"To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die"


You blossom

Your warmth
glows

Under my touch

And I can’t keep my
fingers from

Tracing poems

Across your skin

As my eyes travel
deep into

Yours

And drown

The sweetest death

I could have
imagined

I am a total wreck of a person
A five car pile up stuck on the side of the highway
Windows caved in and smoke billowing
The ambulance is on the way
To pick up all of the fragments that are
Left on display and to
Remove all of the glass that has the
Potential to pull at my insides and
Tear me apart.

I am torrential rain in the middle of night
The lightning cracking across the sky and
The winds whipping through and breaking the branches that land on your porch or
Crash through your front door and
Leave puddles behind that you have to clean up in the morning
I am falling and pouring and
I am terrifying to those few who
Still hear their own screams in the thunder
And who know what the rain feels like
When it leaks from your eyes and
There is no drought in sight.  
The flooding that drowns from the inside out.

I am an icecream cone on a hot day,
I melt easily in the sun but
You cant resist me,
Three scoops of chocolate and vanilla and strawberry,
An assortment for the assorted,
The sticky sweet sugar on your tongue,
The rush of cold going straight to your head and
Causing a headache
Press your tongue to the roof of your mouth
And hope the pain goes but
When it finally does,
You take another bite and there's that cold again
The desire you can't quench so you
Lick and lick and lick
Despite the repercussions because
You like the way I taste.

I am a dandelion flower waiting to be picked
Waiting for wishes to come from someone's lips and
Feed my seeds so I can explore
But i am easily torn from the ground, out by my roots, without my choosing to
And i am easily cut down by blades pushed by those who dont
See me or
Dont care
And I am easily tossed aside once all of
My seeds have taken every wish to
Their destination and I am just a ****
And I will turn brown and rot and disappear
and will be forgotten.

Floating in a world destined to be
neatly labeled and stacked on shelves
in the back of the pantry,
settled in nice and snug,
Im the awkwardly shaped fruit
that you cant cut and seal.  
I stick into fingers like
diabetic pin needles
and make blood bloom on your hands
when you try to sort me.  
If you get past my rough exterior
I have a hard shell that cannot be
cracked simply,
you wont get through that easily.  
My structure refuses to bend and break
at the touch of those who
find love only in words on fragile pages
dictated by men with silver tongues
and false embraces.  
I am the fruit that was bitten into by Eve
on that fateful day
from the forbidden tree,
sexuality.  
I am not so easily stored into
nice compartments,
brand new tupperware arrangments
that find a home in the
cold confines of your refrigerator.  
I cannot stand the cold or the dust
of your kitchen appliances or cupboards,
I cannot sit quietly with the
tucked in things, the organized,
and mantained items.  
My juices, when open, stain and drench
all surroundings
despite the care you take in handling
and I will ruin your precious dress.  
I am volatile, I am awkward,
I am beautiful, I am inconvenient,
I am art.  
I am the awkwardly shaped fruit that you
cant cut and seal.  
I am real.

Depicted as an addict for your afflictions, emotionally evicted, my ****** expressions are cryptic
I am absent.
I am a shoe without a sole or a tongue, hung over lines for everyone to see
I am absent.
"Perhaps CAPS is the best place for you." As time elapsed I couldn’t grasp the concept
Replaced the laces with stems from flower vases, It’s less about the material and more about the release
I am absent.
Adept at adapting to your feelings even when I can’t feel a thing, I’m already a ghost
So why is my lack of spirit haunting me? The somber face in the mirror sends shivers down my spine
I am absent.
In my head I find serenity in screaming obscenities, but to your face I timidly say, "It’s fine."
I find serendipity in finite extremities, they seem to be the only thing I can understand
Just give me an ending in transcendent tendons, I am fingertip dependent with a penchant for physical tension because...
I am ---

I wrote my thoughts
On parchment as soft as your skin
Hoping I would finally
Feel something again.
With ink as red
As the blood of your lips,
Oh darling how,
Did we end up like this?

I wish you wouldn't look for me in my poems
Contrary to popular belief,
I wish you would look for yourself in them