in the ballroom
your eyes like comets
mine like phosphorescent lights
in the humid july sky

our arms moving like seaward ships
caught you stranded amidst the violence
eyelashes that swayed in the wind
you saw me, you asked me to dance

i don’t believe everything is as it should be
it was just a kiss, i don’t think i actually miss you
or maybe i’m slowly getting addicted
to the cadence of your voice
every night, it’s back to that july or was it november weather?

you touched my hand with a fiery blaze that pranced inside that stuffy room
you gave me a glance, i gave you a chance
you could’ve tumbled from the balcony
would my reaction time have been as swift as when you had caught me by surprise?

why am i such a fool?
if it had started with you
we could have fled together like panicked soldiers
from the esteemed battlegrounds their forefathers fought for so their successors could lose their next battles
and get captured and chained against walls

and i wanted you, i was only a husband away from kissing you,
touching you,
impaling you

you were moments away from calling my bluff
it’s enough, i’m in handcuffs
while you stand in the ballroom
your eyes on me like you’re the spotlight and i’m your stage device

we danced like we meant it
would you have given me up for a fairer maiden?
one with less personality issues and without a right hand man?
would you have stopped if i told you that dancing is for ghosts in empty hotels?

i would have died trying in a slashed wedding dress
if the force i called my lover didn’t snag my clothes on his irregular branches

i can’t see beyond these singing cliffs
please kiss me
on the dock of my yacht
i’ll adore you until you ***** me over
or until i ***** you over
and we become ashes on the riverbed
that was the location where my lips touched yours
on the grass
not on the ballroom steps
not with a cigarette in your mouth

you were slipping through the gloves i wore?
i don’t recall, did the background start to get blurry
when you swept me off my feet?
did i panic?
did you love it?
did you notice the electricity escaping from my palms?

i spotted your pupils become lucid
the lights didn’t even change colors
and you danced with some kind of suitor
but i don’t know who you are
or what your motives are
just know that the mirror can only hold evil if it’s as marvelous as you

the patterns of your footsteps in my nightmares or perhaps
in the trances my exhilaration transports me to

are

lurking in the shadows
in the doorframes
the hallways of trains i haven’t stepped toes in
complaints flooding the mailboxes i happen to own

i loaned you my heart as a temporary ornament
you could dangle like candy
in front of adored damsels looking to be courted
i’m becoming the focal point in your daily
struggle to gain power over the situation that sadly owns me

waltz inside of my irises instead of on the floating platform
that is about to crumble beneath the soles of our dress shoes

my conscience buried in the thawing soil

did you lose sight of the plans you foiled?

whistle to the carriage you paid for
open the door for the feeble woman in the backseat
it would have boiled your blood,
and so i would’ve kissed your lips

but ghosts don’t dance in ballrooms;
they just sit
and watch everyone else become brides and grooms
and they feel the tug every single time
the room erupts in sudden laughter
they wait like stubborn angels  
at the noisy soirée
anticipating the collapse of young souls
like me and you

and therefore; the downfall we have will be a spectacle
your disintegration in the mirror will be a quotidian one
as i watch your bones dance in your body like little puppets in a silly drama

catch me when i fall for
the doors i have entered
before haven’t
restored my soul
and i would have kissed you
or even said i missed you
if he wasn’t the person he was
if you weren’t the person you are
and if i was completely unaware of the consequences of mistakenly false coincidences
perhaps i would have put my lips to yours
outdoors
as the creek entertained our obscene selves
and heard our dramatic moans
and groaned
“good riddance”

“good riddance indeed”

our tempers fizzled and the skeletons were evicted from our closets
good causes, it’s my fault—it’s
just that i said all those cheery things to impress you
as if you were Socrates or someone of such high standing;
undoubtedly, you are

but the cliff i leaped off of slowly became you—the ghost in the castle walls
who waltzes with gorgeous girls
just to dream of what it would be like to
kiss them,
touch them,
impale them

i wonder how it felt to be in control
to hold me like i would puncture your skin
like some breed of lovesick vampire

i was only a girl in love with a future
she could not let unfold
because she had a husband waiting at home

waiting for her to slip up
feeling less and less in control

but with your gaze like lightning
ignoring is such a demanding reality
and
i want to kiss you,
i miss you,
this isn’t a petty joke
join me in the meadow
hands in mine
and touch me,
kiss me,
impale me

i’ll find you one day,
dripping peach juice from your chewing mouth.
perhaps you’ll learn to resent me,
learn to forget the mark i left on your spine.
suddenly,
i’m searching for your approval.
i’m finding ways to wind up in your bedroom.
i’m looking for circumstances where we run into each other
and lock eyes in a way only we know how.
i’ll find you one day.
if we cannot have everything,
i’ll at least capture the summer sun in a jar
and give it to you as a symbol of my heart.
suddenly,
i’m creating stories where we see each other on a desert highway
and recall the nights that we danced with forever,
but somehow that wasn’t long enough.
i’ll write poetry that sticks to the back of your throat,
coat my sheets with your memories.
i’ll find you one day,
not searching for me,
content in a lifetime where our lives fail to align.
i’ll find you one day with someone,
and i’ll remember how close i came to being someone to you.
i wonder if she means anything
or if she just represents what you feel you lack.
i’ll find you one day,
at the edge of a bridge,
pretending to fly as you cannonball into the river.
i wish you had loved me with all you were capable of.

i wish you would love me with all you are capable of.

i’m so terrified
of the dawn that creeps up behind this cabin in the woods
i’m so scared of the violent rush of seawater
pinning me to the sandy shore—slamming my body, so rough that my esophagus stops for a second
when there are people in front of me,
i push them away
so violently, so quickly
immediately losing sight of everything in front of me
and i’m so sorry.
what should i do?
watch as the things i wish for fly away into the dark atmosphere?
watch as the flame i ignited dim in front of my very eyes?
i’m decision-less
so perpetually confused
what should i do?
should i love you?

