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Amelia of Ames Oct 2021
She is so demanding
No pride, just begging

Haughty kitty
You have food
Quit your mewing
Amelia of Ames Apr 2022
Kissing hard, hungry, ragged
Breathless not from the ride over
But the anticipation finally met

I'll do anything to sate it
I'll do anything you say to
Complete control
Freely, eagerly given
Amelia of Ames May 2022
You say this is goodbye until September
We plan ideas for the future
But we're spilling our secrets
As if we know it's the last time
We'll see each other again
Amelia of Ames Apr 2022
I surrounded myself with people
And still felt lonely
My phone in my lap
In case you text me

I don't think I can handle this
I want to, badly
If I had any confidence
I'd be the one to end it
I hate being the forlorn lover
Amelia of Ames Jul 2016
I have a hard time
linking words to emotions
and emotions to actions
and all this to meaning.

I'll slowly build up
my library of feeling.
But I wonder exactly
what I was missing.

When I scrutinized us,
I did so without seeing.
I thought I knew all.
I saw my own meaning.

Life doesn't have meaning;
what it does have is people.
Now I say what I mean,
and I listen to feeling.

I've struggled with friends,
with parents, and with brothers.
I knew motivations
without knowing them.

Now I start to see people.
We're closer together.
Done connecting the dots,
we connect to each other.
Amelia of Ames Jan 2018
Don't give me all your kissing treaties
Don't pry my heart open.
Maybe I was better off
Sipping waters from my dreams.
Now ****** shores are all explored
Looted, torn and left to burn.

This land left an isolate isle again.

For a time I thought my soil had healed.
Then I saw rain for seven days.
My eyes are leaking again
And the ground proves still unsteady.
Floods return in an instant
At a whisper of Celtic ballads in the wind.

I have layers, sediments.
The undergrounds bump unevenly, uncomfortably
Uncovered in areas of sunken swamps and ponds
Sometimes discovered, but mostly revealed
To strangers who are not kin
To kin who should not find them.

Do I dare be found again?
Do I want to be conquered?
Laid claim to, or too much my own?
Shall I remain alone?
Perhaps, it would be better
To sink quietly beneath these waters.

                                                        ­                 Goodnight.
Amelia of Ames Jul 2016
On a scale of 1-10, 1 being the lowest and 10 being the highest:
1. How cute did my **** look as I walked home from school?
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
2. How old must a girl be before you catcall her?
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
3. How many miles is a girl allowed to travel from her home before she is a target?
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
4. In this deadly hot summer, how many layers must a girl wear to protect herself from your cries?
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
5. How many times has this method of courtship ever been effective?
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
6. How many boys does a girl need in order to protect her from you?
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
7. How many times has someone catcalled your mother, your sister, your daughter?
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
8. If unable to answer Question 7, how many times have they come home crying, holding their clothes tight to shield themselves?
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
9. How many letters are in my name?
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

I'm sorry. That last question was unfair.
You would never know my name because,
despite all the curses and jeering,
you never once asked for it.

My name is @@@@@@.
I am not your "baby."
I am not your "**."
I am not your "****."
I am me, and I belong to no one.

10. How likely are you to allow me to not be anything else?
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
*Please note that this poem is not an attack on the entire male gender, or even sexually mature adult males.
This is a poem in defense against the many men and boys who casually fling ****** assaults out their car windows. This is a poem created to make us think about how common this problem of casual objectification is, and how far we have really come as a developed society if it still exists. If this poem seems like a whine about my insecurities, note who this poem is addressed to. This is for them, not for me. To these men, I am nothing more than a target, a source for cheap laughs. No matter how confident I can be, how safe I feel in my own skin, I cannot change their very different impression of me in the instant they drive past.
I want to challenge their perception where I can, and I want this poem to reflect the process back at them while using the very common rating system that people use to judge shallow physical beauty.
Amelia of Ames Aug 2022
Do I act like a chameleon
With the color that you'll like on?
Can I let myself relax?
And just be me with all the lights on?

Do we talk about our parents?
Do I tell you who I'm dating?
Do you let me in your house?
Do you ask me how I'm doing?

