the way you
drag
your cigarettes.
so brand new,
every moment,
every conversation
or none at all.
yet you fear
new.
you fear discomfort.
but keeping on,
dragging,
your cigarettes.
as if you are confident you aren't now losing time
when time is the most
precious,
dragging,
detail,
of our every day
opportunities.
Nov 19, 2017
Nov 19, 2017 at 7:49 PM UTC
You were on fire
on fire
and I was weary
I didn't put you out
and eventually
I've let
you
burn
my
skin.
And now I can't rid
of your
smell
like sitting in
a bonfire
but this season
won't be like the last.
Not without your flame.
Oct 21, 2015
Oct 21, 2015 at 11:36 PM UTC
Yearning and
Burning
This sensation of
Forever
Like incense smoke
Dancing
through my
Fingertips
Tripping it's way
In-between
My eyes
Like stardust
Always making wishes
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 2:30 AM UTC
painted skin
chest burst
breaking at the seems
we seem
to have found a love
that never dries
like paint bursts
on paper walls
that tear down
but can be taped back together
temperamental
but oh so peaceful
we have found a love
like paint
so many layers
and always so
vibrant.
Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 1:35 AM UTC
This continuum of anxiety
itching at my lungs
choking for air
like its intangible
distantly shouting
for me to come catch it
the breath
the life
you ****** right out of me
the energy that you drained
from my
veins
as you begged for me to
stay
then left me dry and
shriveled
at the gate
where my demons
lay
waiting for me
to crumble in their
ash writhing
limbs.
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 1:25 AM UTC
the last time your face met mine
it was the last time your face met mine
the last time your eyes would shine
and sing that settling
steady
tune of life
you sang so eloquently.
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 7:09 PM UTC
Your eyes glossed over like
fog
on the windowsill
watching the unsettling
current
where your words were
tossed out
like rocks
to drown
you gargle and gasp
as I reach out grasping
hoping
to pull you to safety
reach for the net
let me pull you into my bed
steady your vessel
let the fog fade to water
and melt down
your face.
your eyes were glossed over
like the gloss on my lips
and I realized
its so unsettling
kissing
the drunken lips
of the poetic
mishap
that may one day
drop down
and hit the floor
where I will be there to
toss
my safety net
or you'll
already
be
long
gone.
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 7:02 PM UTC
I used to string poetry
like linen on wire
so soft, and yet so damp.
My thoughts were the wind
and I could breeze all I could
through the sheets of paper
in my books.
Baskets of washed words
probably stained by the grass and grime
because I used to dig so deep
just to find the right words.
I used to be so fluent,
so inspired and free
I was wrapped in my linen
the sun was all that really spoke for me.
I used to reach up
and the rest would fall.
This was my poetry
and it fell to my desire.
I'm going to string my linen
and let the words return again.
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 8:05 PM UTC
I built a hundred bridges
Just to jump of each one
And as I floated down
And fell
Into the waters that we once
Breezed so slowly through
I realized that the rocks
Beneath the surface
Weren't as vivid
Until they hit the edges of my bones
And collapsed my chest.
These spines cannot take
Any more jumps
And my heart can't take any more
Strikes
This lump in my throat can't seem
To keep itself from
Flairing
While my words can't seem to calm
Me down.
I don't know what I'm trying to say
But maybe one day I will.
Just as long as you remember
What I did say
Is all that really mattered.
Because even though the pages of our books burned and tore at the bindings
My spine never cracked when I said
All the things I did
Without hesitation.
When you read my palms as they intertwined with yours
And when you read my back like it was brail
You open me up much deeper
Into the story
And that will never go
Unread or burned.
Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 10:25 PM UTC
Happiness should be like
Quick trips
To grocery stores
And baking bread
At one am
While we dance
To our
Favorite songs
And talk about our
Dreams
And destinations.
Happiness should be
Togetherness
And honest innocence
No mistaken upholstered
romance
until the night falls
And happiness
Becomes
One.
Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 11:20 AM UTC