I used to love
between the promise
of forever
licking fingers -
cheap,
(road) salt fingers.
Midnight fighting fingers
between mine -
falling
fingers.
I miss my cocoon.
My
“don’t worry honey” hammock.
My
rouge meadow princess.
My
Honeysuckle
half full
holy hammock
princess.
Jan 15, 2019
Jan 15, 2019 at 4:29 PM UTC
My love,
this is no promise of forever.
This is only hope
and trial.
policed from earned trust
and bitter tongues,
and concrete
eskimo kisses.
Here lays I,
so I lie quietly,
No need for whiskey on a cold night,
no holy
honeysuckle hammock.
No snow princess.
I promise my paper,
I promise her forever.
And for you,
I promise now.
A partner in killing rose buds,
wilting petals that sing:
“No, look at me
please,
harbor me.”
clear as day,
with no envy.
Jan 15, 2019
Jan 15, 2019 at 4:28 PM UTC
Maybe missing you
is all I’m good for - maybe
I was made for you.
Maybe I live in
visions of past lives - maybe
I was made for you.
Maybe in five years
my body calls you - maybe
I was made for you.
Maybe, you are whole
honeysuckle love - maybe
I am made for you.
Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 10:18 PM UTC
Black girl can’t twerk.
Black girl can’t handle hair grease.
Black girl is half white girl
is
Grey girl
is
White girl on 8 mile
is
Black girl in cop cars
is
Not black enough
is
Basking under the “Yes, there are black people in Portland” sign.
Black girl’s dad left
so white girl sits at Mormon thanksgiving.
Black girl says “wus good” to
wake up
and work with
within “welcome
to Starbucks
what can we get started for you today?”
White boy says “you a real *****
Black girl turns around and says
“I already know.”
You’ve told me my whole life,
You’ve never let me forget it.
Black girl
ties my hair scarf at night.
White girl does not fear the rain in the morning.
Other white girl tells me she’s
“only ******* black girls after me.”
I. white girl answer back
“umm that makes me uncomfortable.”
Grey girl has the Beatles tattooed on her left arm,
Stevie wonder
in progress
on her right.
Black girl was not adopted
from white Momma,
grew from her womb,
still carried out misunderstanding.
Black girl wonders why white girl stays silent so often.
Black girl is screaming at herself in the mirror
too scared to scream for Jason Washington
even
too scared to scream for Trayvon
too scared to scream for anything.
We forgot “why are you always stopping me”
but remember “I can’t breathe”.
Only black boys last words are worth remembering.
Black girl
hides behind
white girl’s voice in retail and traffic stops
and phone calls.
Grey girl,
Waiting for the phone call.
The
Dad’s in jail brother is dead phone call
The
How dare you let them take credit for you phone call.
When I moved away I was a success story.
I was black magic
Detroit dame not dangerous
city girl
in the good way.
With the good hair.
With
the way in which black girl
works three times as hard
but I,
white girl,
still presents her work.
Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 7:11 PM UTC
This morning I watched a girl’s heart
sink a few inches.
Through the bottom of her stomach,
past the only thing I’m keeping her around for -
It clawed through the crooks in her ankles,
and spilled out onto the sidewalk,
into pools of red,
before sinking into the earth.
My love for you,
engulfing her
suffocating her breath,
smothering out moans of my name.
Suffocating her until “oh gods” turned to
“oh...god.”
My name,
on her lips,
“while I dream about your lips,
on my hips”
like in the poems i wrote you when i was sixteen.
You killed her with memories of your tongue
.
Spitting “I’m so sorry” at me
for the hundredth time.
She died in the echoes of my shouting,
asking you if
“lonely” was worth it.
Was it a good enough excuse?
I’d take you back in a heartbeat.
And now i’m left with a stack of apology letters
unstamped,
headed for the shredder.
Alyssa,
I’m sorry for not calling you back.
I was just writing to ask what gave me away;
Was it my inability to look you in the eye,
or did you hear me whisper her name?
Hannah,
You’re one of the sweetest girls I’ve ever met.
Our time just wasn’t right.
Bryn,
Thank you for coming to see me that night,
after your late shift,
during dinner with your mom,
I owe you one.
You came clear across town to watch me cry,
all because she sent me a letter.
Emily,
God Em,
I wish I could mop your heart back up.
Suction it right back through the arches of your feet,
Guide it through your stomach,
weave through your rib cage,
and land right her within you chest -
where it belongs.
“lonely”
is a good excuse.
Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 2:03 PM UTC
I’d trade a drunken uncle for five years of warmth
For a family rooted in chaos.
Your father recovered
But mine never will (if I can still call him mine)
Envy is a deadly sin
a gateway drug
An invisible mistress
You have hand painted thighs from a boy who rearranged no
We both know him,
though you have been closer.