Do you invite me out in public,
Or do you keep me in your bed?
Do we call? Just text? How often?
Will you let me hold your hand?

Do you tell me that you love me?
Can I trust you with each layer?
Do I feel confident directing you
To do what I desire?

I would give
All of me
Excited for connection

You have my love so
How 'bout you
Let me in
Your heart just, be open
Amelia of Ames Apr 2022
I want to write a song for this city
Sing it to my family, they’d understand why I left them
Sing it to the natives, and they’d roll their eyes
Sing it to the brownstones, and they’d echo heavy replies
Sing it to the innovators, and they’d see the cloth they hem
Sing it to myself, and I’d realize I live the life I dreamt

I want to write a song for this city
As many have before
Because I walk the same cobbled streets
As mythic tales of yore
Amelia of Ames Nov 2017
Why am I scared of myself for myself?
Why do I have such conflicted desires to be desirable, be desired
and destroy myself,
see the ugly, hide from the eyes who would see me?
Perhaps it would make more sense if you witnessed:

the invitation to Thanksgiving dinner
the brush of his hand on my knee
the same hand guiding my back around
the good food and home
the message thanking me for coming
and commenting that his girlfriend thinks I'm hot

Or rewind to every spring break
as a child
receiving lessons from the best musicians
"They're ***** old men who like a beautiful young girl next to them,
don't worry they know your father will keep you safe,
treasure the education you are given."

Let me giggle cutely as you leer
Let me cry quietly in my room
Let me wear my pretty frilly bouncy dress for you
Let me rip my face to shreds when I stare too close in the mirror.
Let me count my blessings for you my saviour
Let me count my calories for a slim figure

I've never felt pretty enough
I've never felt skinny enough
I've never felt good enough
I've never felt clever or proud or smart enough
Except to be used
By me using you using me again.
Amelia of Ames Sep 2018
The aliens who had teleported into my room asked me a question.

        When had I last seen the stars?

I answered truthfully that I’ve stayed up late many nights, when the stars come out.

“But when had you last seen them?” They insisted.

It wasn’t for stargazing that I was up late, I admitted to them. Besides, there’s too much light in the city for the stars to shine here.

It must have been several years ago, when I was a little girl and my father showed me Orion’s belt, the last time we were camping in the middle of nowhere.

         They teleported me to space.

The stars were gone. And I hadn’t noticed.

       They teleported me back to my room, because there was nothing to see. I went back to my studies. It was still night.

Three tears dripped out of my eyes. I finally stared out of the window as they fell.

Orion’s belt shone brightly back at me.
Amelia of Ames Sep 2021
"No one cares"
Is a lie

"I forgot"
Is ok, most of the time

"I'm not like I was"
Is true for better as well as worse

"It's getting worse"
Is only a perspective

If you want something to happen
You have to care
You have to put the work in
You've got this, and they've got your back
Amelia of Ames Mar 2022
I dread sending a friend one text back,
And yet I restrain myself from texting him each day?

Stupid hormones
Stupid brain

How could you be so desperate
Selective in your end to loneliness
Amelia of Ames Dec 2022
When you break my heart, it will be worth it, because you made me feel the whole of it again
You poor deprived boy, you are the tragic one to not feel the awe of love
While you see in me a book that has opened its pages for you
I see in you our happiness, our selves, our life
I feel like a medium
I feel like a clown
I feel like the worst *****
Who sold herself for her heart, in the rush of a holiday sale
I feel like I am stripped naked and returned to a truth clothed by logic and scorn
I trust you to care for me when you break me
You sweet beautiful thing
Bombyx mori, or silk worms, almost never reach full maturity. They are boiled alive in their larval stage, for their cocoons to be used to make one of the world's most prized, soft, sensual fabrics.
Amelia of Ames Jul 2022
After all the pain he's caused me
The thought still invades,
A beautiful nightmare

Does he love me?
Does he love me?
Does he love me?

A meaningless question
That'll only cause me pain
Neither of us will allow change

My therapist said that
I would still be awesome
Even if I change my dreams in for him

It's my choice, as well as his.

My boyfriend said that
He is trying to manipulate me
Because he wants to keep me around

It's my choice, as well as his.