your flesh is brackish and bruised and covered in melancholy
it seems like you work in the coal mines with those oil stains printed all over you
i am worried that you might never return home after you were swooned by some blond chick (pawn) at the rowdy city bar and dazzled her with your charm
i am starving from the core because of a perfidious promise
licking up the crumbs and rummaging through the schemes
locked and loaded like a rifle
but you know i would never fire
cause i am the coward
who fell for your clownery in the first place

i know you have a good heart
your eyes are set on a victim
but perhaps you are broken
a wheel spinning out of control
whiplash
i’m a forgiving pacifist
seeing good fortune in the corridors
of your darkness
is it delusional to give second chances?
you wouldn’t know how to write my eulogy
you’d be tapping the pen
and
sighing
and
giving up
i walk the downtown streets with a frown
and my cheeks get bumpy from the stress

but i know you’re good at heart
and it just tears me apart
because i want to
resent you and your fanatical calls and your abrasive nature and obsessive behavior
and i’m trying to ***** out words
but it won’t let me
i’m mourning my intuition
around you it’s like i almost have none
i’m a delicate wanderer who wants to love you
more than you’ve ever wanted to
appreciate me

it stings like listerine in my mouth
as i try to flush out
the parts of you that taint my pores.
i can’t call you anymore

i lost one ghost inside these sickly-green walls
who makes me
forget how to keep being a human
and i’m pathetic and we’re all pathetic
smiling behind disguises
misguided
and misleading truth
i don’t wanna speak
to you and i know that would hurt to find out
that i don’t love you as i say i do

i know you have a good heart
so just show me it
in the words you say to me
in the conversations we have
just please.
just please.

i wrote you a poem
where i’m scared to say everything
for fear of seeming too open.
where i loved you without embarrassment
or agitation
or sudden fear.
i wrote you a poem
where you were shining—
the sun looked like you tonight—
so i cried
staining ill-fitting clothes
on an ill-fitted body.
i wrote you a poem
where i showed you the admiration
i hold quietly inside
in tender unspeakable dreams.
i have countless dreams
sleepless feelings
of you and to my dismay
i drift to sleep
with your name floating above my forehead like counting sheep.
i wrote you a poem
where you smiled
and your tear drops fell,
up sprouted a garden.
i harvested your flowers;
put them in my hair.
i wrote a poem
where you care.

died young.
who’s to say it won’t happen to me?

they say change isn’t a bad thing
though it feels like a woodland monster
grabbing my arms and tying them together
in knots
i can breathe, but it’s heavy and uncontrollable

and you’re not even eighteen
yet
you feel so different
as a person
as a human
 as a creature
as a
i can’t even finish the sentence
cause i can’t describe you
help.

he was cornered
and alive on the highway
seeing signs become distant items in the desert sand
maybe his friends cried after hearing of his death
i don’t doubt it
cause he was so young
yet so permanently engraved in their minds

she is caught up in the tide of fake love
that comes around and swallows you whole
and then leaves you to cry on the floor
a waste of a few months
of cursing someone’s name
and
taking the blame
until suddenly you realize nobody loves you
as you are

and the moon she swells
with unhappiness
as the tides change
and you do as
well.
you think it is a good thing
yet it makes you insane
like a drunk driver upon the road
who is racing like a thunderbird

he will hit you, head-on collision
the brakes slamming hard,
but no use
and you’ll die as young as he was
did you know the gasoline would be your noose?

almost unrecognizable
almost delirium
almost a 180 change of perspective
you will dazzle in your movies
that’ll last for a couple years
until the camera gets too harsh and you beg it to stop
with your remaining adolescent brain
and your misunderstanding of things
so easy to comprehend,
you will get in your car,
tears on the steering wheel
speeding on the empty highway
you will lose your sense of direction
someone won’t notice your light
and you’ll be gone into the night.

don’t plead and cry now
this love is temporary,
you know it too.
don’t pretend that he loves you,
it’s not you that he sees,
it’s the opportunity for him to get attention
yet you’re naïve like every teenage girl ever
so stuck in your chic flics
you didn’t even notice,
him running away with your pride.

future is coming
future is coming
future is ****** and brutal
future is coming
it must be sad, trying to be melodramatic
all the time because you think you have to

you never know, the car could appear to be going slow
but you never know
how fast things can change in an instant
i hope you don’t lose yourself in the smoke
in the exhaust from the engine
i hope you know there’s more than one way to grow
don’t lose yourself under the influence
with a boy who’s dated all of the friends that you have

change is a strange
thing
deep and
consuming
i know you’re no james dean
pretending on a screen
so don’t become a chameleon  
unrecognizable,
they once said change is good,
but i’m doubting their answer
what’s your hope for the future?

i feel free
by myself
without any one else
any body that’s coarse and weak
i don’t need a body to complete me.
i don’t need your false sunlight,
your false sense of security.
i am better alone.
i am easier to manage.
i am easier to mold into something else
something cowardly
like trying to belong.
oh, why did i ever try to belong?
oh, why did i ever try?
who was i
to be so bold as to assume that i was anything more than just a dying art?
for you.
a dying art
for your cracked and callused hands
to hold and touch when the brush becomes a part of your hand
—you can’t seem to set it down.