(LIAR)
But i'm still a fresh canvas,
Maybe a bit tattered, slightly greyed
But clean of self inflicted hatred.
I've never had to invent my own pain.
I know pre-portioned hatred
Another ******
Food lines
Bottled baths
Gunshot lullabies
Shoestring laced telephone wires.
I wonder how it feels to stand on the edge with everything to live for.
“We” don't do that
(even though I've only been halfway accepted as “we”)
I have someone to take care of.
I wonder if sleeping pills would help me too.
Packaged from white rooms with white lab coats and white skin.
I wish I could hide too
I hate that you don't have to
I hate that you'd abandon everything I’ve always wanted.
Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 2:02 PM UTC
It wouldn't be the first time you pulled me away
Helped me lose green eyes
Softness
Freckles.
I’d never admit you saved me
From a breathing sunset
From midnight pain
From overdue essays
From idle hands and blood stained sleeves
Two years later and nothings changed
Except maybe you grew an inch
And I have someone new
I still count everything
Kisses throughout commercials
Staining my neck
I stopped to smell your cologne last week
Risked the sales-associate ambush
considered asking about who you've loved since.
Her hands aren't home.
We’re having dinner next week
At a new diner,
Because our booth isn't ours anymore.
And I hope you kiss me goodbye
Her mouth doesn't know me like yours.
Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 2:01 PM UTC
Dry.
Evaporated from murky green water.
I hate it.
I hate you.
How can one person be strong enough to break an iron dam.
Tapes.
I made her seventeen tapes
I made you one too.
Maybe that’s me giving in.
Seventeen tapes for loving her,
One tape for wanting you.
Maybe it’s comfort, seeing my heart in your smile.
Maybe you woke me up.
I’ll preface everything with maybe.
And my god, how your hair turns to oceans
Sobering.
You’re the strongest high I’ve felt in years.
Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 2:01 PM UTC
(The one where I’m feeling sorry for my cheating ex-girlfriend.0
We met the grim reaper on my 18th birthday.
He arrived to the party, uninvited,
dressed in ribbons
and legality
and student loans.
Driving a silver Sudan
Eminem turned all the way up,
He hard braked in the turn lane next to us,
Skillfully smirking, words pulled back on his tongue like arrows.
ready to strike.
Bullseye.
There I sat, cross faded in your passenger seat, crying for the 50th time over how Brockhampton is like
The best thing to happen to rap since Odd Future.
Singing “who’s got the feeling” at the top of my lungs.
Happy.
I got a kiss at every red light.
No matter how quickly you turned away
Back then red and orange traffic lights were our dancefloor
We stood glowing in our favorite colors
Making up for every touch we could not share at prom.
I thought “god, if this barres me from heaven I’m already here with her.”
I’d heard he always shows up at the worst times.
He, the reaper.
He’d really been there all along
In the smile of the lady at iHOP who invited us to church
In the down turned edges of mouths on waiters faces when I say,
“no, sir, we’ll be paying together”
I saw two girls kissing in the corner tonight and I only wish you were here to see it too.
I beg you come be with me.
Careful pitches “See these examples see what we can have”
Blue blood runs dry when their hearts are still soaked in red,
so no the money isn’t worth staying for.
You’re suffocating in red and right and trump signs.
She’s screaming baby, my love, pretty girl,
You are just too far,
and I am just too lonely.
We spent hundreds of days hating ourselves for loving each other.
Maybe we were too busy hating ourselves to actually love each other
She cannot meet me in the middle when she shackled to the start.
She reminds me of the reaper,
He lives inside her.
In the memories of being called a ****** at Christmas dinner.
Between picking out pears in the grocery store.
In the happiness over a haircut.
Happiness from my hands
Our breakup was not clean or neat or wholesome
It was all tears and excuses and hatred.
I still should’ve been there,
You’re the only one who understood how badly loving me hurts
I know it’s hard to love me.
To be good enough for me.
I haven’t figured out how to be good enough for myself either.
We’re Joking about how you mother thought we sat in circles
Whispering secrets, braiding
instead of pulling hair.
Now I watch as you pull yours out
Because god **** it you’re trying.
White people get away with killing kids all the time
Why would this be any different?
I’m in your passenger seat again
Asking what’s wrong, please answer me.
Where have you gone?
I’m pounding on a sealed casket
Pounding on the earth you lay beneath.
She is silent.
We held each other in pools of tears
Repeating that one day it gets better.
One day.
I feel guilty for living that truth
While you are stuck.
Yet still,
I will smile every June 11th
And wish you well.
I hope you’re still swimming
The creek we loved picked up quite the current.
Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 2:00 PM UTC