My friend said that maybe
He keeps me as a FWB rather than one of his casual relationships
Because he'd want all of a relationship or none with me

It's my choice, as well as his.

It's my choice, as well as his.
It's my choice, as well as his.
It's my choice, as well as his.

And he is a passive aggressive
Egotistical child of a man.
Amelia of Ames Jul 2022
I wish I'd be taken in someone's arms
It could be his
It could be my mother's
It could be God's
Any would be a comfort
Amelia of Ames May 2022
Get on the trolley!
Oo at the statues!
Let's be tourists
For this city
Amelia of Ames Sep 2021
I walked towards a new place
Where I could climb, and yet had never been before
At once, I was gone

I was in a loose line of souls
Waiting for the devil, Hades
He had taken me here early

He had gone to the human world
Where he fell for me
And he had no care to wait for me to join him

I begged him to take me back, angry to lose my life and my climb
He ignored me, but his helper hinted
If I failed his test, I could leave

I didn't know how to fail without angering him or seeming fake
A test of probability, I passed 9 out of 10
Why couldn't I be a better actor? The right kind of failure?

He made me stay with him as he went back to the human world
To spend time with my grieving family as his human persona
As they cried, it dawned that I was losing them too

I was unable to touch them, comfort them
No one comforted me
He ignored me, **** him

He remarked, humanly, that he had made some money to build a bird house
Sharing a small goal achieved with his houswife, his captive
As he took my life, my love, my climb

I woke up crying, choking from the hold of my devil
Amelia of Ames Apr 2022
Grounded mind
Ascended body
Jelly arms
Jelly legs
Amelia of Ames Apr 2022
Crisscrossing lines of analysis
Theology, ethics, songs
Your movements and mine

Laughing at jokes
I can't tell her, but can him
Reflecting on the others's choices

All of us tied together
In conversation
Knot too tight, nor loose
My brain is filling with the different threads of conversation I'm part of
Amelia of Ames Oct 2021
I wake up and the day begins

The sun rises
The cup empties

I go back to bed

The shadows change
The clock ticks

I get up and try again
Amelia of Ames Sep 2021
Whatever is the matter?
Pitter patter

Go away

I'm only getting fatter
More dreams shatterd

Every day

Nope, your stomach's gettin flatter
No more chatter

Come out and play


Amelia of Ames Dec 2017
Tell me,
If I'm not gay
Does my
Heart break
Knowing that
She's gone?

Listen to me,
When I say
Who I love is
No consideration of yours
And raising me
Did not give you
The right to
Constrict my heart.

I wish you would
Stop complaining
That you can't
Talk freely to me.
It's your thoughts
That need to change
When you hurt me like this.

The daughter of
The woman raised
By a gay brother.
Your daughter.
Amelia of Ames Oct 2021
Marie Antoinette historian
Squeezed into a never too tiny house
Up next in my watch queue
Out of touch, but still at my fingertips

Bored, distracted, lonely, overwhelmed
I'm thinking about cutting it all down
Still watching a Met fashion commentary
Man dismissing neckline of dignitary

A girl at a screen staring
Scratching and picking
Mind blank but running
Remembering nothing

Just upload me already
Amelia of Ames Aug 2016
Don’t think too much
About forbidden touch
Or legal abuse of such
Little creatures like dairy cows and fabric workers.

Don’t feel too much.
The homeless man with his crutch
Can disappear, hush.
Turn your head dear, eat McDonald’s chicken fingers.

Don’t love too much.
Why on real people crush?
People slip through your clutch.
As flashing lights reanimate Rihanna, both your eyes close the shutters.

Our world distracts us from seeing,
Persuades us we need a break.
Deserving one after a day going nowhere.
Turn the TV on to the latest ‘Bachelor’.

So loud. So loud. So loud. Too loud!
I shut my eyes from the too-bright lights.
I need to escape the escape, to find solace.
I put pen to paper and hear its whisper.

Poetry softly roars while TV screams shrill.
You’ll remember the written words for time
Degrees of magnitude than you’ll remember
(consciously) that singing cat meme.

Real love takes more effort
Than a heart reaction on Facebook.
Writing truth takes longer than re-posting.
Yet I want to share myself, not another gif lol.