—i wanted you to love me
not in a selfish way
in a “i’ve never experienced love, can you dress my wounds” kind of way
i wanted your eyes to paint galaxies
over the acres of my skin
and make them shine like a constellation in the
light-polluted backyard

—i wanted you to adore me
not in a selfish way
in a “if you looked at anything else, it wouldn’t measure up, but that’s fine” kind of way

but you don’t have to love me
in a stain glass window church kind of way
you don’t have to paint over my cracks
and force me to stay
i would hold your hand no matter
even if the dam we built together suddenly came apart
i would hold you
soft—
ly

you’re so easy to love


   —i wish i was like you

you like the wild type
rides in your car
lipstick stains on your leather seats
beer breath
headbangers playing guitar
tiny skirts
playful smirks
driving 100 miles in a 70
tabletop dances
soft fingertips
bloodshot cherry red eyes

but honey,
i spend my days in bed
dreaming of love,
butterflies and honeysuckles
my shorts are not too short
i don’t gaze longingly at random men
in public
i listen to boy bands
don’t leave lipstick stains
in stranger’s cars
i get to know people first

you like the wild type
but you could always give me a try
i can be wild in some ways
like going camping
and kissing for a few seconds
tackle me in the haystack
hold me like you wish you
never would have touched anything else
we don’t need late night ***** sessions
after getting obliterated
we can share hotel rooms
and sleep in separate beds
to keep it cutesy
road trips across the country
off-roading
while obeying the speed limit
contentment spreading across the flowers
and it reaches the sky

you know,
i’m not the original wild type
but i can go wild and crazy for you anytime

i understand that you don’t want to be a human
causing problems or making the news
or just trying to exist without lighting a fuse
with some thickheaded scoundrel
but
lay low
don’t mind the throbbing hearts
the fire breathing sweat machines
who slice heads off just for fun or for selfish reasons
slip into your burrow
the hyenas and lions don’t dig
(i think so)
if you drown out the noise, the noise will sound like a murmur
of distant chatter
it won’t matter
only emerge to get some food for thought
so on that note,
you won’t see me in a couple of years
at least until the fire swallows up the earth
and manages to seep into the dirt
that’s when i’ll emerge

the sand is between my toes
all my foes have gone south for the
long winter
they are crashing beach waves
unable to reach my shore

the vibrant burning flesh
lingers harshly on our legs
entangled
between nightgowns and laugh-out-louds
the dim midnight candles flicker
bitter wind grazes past so gently
and yet so recklessly

there is a sunlit radiance
lit up on your face
a certain kind of experience
brings forward such impetuousness
effervescent and streaked with purpose
you glow with such precision
inside a hotel suite bound for secrecy
and pretending to be
who we are not, who we wish we were

i was young sun-kissed skin
incandescent
lucidly dancing
in childish daze
astray
in foreign
places
cabaret
underage
dizzy and unhinged
but somehow still so poised
in violet tenderness
with your soft lips
on mine
such subtle ties
impossible to memorize
we are fragments of misplaced puzzle pieces
deliberate looks on sweltering beaches
we are undefined
in the white
heat of summer
nights

stares that tarnish
secure fires
by the beachside
there are sudden nerves in
self-proclaimed fearlessness
awestruck teenagers
intoxicated in the
unforeseen appearance of lust, misconstrued as love

the balconies with ivy over the edge
spill over the cloudless yellow coast
wild cerulean waves bathe the air in slight showers
careful hand grabs
heat lightning
fever struck adolescence
soak in twilight sweat beads
ebullient girls with brunette bouncing curls
in the wake
your waves
crash against my figure
leaving spots touched by the sun
handprints,
and your scent remains on
me
as you alluringly
twist the shape of the universe
around
our own accords
the dawn licks our faces
as we wake up to the soothing noises
of boats rising then
tumbling upon the ocean current
like
your magnetic field pulls me
into swift contact upon auberge floors  

we become the matters we take
in our own hands
we become two shapes glistening
in the pale hush of nightfall

picture the luminescence  
cheekbones flexed
a flare of light
a bit of strength

you always inhabit the areas that reek with filthy phrases
ecstasy bleeding out of your weak bones
cause you follow the crowd that drowns in submarines
and coughs out their black lungs

picture the seaside town
its cliffs beside sandy beaches
the rapture  
illuminated by the irises of the world

fire escapes and lurid streetlights
the buzz of electricity

don’t forget the beauty amidst the demolition


but
you tell me this is fog, although i’m inhaling smoke

you crumbled in my hands like flimsy bricks on lazy made housing developments
tumbling like rocks on sides of cliffs
dull guilty eyes stared back at me
black circles gazing presumptuously
at my porcelain skin
we were not bad people
we were just victims to cruel assumption
you took the brunt of the dazed collusion
and they stole me from you
as the spaceships coughed up fumes
capable of killing a single man
in under five seconds
we all cry the same tears when we hear the world is coming to a close
we travel to tiny towns where our families are stationed
and we weep in each other’s arms
because all our tears are made up of saltwater
none are fresher than another  
none are clearer
none are holier
i danced with you as the world was bombed to ashes
and minimized to dust particles
but you broke out of my embrace
and shot me in the head instead
the darkness poured out of your grim eyelids
and into my soul
i choked on my own rotten blood
feeling fire slither up next to my paralyzed body

you lit all the corners of the rooms
with candles
now they’re burning
burning the wax all the way down to the bottom
this time,
i’m not dancing,
i’m burning alive

forever is a crueler way of saying never

no one cares what books i read
my “best” friend cries on the phone to me
she says it’s just a matter of time
before we go on vacation together
or the april child she loves will
wind up at her ivy-covered door
with lips filled in apologies
or half-hearted “i adore yous.”

she says it’s just a strange world
comparing each of my companions to her
i don’t allow myself to get worried
with her obvious emotional manipulation
her selfish need to conspire against me
constantly thinking it’s for the best.

