what i need, essentially, is to just transform into a very small creature
preferably with a tail
i would probably wrap this tail around myself when i get sad or lonely
like i am feeling now
i would do that
and feel cozy
maybe if i had a special power as that tiny animal it would be to disappear
so no one could see me
so i could just suffer by self
in small comfort
with my own company
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 3:27 AM UTC
our nomads walk on in the dark
living on walls following trails along our psychosis
laughing, they do
while we trip on cracks in the sidewalk while they,
up above, scoff and point at us, catcalls bouncing off
pavement to ring in our ears [like
the bells of scolding teachers, we as children rapt with attention, those sharp
insulting shrills of old such as daggers to us]
they wear their coats as if they were stars hanging
overhead, shining blinding as reflections off
the asphalt where we drag our insecurities
and while they hold themselves to such an alarming degree as we,
the grave diggers down down down below, stumble over our mistakes
at least we have the decency to learn from falling in the gravel.
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 2:51 AM UTC
You wriggled your way into my wrists
to direct the wind of my pen tip
across the lines of paper I call my home.
And I would watch you
with grey eyes sunk of light
while you would swallow my words
and draw your fingertips along my waist
in harmony we stood like this for long
until you pushed yourself aching from my grasp,
my pen a dagger in your side
and here we stand
miles apart
with our words like worlds between us
and I have never felt safer before.
Feb 12, 2013
Feb 12, 2013 at 10:18 PM UTC
raucous bird
you explode in my chest
silver to hit the ones i hide
in that iron case heart
they're the ones that hurt the most
daunting fox, her courage escapes;
swollen knight to suffer by self;
fallen sun left only to destruction;
holly saint with her selfish scepter;
but trapped there like stars
only left to implode & destroy
they would only ever be free
wandering
my
mind.
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 10:13 PM UTC
Scratches & scars you gave
me that lie beneath my skin
what you stole from me,
that young scared girl
of five, 8 years then I
let it go on, fighting between
sheets, drowning, muttering
about the shapes on the wall
to you
back aches & visits to the
hospitals in my head.
At eleven I was trapped,
while again and again it
happened
mummy at the store
mummy at work
mummy down the hall
cleaning the stove, the dishes
while you choked me with
the fear of family members
with eyes gouged out
to keep me yours.
At twelve I fought back,
told the woman scared shitless
of your skeleton while the people
in dusty suits & squeaky shoes stood
in empty rooms calling my mother
a liar.
At thirteen they decided to stuff
me in a room with you for over
an hour, twice, while women hungry
for my fear sat me in a soggy
blue chair seven feet from you,
they used big words that I had always known
to describe my symptoms
of 'a small, thirteen year old only
trying to please her mother'
while you crossed your legs, mannerisms
I adopted at eight fighting to break
through my facade, with hands folded
in your lap, and echoed the lies my
mama told me you had spat in court
to those hollow lawyers.
they all believed me a liar
and because I waited,
I could save no other.
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 10:02 PM UTC
Hollow, seeking out loneliness
like a fish seeking water
in the ocean that is your eyes
those dead, finned creatures
floating along your irises,
I can feel you reaching for
something to touch
like smoke to my match, that
sad & hungry spider gnawing
at your mouth
frightened & working to
become free.
But what if I caught you
in my glass jar, my forgotten
Promise?
And housed you on the shelf
beside my porcelain skeleton,
my twitching fingertips,
my spellbound mouth?
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 10:01 PM UTC
kind of like a Bon Iver song
she guessed to him
you should be more careful with your words
he nods knowingly
she says things like this quite often to him
**I know
but why should I care what happens to me?**
she sinks to the floor
clutching that tiny black paper heart
alright
alright
he holds his own
in his hands lovingly
may I kiss you?
he tenderly runs a hand across her cheek
it makes me sad
what does, darling?
she lets her eyes linger on his
own pale ocean blue
**seeing you cry
watching your tears fall**
i'm not crying
he says defiantly
**oh babe
your heart is**
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 10:00 PM UTC
Wolf girl
her movement so strange
like she's drowning from
the voices in her head
a psychosis, senses streaking
like words flooded on the
page of her one of her books
thrumming, humming bodies
before her eyes that she
is caught like a disease
and the sedition of her
mind
like a forest in flames
echoes like the last time
she
held
his
hands
and
looked inside him
those worn pieces of concrete
& soot
plummet & plunge
leaving only the boy.
Only
the
boy
who refused to cry wolf
against her
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 9:55 PM UTC
That's the thing about tricking Gods,
they never learn.
Never realize.
It's one thing to bruise their ego
with obvious insult to design,
but to go and act, to lie,
right
to
their
face
and still not be caught,
well,
that makes you the God now.
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 9:55 PM UTC
Water, now I'm drenched
The puzzle piece this
storm has become
both in my heart &
in my head
My room is flooded,
the fish no longer imprisoned
simply in their square glass
free to swim not only
in air but
in my lungs
it's tragic to see
and across the house
my mother is sobbing,
more tears, more water.
Soaked to the bone.
Soaked to the bone.
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 9:54 PM UTC