Mute the volume for a second.
Can deaf ears hear again
the music of
the pen?

Think too much.
Amelia of Ames May 2022
In lust I trust you
In love I cannot
But one is more seductive
Than the other thought

My love offered me candles
One smelled just like you
My body responded in a gasp
I wanted, then refused

My dear he loved me sweetly
And I wished that he'd be you
I wished that he would ravage me
The way you used to do

My sweet says you're a ******
I could only nod, agree
But my mind is still enveloped
You will not set me free
Amelia of Ames Nov 2019
Once again
I’m the *****
For not being
Your Barbie doll
Amelia of Ames Jun 2022
My mother shook her head sadly
As she mourned my brother
The pain
And the anger
With which he's set himself aflame
A bonfire continuing
Since he came to first grade
He was sent to the principal
For a peeing contest with friends
Though the teacher'd let me be
When I'd cheated and lied on tests
I was the good child
The first child
The straight A
He was the ugly middle
The one who couldn't be saved
The more he misbehaved
The more they wrote him off
The more they wrote him off
The more he wrote off school
They told him,
'Why can't you be more like your sister?'
'I remember her still'
The more they asked him
The more he hated me
My mother tells me that
He used to adore me
I loved my teachers
I respected them greatly
I couldn't understand him
My mom coaxed him and fought with him
While saying it was fate
I'd always be the good one
He'd never get straight
The lazy one, the black sheep
He couldn't be helped
How more could she bother
A sad muscled whelp
In our distance, in time
We grew to hate one another
Every morning in high school
We would have to disturb the other
To have our father
Take us to the bus together
Every morning in high school
Became a battleground
'Why can't you wake up?'
'Why can't you leave me alone?'
'Please don't make me late again'
'Shut the fck up you btch'
He shot from his den
I left for college
He didn't get in
I came back for Christmas
The flame relit then
'You'll never become a musician
If you can't show up on time'
He told me never to speak
Hand across my windpipe
I left upstairs sobbing
Wanting punishment for his crime
When I mentioned police
My mom turned on a dime
'You've done this to each other'
What could I have done, Mother?
I was only always the good one
He was always the Devil
He's hurt each of us
He hates each of us, though me in special
I've seen him assault
Each of us but our father
His life is a trap
He trudges through wearily
I'm the only one
Who will go to therapy
My mom, shaking her head
Burdened so heavily
Though she has her part
In our play of tragedy
I ask her if she would
Seek mental help too
She says, 'Why?
I'm fine dear
There's nothing to do
I've got my friends
To talk about this sort of thing to'
Equating them to a doctor
Defending her innocence
Leaving me be
The sacrifice again
The focus of his hate
The good little lamb
Go save the world
Leave us
At home in bedlam.
Amelia of Ames Dec 2018
When my brother
Slams me
On the cabinet
His arms on my neck

It is the fault of our cultures
The years we’ve spent chipping at each other
***** *****
He with curses and volume
Me with ivy vined words

When I come back from the Ivy tower I’ve gardenened
When he come back from his wall of sound

My words are more poisonous
His anger is more violent
We tear each other apart.

Though you may go off to become an adult, by sad alchemy you may grow to be even more skilled at being different. Seeing each other again you transform into children with adult bodies and deadlier weapons.
Amelia of Ames Jul 2019
Last weekend, I climbed Yosemite.
Last night, I went to a bar for the first time.
Today, my boss reminded me to send a presentation draft.
This morning.
This morning.
This morning, the boy who nearly ***** me months ago.
He sent me an email, so I wouldn't have to see him.
I've left it marked unread, despite reading it twice.
I don't know what or whether to respond to him.
I don't know what I'm supposed to feel.
This was months ago, and I haven't thought about him in at least a month.
He writes that he didn't apologize earlier partly for fear of making things worse.
Is this "things made worse," this panic and reminder?
Dear boy,
I know how you felt then, and I don't know what I feel now.
Thank you for the apology.
I don't know if I can forgive you.
I hope you are well.
Best wishes.
Not meant to be polished. An exercise in processing.
Amelia of Ames Jun 2018
Leaving them never gets easier
Friends and family, teachers and babysat kids.
When you live apart from them
You live in two different worlds

The world
                                  where you are
                                                      The world
where your heart is

When you love people and things in both worlds
Remember you'll visit the other
Forget that their lives will have changed
You have to keep your mind here                for now.
Amelia of Ames Mar 2022
Thank you for being forthcoming
Let's go!
Just got out of the ocean dripping in water and sweat
Tell me more how you miss me
Dummy dummy dummy dummy heart skips a beat
Amelia of Ames Jul 2017
It is when I intently idly
Walk in the woods,
By the stream,
On the grass,
Over high mountains,
That I find a peaceful place.