her mother speaks so softly
tells her not to get so out of hand
tries not to let her wash her life away
in a trailer park fever dream
with cigarette smoke and boys that come
and go, but they never know
the brutal need for her to skin her victims
package them away in garage bins
and leave them to handle their mangled limbs
by themselves

one day, i think i will freak out
and rip up the bluebird-colored tablecloth
and pluck the shards of glass
from my weakened arteries
and she will meltdown in a sweaty bar
turn soggy and white in the face
and her relatives will all disown her

she says i’m one of the only friends
to chose from
to swim in a pool by the ocean
she wants the florida marsh in my hair
the cypress smile sticky on my top lip
but she doesn’t care about me
and my irregular temperature
my august windstorms
my maine hemispheric cold-spouts

her merely view through telescopic lenses
magnifying me
but she says slurs and she thinks it’s ok
and it’s not
multiple skeletons lying upright in her closet
as i try to open the doors
she slams them shut
freckles from the sun and the never-ending daytime hour she rarely sleeps and
maybe that’s her issue
all blue and purple, bruised legs
and egos falling on the floor
like dominoes
springtime wishful thinking,
but winter betrayal sinkhole in my backyard

she says it’s about time for
her to come to my house
deposits her eggs for me to chew on
or take care of or whatever
she thinks this transactional
friendship is
or how it looks from the inside
lurking along the corners of the creaky fence

she moves in muscular anomaly
she uses me like a chess piece
bent to her inconsistencies
face flat on farmland
and flannels torn to holes
from her constant urge to
crunch up all my simple pleasures
leaving them like mush
and stomach acid lingers
on their polyester remnants
smelling like old shoes worn by
some old storyteller

but i am in hibernation,
comatose on the dewy grass
my liver sits untouched inside of my belly
crabapple seeds are planted
but rarely the trees ever sprout or venture
farther than one foot
buried inside infertile ground

she waits attentively for my eyes to bat open
for the coma to subside
so when the morning wetness climbs
atop my powdered-coconut nightgown
sallow in complexion
i rest with shut pupils
so the fools don’t bolt into
the inmost part of me  

she tells herself he’ll write her a letter
stained with decaf coffee or maybe
his own sweat or spit or
passion dipped into a quill pen
and out onto the parchment
pathetic diction and apathetic vindication
she tells me one day,
he will regurgitate it back for her
onto her palms and she will recite
every word like a well-thought out poem
sprawled out upon her chest
heaving his misleading justifications

but i won’t be waiting
for her
as the florida air stains her soul
from the inside out
until her heart is black as coal
and her hands are stained from the
peeling of my brain cavity that
leaks blood she thinks
makes oddly-familiar patterns
across her guilty figure

why am i hurt by the fact that she sings in tune to your melodies?
you might not love me, i do not love you,
but why is it that i am hurt by you
dancing hand in hand with some woman or man?
there is no allegiance
yet my heart coils and burns
when i see you with her
and for that,
i wish i could punish myself.
i have no strength to bear,
no commitment to show,
but i am paralyzed by everything you do.
i don’t wish to sing in tune,
i don’t pine to harmonize
with your wavering melodies
hanging on my lips like a jungle vine.
i don’t wish to love you
for the image that you represent,
i don’t wish to love you with the power i have left in me.
why am i so powerless now when all that shot through my veins before
was strength?
why do i allow myself to submit to
an idea that isn’t even alive,
cannot come to fruition?
why must i try to align myself for a man who’ll never attempt to know me
for more than just what lies outside?
but i am hollow, and he must know,
can sense it from a mile away.  
why do i let the chance strangle me,
tame me, multiply until it is unable to be fought?
i have fists the size of my anger;
watch me be more than just my humanistic desires.
watch me burn this entire village down
just so the music cannot be heard.
watch me discover that the fire is warmer than your touch and so
i will shake in indignation
and swallow myself up in the flames of my rage.
i do not love you,
i love the way your ashes look on the ground: lifeless and shriveled.

i don’t want to be a woman
standing on a suitcase packed with psychedelics
losing her remaining mind in a ditch on the side of the deserted road.
i don’t want to be a woman
who’s taught to love herself but the others around her
are peach trees in summer
with lips plump and red
with tiny thighs that extend.
i don’t want to be a woman
with frail bones because the calcium deficiency caught her early
shouting for her knees that are weak
and for her obsolete brain waves that forget their true place.
i don’t want to be woman
following the trail until it suits her no more
creating a secret code then tossing it into the river
with jaguar eyes and a lopsided smile
she’s fine with letting new histories die in her arms.
i don’t want to be a woman
in all truth, i don’t want to be associated with anyone
i don’t belong in this body, in this mindset, in this world
every word on each paper is screaming at me to rebuke my inner organs and to become a knight without limits
because i don’t believe in speaking up for the sake of speaking up.
i don’t want to be a woman
or a man for that matter
i just want to exist in the forest fires of los angeles
the city with no angels
no reason to be endowed with this city of torches and absolute tomfoolery
but look where i am now
i discarded my existence for fame and rash decisions
i don’t want to be a woman, do you?
if i put on a halter top and show you more skin, would you love who i am or the flesh that is impure and shameful?
i don’t want forced views to be my condemnation
i don’t want your silk dresses and pearls.
sham admiration is not my master
nor will it ever be in my mind or my soul.

        i don’t want to be woman, do you?

my old classmate had a written hit list
one of my teachers was in bold red lettering
i wish i had been on it

i feel like i don’t give the benefit of the doubt for the victims of my poems
they have their own sides of the stories
that they’ll never be able to tell

the moon has craters because those are the steps i envisioned taking before i was born
i was sent to earth instead

panic is the worst responder to stress, but it’s usually the first

hotels are small pieces of home i never got

i am afraid to drink a glass of alcohol
i don’t wanna lose control
besides my mother’s dad was a raging alcoholic and i don’t wanna be like him
his own sister says he’s unbelievably stupid
i don’t want my sister to call me a wreck so i won’t get drunk like other twenty year old kids

i didn’t learn to tie my shoes until the fourth grade because i wanted to ground myself
i ended up breaking an iPad when i learned
was it worth it?
i broke a screen, but earned a skill, cool
i was face-timing my best friend while playing basketball in a made-up hoop when i cracked that screen
the iPad is far gone now, so is she

had boughten lunch all throughout school because i always had to be different than other little children
(i didn’t chose to be)

my favorite artist is one who endured abuse by her boyfriends and possibly her mother
what does that say about me?

