two our three
stuck between the crease in your seat.
I know it wasn't sunny, but I swear it tried
to peak through the overcast, or maybe the gray
sheen of it off the pavement is what made
your face shine. Your black hair looked so cool
on your pale skin, yelling at me to get
my ***** red sneakers off the dashboard. I tried
to write a little poem on your hand
with my fingers as it traced your bones
like a maze while you let it rest on the console.
We played that CD from that band I didn't know
you loved, and I promise I ******* up all the words,
but I just like to hear your try to sing over me.
I made you swear not to splash me
when we tried to let the ocean kiss
our toes, a salty welcome to the love affair
I had with the way you made me bite
my lip when I almost smiled too much
at the way your eyes moved when you talked
about one of your favorite things or about
how big the ocean was and how small
you were, even if you never said it just
like that. I could tell what you meant.
You did it anyway. The water was so cold
on my cheeks, my ribs clashing into one
another like a song my head hadn't had
the time to learn yet. You held them
in place while holding me. You kissed
the summer from my lips and asked
the sun to come out just for a moment
while I made tiny castles out of pink shells
and faded driftwood pieces leftover
from the winter. We ran out of iced tea
so we drank each other in, in layers,
on the sand with our jeans rolled
up to our ankles, letting the mask
of almost blue skies envelope us
in a Saturday afternoon spent
figuring out little things like old
memories or each other's favorite movies.
Dec 31, 2015
Dec 31, 2015 at 2:29 PM UTC
I must have known how
to breathe before I knew you
but now I'm not sure
Dec 7, 2015
Dec 7, 2015 at 9:38 PM UTC
She had starfish in her eyes
And she was eager and impatient
When daydreaming
About being
And falling
In love
And she gave herself
Freely and easily
And found tears
And heartache
More often than not
But she never did break
And you can always find her
At the end of the ocean
Gazing and dreaming
Through her starfish eyes
Dec 6, 2015
Dec 6, 2015 at 10:33 PM UTC
I wish to close my eyes and bask
bask under the warmth of the sun
ignoring the due dates and time constraints
feeling only the warm embrace
I wish to close my eyes and play
to play with the bright reds and oranges and yellows
watch them fade in and fade out.
to squeeze my eyes tightly and experiment
with the different color variations
the tighter I squeeze the darker the reds and browns and blacks
the lighter I squeeze the more yellows and oranges shine through
I wish to feel the wind as well
to feel the wind rush back and forth
throwing my hair against my face
I wish to squeeze my eyes tightly one last time
then open them widely
to see the grass as green as a late June afternoon
to see the sky as blue as a Floridean sea
to feel and see and be at peace
at home
swinging
when I was six
and didn’t have due dates
Dec 6, 2015
Dec 6, 2015 at 12:11 PM UTC