A place where I look down at
Sunflowers, rising
Butterfly wings, fallen
Earthworms, crawling in
The soil.

The soil.

The soil I plant my feet in,
A part of a huge whole.
It greets me heartily.
This soil of my soul.
Inspired by a tour of the Marsden Hartley's Maine exhibit at the Colby College Museum of Art. When describing Hatley's connection to Maine, the tour guide mispoke about Hartley's feeling of "coming out of the soil", then corrected herself to "coming out of the soul of the place". I love the closeness of the two words "soil" and "soul", and find this closeness personally true in my own connection to the earth and spirituality.
Amelia of Ames Mar 2018
I put my hair up today
Standing with grocery bags tucked under my arms,
Pearl earrings nestled just so out of the whisps of hair,
I stared hard at the mirror
I looked like...
Like an adult.
Prepared, studied, not so pale and flitterfly
I took down my hair
And then fastened the pin again.
I closed the mirror I realized I longer looked in for hours.
It was time to buy groceries.
Amelia of Ames Dec 2020
The voice in my head
Called my phone
I picked up because the number said "Mom"

The voice in my head
Asked me what I was thinking
Un-friending a man who made me uncomfortable

The voice in my head
Wouldn't let up
When I said I didn't want to talk about it

The voice in my head
Got upset
When I hung up on it

She threw away my gift to her, and left me with hers.
She says I don't treat her like I do my father.
My father was the one who fished my gift to her out of the trash.
He tries to save us, quiet us.
Me and the voice in my head.
Amelia of Ames Jul 2022
Instead of saying 'Sorry'
All you give are more excuses
Me asking that I'm safe
Makes you feel uncomfortable
You've never broken my limits?
Oh I could list a few times
You need some time from me
Obviously not a punishment

I know what you are
I've known for a while
But I was hoping I could avoid this
If I just played along

Until... I couldn't
You'd crossed a line
And thought I would let it slide
Like every other time

But your grasp on me
My abuser
My love
Amelia of Ames Mar 2018
I am day
And you are night?
If we lived in a life of dusk,
Then, perhaps we could stay together.
But sunsets can be only magical, transient moments.
Amelia of Ames Apr 2022
If you can hold tight to the wave of pain
Perhaps it's true that eventually
You make it to shore
Am I over him?
Amelia of Ames Nov 2022
I want to tell you that I love you.

“I love you,” isn’t necessarily a romantic sentiment. “I love you,” can mean all types of things.

I want to tell you “I love you,” because it feels important to tell people that they are loved, and someone telling you directly that you are loved by them seems like it could give a lot of comfort.

Though if you panic instead, that doesn’t seem like it would bring comfort.

I suppose my urge to tell you “I love you” is an urge to wrap you in the burning thought of a strongest hug.

I want to convey that I think you are worthy of care, that I want you to feel loved, that you are beautiful, that I am so glad I have you in my life, that you push me and comfort me in ways I’ve never gotten to explore, that I would be there for you if you let me.

I want to give you a kiss on the forehead and see you smile, pleased and content.
Amelia of Ames Mar 2022
I reach into myself
Find the tiny strong voice
Who knows who I am

Present in the moment
Assured in all my actions
Aware of all my value

An un-earthed superpower
I'll grow to become her
The strong woman inside me
Amelia of Ames Jun 2022
I swear my kisses are innocent
But you take them in so deeply
My breath catches
Your hands tighten
And we are lost in each other
Amelia of Ames Sep 2021
Perhaps my new productivity method
Should be to have an urgently pressing
Other thing needing to be done

Academic paper deadline?
Seven poems
Two photoshoots
One singing practice
And a gourmet dinner
Amelia of Ames Sep 2017
I thought this loneliness was over.
I thought a year ago I learned some incredible lesson.
I remember it feeling so wonderful.