never been scouted out by polite boys or cute boys or any boys at all
a few liked me at my old school
but i haven’t seen them for years
and one of them called me ugly
reverse psychology?

always loved holding old fashioned phones to my ears to pretend to be more elegant than i actually am

recently, i have been scared of everything
journalism class, my two name alias at school,
junior year creeping up on me, myself
I JUST WANT TO BE SURE, DANG IT

you say you don’t love him anymore
yet you always blush and turn pink when he’s around
you get giddy and you tell me to do things
and if i refuse, you speed walk in the other direction
you still have a bonfire buried deep inside those smoking lungs
your soul keeps gathering sticks
your heart keeps lighting matches
inflaming and heating up the blazes of the man-eating fire
you say you don’t love him anymore
but he still affects your ethereal smile
he still changes your attitude
and you will never not love him
so stop lying to yourself
and stop letting him capture your mood
and put it in a russian doll
layers upon layers
without discovering the truth
you say you don’t love him anymore
but i know you still do

ɪ ᴀᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛʀʏɴᴀ ᴊɪɴx ᴍʏsᴇʟғ
ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇɴ’ᴛ ᴇxᴘᴇʀɪᴇɴᴄᴇᴅ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇʀ’s ʙʟᴏᴄᴋ ɪɴ ᴀɴ ᴇɴᴛɪʀᴇ ʏᴇᴀʀ
ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ɪᴛ’s ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏssᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴄᴇᴀɴ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴄᴋs ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ sᴇᴀ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇs ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ sᴛᴏᴘᴘᴇᴅ sᴡᴀʀᴍɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ
ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ɪᴛ’s ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴋɪɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇ
ᴇxᴛʀᴀᴠᴀɢᴀɴᴛ ᴀʙɪʟɪᴛʏ
ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ɪᴛ’s ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ɪ ʟᴇᴀᴘᴇᴅ ᴏғғ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴘʟᴀɴᴇ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴅᴇʟɪʀɪᴏᴜs ʜᴀᴢᴇ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴀʏ
ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪ ᴡᴀs ᴘʟᴜᴍᴍᴇᴛɪɴɢ ᴛᴏᴡᴀʀᴅs ᴇᴀʀᴛʜ sᴏ ғᴀsᴛ ᴘᴀᴄᴇᴅ
ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴀᴄʜᴜᴛᴇ ᴅᴇᴘʟᴏʏᴇᴅ
ᴋᴇᴘᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴀᴛ ɴᴇᴡ ʜᴇɪɢʜᴛs ɪ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ɪ’ᴅ ᴇᴠᴇʀ sᴇᴇ
ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ɪᴛ’s ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɢʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ғɪʀᴇᴡᴏʀᴋ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪᴅɴɪɢʜᴛ sᴋʏ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ғɪɴᴀʟʟʏ sᴇᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛ
ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ sᴇᴇ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴀʀs, ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴏɴ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʟᴀɴᴇᴛs
sᴍɪʟɪɴɢ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴀᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴀs ɪғ sᴀʏɪɴɢ
“ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ’ᴠᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴀ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ɪᴛ.”
ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ sʜᴀᴅᴏᴡs sᴛᴀʀᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴄᴏᴀᴛ ʜᴀɴɢᴇʀs ᴀɴᴅ ᴅʀᴇssᴇʀs ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴇᴅs
ɪ ᴡᴀsɴ’ᴛ ᴀғʀᴀɪᴅ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋ
ɪ ʙᴀsᴋᴇᴅ ɪɴ ɪᴛ
ᴅᴇᴇᴘʟʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀᴅʟʏ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛɪʟʟɴᴇss ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ
ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ sᴇᴇᴍs ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ɪs ᴘᴇʀғᴇᴄᴛʟʏ ʙᴀʟᴀɴᴄᴇᴅ
ᴀɴᴅ ᴍʏ ғɪɴɢᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴄᴀʟʟᴜsᴇᴅ
ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ sᴛᴏᴘᴘᴇᴅ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ sɪɴᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏssᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴄᴇᴀɴ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴡᴀs ᴅᴏᴜsᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴇᴇɴɪsʜ ᴄʟᴇᴀʀ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀ
ғᴀʟʟ ғɪʀsᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇɴ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴢᴇ
ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ғᴀʟʟ ᴛᴏ ғɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ᴘᴜʀᴘᴏsᴇ ɪɴ ʟɪғᴇ
ᴀɴᴅ sᴏ ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇɴ’ᴛ ʜᴀᴅ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇʀ’s ʙʟᴏᴄᴋ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇ ʏᴇᴀʀ
ᴡᴏᴡ, ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴛʜɪs ᴋɪɴᴅ ᴏғ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪs sᴇᴠᴇʀᴇ