I wish I would stop talking about myself.
I wish I could communicate without bragging.
I'd say this is a list of resolutions but


I can't smile without a motive
I can't hear someone talk without thinking of theirs
I feel like they're usually motivated by hatred, lust, disinterest.


I know nothing about these people.
I should stop making assumptions, but
I keep thinking how last year's 'epiphany' hurt me.


I was so vulnerable, so gentle and sweet, someone had to shatter me.
I tried again and again more feebly to learn the lesson
I was crushed each time more easily by hatred, lust, disinterest.


I have another chance here, the best chance anyone could have.
I can't believe someone would give it to me.
I wonder how good an actress I must be for them to have believed.


I want a cram session of reviewing that lesson.
I want to be shaken back into that vulnerable, feeling self.
I have a new life I could give that self, a fitting gift.


I met a beautiful boy, a vegetarian rock climber violinist environmental engineer.
I'm going through the motions because he is an incredible match, only
I can't put the spark back in my eyes, let alone light his beautiful


I'm done with I.
Amelia of Ames Aug 2016
Packing my life into little boxes
Did I forget something?
I caress parts I can't take with me.
People, cats, bed are staying.

It's 2,000 miles away
What I wanted but also not.
They'll be there for a phone call,
but still far out of eye shot.

And I know that it's time.
I've done all I needed here.
Time to go, so why cry
When it's time to disappear?

The suitcases are full.
Soon to go out the door.
I'm left feeling hollow.
I've left my fears on the floor.
Amelia of Ames Feb 2017
You might be dead tomorrow.
The weapon might be your own.
I wish you'd stay to see though
That it will be okay.

"No it won't!" you cry,
But I need you to realize
There'll be another beautiful day:
Trees and books and stars and hugs will be here still.

One day you will die.
Another day I will too.
There'll come a day when Earth will sigh.
The planet will end shriveled and weathered.

I love this world with all my heart,
and I love you with another.
But when the galaxy falls apart
something will keep walking.

Somewhere out there will be mind-shattering beauty, and
It will be more than okay.
I wrote this while my boyfriend and I were both in depression funks. In trying to care for him, I felt this peace settle on me that eventually the bad time would end. This poem was originally meant for him, but even after we've broken up I come back to it. Every time I do, it reminds me that ends come and there will always be good.
Amelia of Ames Oct 2021
Does my body change
Or my view of it

Sometimes panic
Other times disinterest

Rejection of change
Rejection of the present

Thinking back to a past
Skinnier and dying
Thinking to ideal future
Slimmer and healthy

I weight lift every day
But I don't feel stronger

I want to be strong
Muscles and focus
I want change
Where I am in control
Amelia of Ames Apr 2022
Falling for someone?
How embarrassing
What a stupid person
What an overactive imagination
(Though kicking my imagination into gear leads to me to so much creative output I enjoy. Don't feel too bad for someone with hearts in their eyes.)
Amelia of Ames Jun 2022
Oh it's just that I'm ex-Mormon
Well I like to be in control
Ah, no thank you really
I'm not judging you
I'm judging me
I just don't drink
(or smoke or swallow or shoot)
because I see
My brother,
My uncles,
My grandfather,
The pain it's caused them and their families
My family
Has a history with addiction
I feel in my genes this predisposition
So I'll keep going to bars for
The setting which has been
For millenia in human civilization
I'll keep learning the compounds
Brewing my own mead
But I won't consume
The things that could consume me
Caffeine is my only drug, and yes I know it's an addiction
Amelia of Ames Oct 2016
I dig deep and find
so much gold among
the clutter of man.

But all too often
passion wells up, spills.
I don't ask for love.

I just wanted to be friends.
I'm slowly losing hope that I can find a best friend without ensnaring a doe-eyed boy.
Amelia of Ames May 2022
My heart feels numb, lifeless
And I have to keep it secret
No one can know or understand
What he meant to me

I wish I could shape myself
Become the woman he wants me be
But I'd be abandoning
The life I live, the life I dream
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