POV-
ur best friend of five years at least (ur horrible at math) has left you for a structure and you lay there on your bed confused. Life had just started getting good. U had a phenomenal teacher, “friends,” lovers (i mean you were like eleven so more like crushes) good grades and every luxury the world could give to you. it’s halloween night and you don’t even know it’s the last time you are going to be speaking with ur best friend. and after that you start to miss her and see her in unlit candles and McDonald’s hamburgers. you read ur old text messages and you bawl into your knuckles until u are sore and you have to stop for ur greater good. u avoid eye contact with her because now you are inside the place that she left you for and you feel immeasurable to its warm embrace. you don’t tell your new friends about your cluelessness of why she stopped talking to you. u leave this all untouched and no one can collapse the property you built for your furious self. And you grow tired every day of having to hide from such a public relationship that you develop social anxiety. u start to feel eyes all over you all the time and you can’t sleep well at night because there might be a ghost under ur bed. and ur life becomes pointless because who should you be living for now? u contemplate saying something to her, but you fear rejection so much that you cower in the dusty corner and u are safe... right? oh, but ur still gonna turn red and pink and purple after dreams are torn and scraped like the crumbs on the table. u ache with every bone in your body and every cell wishes you would just say “hi” to the closest stranger ever. but ur mouth shakes and trembles and you grow tired of always having to try after SHE left U for a building that would crumble in less than four years. a building that wouldn’t even last longer than ur “friendship.” but u don’t feel angry, you just feel numb and ur phone vibrates from other people who cared enough to call you smart or say you knew more than them in spanish class and you realize that some people will never care enough to talk or never want to rekindle what you thought they would and you are ok with it. because friends are fluctuations and you are probably never gonna see the man who asked you to help him walk across the street again, so why would you care if it was anyone else? u are unstoppable and ur best friend is just an old friend and that’s how the world is. and you will not cry about it

it'll always be impossible
to forget
you.
in some kind of metaphorical way,
you'll always be standing rain-soaked
on my doormat.
the moon might sparkle,
your name floating inside its craters,
and i'll see every shape you indented into me.
i might lose the sound of your voice
echoing in an empty room,
my ears pressed against the walls
sobbing, pleading for myself to remember it.
if i ever get stuck on the interstate,
would i just stare at your phone number,
but refuse to call it?
i remember may, i remember march;
i was alive then.
i remember you with your hands that moved
up and down the seat,
i was always afraid
to attach some kind of meaning to you;
thought i betrayed myself when i did.
wrote so many poems you were the outline of,
almost forgot you entirely.

i'm living now with scars,
an absence of your space,
a loss of appetite,
a stained mouth,
a stomach filled with butterflies,
an esophagus polluted with their dusty wings.
i'm living now
with pages of writing dedicated to how it felt,
how i started to believe
i should've been someone else,
un-phased by your mercy.
i wonder if pennsylvania left you
in its clutches,
i wonder if ohio ever feels too foreign.
i wonder if i ever died on those
back roads,
i wonder if you were ever actually scared like me.

there is music made by the delicate
cadence of my mortal heart when your name
is spoken from this constructed abyss
absent of the means for real happiness
there is a chapter of my life that is 
undisclosed, there are seeds planted in the
soil where your heavy feet once trod by day
there is a rose bush neglected by soft
gardening hands by the landfill where your
hollow corpse lays, as ***** rainwater trickles
down my spine, in places your fingers will
ne’er reside, confiding in your shadow
dare say if the infrastructure faces a
sudden hurricane surge—friends forever.

tonight i sit with a tightened noose

and a woman with tights
and jaguar plotting eyes
sits beside my body  

there’s dust and gravel
in the crevices of my sandals
and the laundry is upon the floor

tonight i sit with a bruise on my cheek

not from the pure pain i received
but from the pain that was
once masked as love

there’s a tree where i once stood
beyond the voices of doubt or condemnation
and the branches sway without hesitation

tonight i sit in the halo of the red moon

and
tonight i wish it wasn’t me,
instead that it was you

unlikeable
write it on my
                            F      A      C       E

the air is heavy
incapable of breathing it
it clings to my mouth
******* in the
                    weights

i’ve never hated being alone more
but i know i am not just alone
i am lonely
when the sky falls
turns purple and pink
i am left in an empty battlefield
full of unloaded guns

oh, what have i come to?
but what am i kidding
i have always been unlikeable
i should have known

there is nothing on this sinking ship except naivety and

(in my quiet solitude
though uninhabited, i see a force that wears the skin of a wolf
and it circles around me like a vulture to its prey.
there is yet to be found a validity
alive in this misfortune
obscenity has a spiteful home here.

have these bones grown too brittle?
have you turned into a surge of unnecessary memory?
the pressure folding my lungs like cards
the violence raising me as a scapegoat.
have you seen these ugly acidic tears turn the ground into a salt mine?
if you have looked for me, you have not seen me.
my intuition pulls and hides and repositions me
these conditions we instill are making us suffocate.
and these borders are making me unfamiliar
to the uproar i had grown so accustomed to.
to the sewer, we were flushed
and we lost the foundation that was hardly standing beneath our groaning feet.

the fury i breathe through my tired nostrils
entangles me
like a vine in a rainforest that only knows how to be sunny.
if you have looked for me, you would have seen a corpse instead.
a semblance of what used to exist.
a current swept over terrain that remains, that never
changes.
the barriers across miles of lands picked over, lands filled with dry tumbleweed, lands uncooperative with human life,
we rested upon.
in painful oblivion,
we lost the voice of the siren.
our qualms swelled
manically filling us with unease inscrutable to our undeveloped skulls.
we wear our burdens like unwashed clothes.
we walk within the hands of famine and loss and destruction.
we hear each other’s names, but all it causes is…)


pain.

it’s funny, you told me
that i would be popular in high school
you were unbelievably wrong

you said that out loud back then
and i felt like the coolest
person in the room

as you can see, the past
fills my mind, my body, my soul
and it’s not worth letting go
at least after all this time
my tears are still not manufactured

spot me—
under candlelight
because when the night comes
like a tidal wave
all my old victories
present themselves
as fantasies
when in all reality,
i was just as washed up then
as i am currently

before i even had a phone,
you were there.
i snapped photographic pictures
of you and you stayed in my
memory like hot glue
and i got burned and burned and burned
and now i hover around
as a burden in a blood soaked satin dress

you’re funny, until you feel threatened
and call every warm-blooded force
around you
ugly.

it hit the brunt of me,
and you never asked me to dance
i was waiting for you all night
your father kept talking to me
and wouldn’t
shut up for some reason
he always told me the
spotlights exploding
were just our hearts

or at least that’s what i gathered when i
read his mind

you laughed with me, you waited on me,
you conversed with me, you talked about me
and i would dunk
my head in the water beneath me
to rid of the cruelty you pushed on me;
to combat the rings of fire that you hurled me into

all these people who get to talk
about their feelings
yet, you never admitted
how you felt
and i was getting mixed signals
and i was young and dumb
and crazy and selfish and
hateful of myself
and you didn’t help at all
and..you know.. i never needed your help
it just would have been nice to be able to
know that you cared at least a little

i hate that i have to remember you
i don’t like me because of you
although it’s not always about me

    got your driver’s license?
  how does it
feel to not
     be in control
all the time?

it’s not as empowering as you would have liked
and good
your ego doesn’t deserve to be bloated right now

i am not in love with you,
let’s be clear; i never was in love
with you, honestly
who could be?

i was about to see your new flesh
a couple months ago
but a spirit must have taken over your
mind
and the excitement i had
vanished
into the august midnight breeze

don’t you know that:
I DON’T NEED YOU
I NEVER NEEDED YOU
I DON’T WANT YOU TO RETURN
I DON’T WANT YOU AROUND

hopefully our ending can be brutal
but not too brutal
for i need to see you once more

lying here broken; fix me up.

summer of melancholy
stuck between my teeth.
sunburnt legs, unrequited emotions.
your grip like a hot furnace,
my skin melting into a glassy form.

(why ‘your’, it’s my poem isn’t it? my words frozen solid on the page—how dare you haunt me?)

shake my body dry
after swimming in a pool of your nothingness
i understand the word love
makes you quiver,
you make me want to shake all of you out like a wet dog.

(and it’s back to ‘you’ and only ‘i’ when it pertains to you. i live on the horizon of your greatness; i miss my own sunsets to watch yours.)

as they sit in a room
and turn into one,
i wonder if you hear my voice
bouncing off the walls.
i wonder if you’ve ever loved
something that did not touch you,
that could not offer a part of
themselves up for you,
but only came as it did.

shake my body free of you,
lean into the ‘me.’
come as i am,
leave with empty hands.
i am vacant
but i am unburdened.

to be worth the world, you have to be beautiful

to maintain a kiss
to be something to miss
to be a wife with kids
you have to be beautiful

likewise, all of us feel we’re the detriment
in a society that loves to see us in bed
but we cry soggy tears on our sheets
and we don’t stop just because a model says we can be beautiful on the inside

to be worth the world, you have to be beautiful
buy a diamond studded dress
and go out in the reeds
and sing a sailor’s song to your bride to be

likewise, all of us feel the world’s back turned
our royal blue skin on her selfish lips  
giving us dead flowers and then wishing us the best
sends us away with so many backhanded compliments

to be worth the world, you have to be beautiful
raise your arms up to the afternoon sun
and remind everyone you were sent from God
and baby, i was too but there’s no use to prove it

likewise, i turn jewelry into stone
i make this critical conditioned heart into gold
i sew my bedsheets to represent some home
i believe the truth comes bleeding out of our eyeballs
our lungs just trying to catch up to this world

to be worth the world, you must be beautiful
we all call you by your given name
but you stomp on our fingers
you linger like a bad disease
it doesn’t pay to be kind and pretty

unlike you, i slave the day away
trying to feel the taste that gathers on your tongue
even when you do things wrong
i must try to feed the monster inside of my stomach
but it beats me to a pulp
every time i want something even as widespread as love

to be worth the world, you must be beautiful
you don’t need all the credentials
you don’t even have to have potential
as a valued person for anything other than your outer self

likewise, one day i might slip under the rope
being able to stop playing limbo
but what does it matter?
i’m still not a rose quartz in the middle of a stage show

to be worth the world, you must be beautiful
dance in alleyways
sing in outer space
be someone who can be replaced



be easily replaced
and then you’re beautiful
in this world

gardening hands
sliced wings—
you make me happy
and i don’t mean to sound corny
but it’s true.
i am not in love
but time isn’t creeping behind stone walls
time isn’t slithering like a snake
in this garden
the smile cannot stop before it hits my lips
the river is smooth
and settles in my throat
naturally.
i am not in love
but happiness is clinging to my torn sleeves
all the factory floors where my cold body laid so still
are getting renovated,
new floor plan.
harsh sea waters have calmed
after waging a war of hatred.
i am not in love
but this town feels bigger than usual
this gust of wind upon my head
is slowing by the minute.
the hour does not creep,
it moves along,
no hissing nor shouting nor demanding.
i am not in love
but the night spins achingly through my ceiling
as i beg and beg and plead for the sudden heat of the morning sun
sooner, faster
restrain me
i am not in love
i am only
happy

fear,
an emotion i feel
on a daily basis
looking such a human
in the emerald eyes—
terrifying

they like my hair
the curls, the waves
the volume, the aliveness
but i can’t help but
tiptoe over the thought
that
the fondness of it
is disguised hatred…
fear

melancholy, but alone
oxymorons to me
being melancholy and
alone do not exist together
but somehow
when they all leave
my side like blurry ghosts
the sadness creeps up
slowly, painfully, brutally…
fear

the anxiety inside of me
fueled by gasoline
fires on my tongue
buildings dilapidated
lava flows softly
in a thunder city…
fear

children and their
dreams vigorous with
marzipan and cherries
their fake hair
and fake bodies
and overestimated “sorrow”
their heels snap on the floor
like cinderella i sweep
the dirt off the tiles
as they whisper delightfully
about the ball in
a nearby castle…
fear

oh, to be a swan
to swim in streams
that invite me
to glide in waters
that embrace me—
hunters!
they must have seen
our pure white glossy
feathers from afar
do you hear that noise?
heaven sakes, he’s
been shot…
fear

oh, to have a swan funeral
wearing our hearts
on our wings
fly away friend,
go join the sparrows
and doves
and peacocks in
Heaven
i wish i could join you
i’m alone and melancholy
down here where the hunters
roam
where the apple trees
are seasonal
and not forevermore
meet me,
but i doubt you will
given your circumstance
compared to mine…
fear

how was the picnic in the wide expanse of country land?
did you cry with your mother and beg her to agree with you?
the garden withers, the flowers wilt
beneath your callused hands

in the pile of firewood, what a sign to see
it was your jawline, sharp and refined
you bled from your eyeballs
blue, the color of your bones

fountain of truth is visited by you
you toss rocks inside, pennies and wishes
do you see the reflection of your firm shoulders in the water that tells no lies?
that one woman on the street corner gasped when you tied your hair back
but you gave her a reason to weep
twiddling your thumbs
you undermined your fragile expertise

you don’t get to be me.

you don’t get to wear my nightgown so you can smile pridefully as i bleed into my knees
you don’t get to use that vocal authority to silence my concern
you don’t get to laugh in spite of my own definitions, confined in your delusions, all happy and carefree
you don’t get to disillusion me into worshiping your inconsistency and make me loyal to your sovereignty
the sky knows you’re lying, the sky knows your smile hides piranha teeth
the earth knows your structure, the earth knows your mortality

you don’t get to be someone like me.

silky skirts and powdered makeup and sparkly high heels
you even start to consider how that makes me feel?
to feel undermined inside my own mind, inside my own fibers of being
twisted force, villainy, how does it feel to surrender to a falsity, a bogus claim, a nonsense meaning?
how does it feel to steal my countryside, my silhouette, my solid truth, my skin, my body?

you don’t get to be me.
you don’t.

even for a glimpse of a minute, when you think you’ve conceived it, it died
the freedom came crawling, came screaming, came then leaving, starting shooting profanities out of the barrel of a gun
you still pirouetted, ballerina in shoes too small for your foot
fireworks went off when you sighed
it’s powerful to sabotage the weak
it makes you the king of hypocrisy

you don’t get to me.

you don’t get to be me.

white lies in a tall cornfield
roll with fallacies in deep wet swamp with alligators
you punched one a few months ago, so hyper aggressive so ruthlessly

you don’t get to be me.

and for a second there, you nearly had everyone fooled
if i hope hard enough, that’ll be how it turns out
everyone will scowl at themselves for participating
adamant with fury, so much so that you burned down the village
resorting to pillage in a mysterious war effort
you don’t get to ransack my belongings and claim them as yours, as yours to claim, as yours to change
up in flames when a simple contemplation becomes your reason for existing

you don’t get to be me.

how sad is it that now my bones are stolen from my coffin to make room for the aspersions that you cast on me?
in decease, there is
there is solace in that

you don’t get to be me.

your muted applause
in a vacant miscalculated amphitheater.
if it makes noise,
i don’t hear it.
if it doesn’t,
i’ll pretend to.
i’ll tie your vapid words to my feet
and sing with the past fallen civilizations.
at least we’ll have something in common.
envy like ivy,
creeping up the walls
of my abandoned house in the
middle of the woods.
i’ll preach for the choirs
singing my guts out
for the fakers and
gladiators who all doubt my strength
cause’ pull away when you feel like the plot for ****** is starting to include your name.
somehow it doesn’t stain bitter snakeskin,
it only brings closure to being with who i don’t
consider to listen to
all the notes carried
so forcefully.
my stage is starless,
gotta confess that
the acoustics are awful;
forgot to smile.
you would’ve listened
if you really wanted to.
you would’ve licked the seal of the envelope
mailed it to me
to show your gratitude
and your generosity.
but instead you sit forging
your own signature
on the corpse of this friendship
while i cry over spilled milk
and birthday cake smudges
over tile floors
too repulsed to mop anymore.
too unhinged to care anymore.
too alive to be killed by your sword.
too loud, but not loud enough
for the sound to travel to your eardrums.
still, it’s not much to ask for you to just move
a little closer.

i want to love you

i want to hold you during autumn by the fireplace

i want to cuddle you in the pitch black and know that i am safe

i see plenty
thousands
of people my exact age
with people they love
or they wanna spend
more time with
i ache
i want you so bad
but
who the heck
will you be?

i want to be so engulfed in you that i can’t speak to you
dream of you
or lay awake with you
cause my heart will burn
and cause the cream bedsheets
to become the same exact color
as the fire my heart contains

i want to be able to kiss you
in the midday rain
pieces of you fit in me
glued together

i want to be so far gone
that if you break my heart
i will throw a fit and tantrum
resorting back to who i was
at five or six years old

i want to talk to you for hours
upon hours
forgetting that time means
anything more than numbers
becoming so invested
that the words i write
can only ever be your name

i want to walk with you
in the gloom of the
three a.m
drunk hour
wasted on each
other’s smiles
giggling and chasing
after one another
like in a chic flic
dreaming in
radiant
and gorgeous colors
all over
our clueless yet
satisfied expressions

and all i really want is
to be able
to lay by
you
and not worry
about not making
a peep
be whole
be full
be you
around me
i didn’t sign up
for another
you are the only
you are you
and i am in love
with the ashes
and madness
and nightmares
and insignificance
and flashes
and outlandishness
and you
mr. beyond sadness
lay with me
in the hush
of the nighttime
your flesh
and mine
and only
two hands
holding the flow
together
you and i
once i have
no worry
or anxiety
that’s when
i know
you will
love me
unconditionally