The only way,
You’ll pick me,
Is in a line up.
“Who’s heart was it sir? Who’s heart was the one you crushed up and ruined for everyone else?”
That one there.
The girl with the honest eyes
And the irrelevant freckles.
That’s her. I’m sure of it.
Well that’s when I was handcuffed.
Taken into custody.
Into a cell, a familiar place, but uncomforting for the first time.
There were walls, casing me in
made up of your words.
And when I turned to escape I felt your arms
Around me.
They weren’t holding me with love this time though.
No, they were holding me back.
They were crushing me,
With hope,
And longing,
And the muscles of the past
Which will always hit you right between the eyes
When you least expect it.
And I managed to escape.
I turned away and ran for what seemed like an exit
But in reality was just
An illusion.
A filler,
In my heart to replace what
Can never be.
So I collapsed, and thought over
The crimes I had committed
To get me here.
I remembered the writing.
The lyrical stylings of pen against paper,
Provided by yours truly, for you wholly.
Inspired by and dedicated to you,
Created by love, published by vulnerability.
And then I thought about the skin.
The flesh that we shared.
And it must not have been soft enough,
Or warm enough,
Or have had enough electricity,
To power the whole world,
Just a few continents.
I thought about time. The clocks,
That ticked, slowly, but surely,
Filled with me,
Adoring you.
My placing in this room mustn’t have been
A mistake.
My thoughts were far too fast and far too strong
To be legal.
Far too much for me to handle.
So I must need help.
But then it’s your face that hits me, and I feel it.
I feel it all again.
I remember what the sun looks like and what fresh air smells like and what it feels like not to be
Alone.
Alone.
And that was it.
I knew why I was here. I knew why i was alone in this place that was made up of you.
You escaped.
You *******,
What a smart guy you are.
You found the spoon.
You dug your way out of the cell you had enclosed us in,
And I didn’t even notice.
You slowly but surely carved away
At what I found sacred,
And hallowed.
And I never even knew it, until you were gone.
And then I was here.
Serving my life sentence.
Awaiting trial.
” Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the evidence has been laid before you. Have you come to a verdict?”
And no one spoke.
Because they had nothing to say. And they didn’t understand,
Just like me, how someone guilty,
Could get off free.
But you did.
And I know, that the scars,
On the left side of my chest,
Are all,
I’ve got to show.

78 days
since our skin last touched
i've been counting each one as it passed
spells in my dreams that were cast
we are together through telephone wires
passing over shoes
laces hanging up memories
we wished we had lived
things we wished that we did
i just want to be near you
sometimes it's not enough just to hear you
i want to lick the love from your lips
sleep in the same bed
built from the steel struggles we have burdened
our voices and choices have turned them to cotton
perfect to rest our weary bodies on
perfect to make our own little love song
maybe most of all i miss
the heat from your heart
how your eyes are there own piece of art
but it's not really fair
to make me choose
there's not one piece of you
i'd want to loose
and i hope you think the same things as me
cause i promise these thoughts set you free
and it's okay not to rhyme
to not be on time
and it's really okay just to see

I am in heart with you.
Shush, baby, shush.
Don't say it too quick, fall down too quick.
Days are all days and space is all space.
Take me,
away,
you and I,
from here.
I am in small,
p i e c e s.
I'll leave them about.
In a trail,
lead me to your heart.
You are soft
and kind
and make me beautifully uncomfortable with your honesty.
I wanna sleep in your eyes,
and stare into your arms.
You xim me up,
you turn me around.
You make me right side up.
I live in the darkness
and you make it safe.
Another year,
and you are still here.
You are not over,
and we are not over,
and we are just now begining,
with no need for an end.
You are an August baby,
and I love babies,
and you are mine, baby, mine.
I know you too well,
and it never feels like enough.
Hours will be spent.
Joyously listening to the
workings and twearkings,
the (insides) of you.
I enjoy your organs.
And hair,
and teeth,
and lips,
and that special piece inside you that fits you right into me.
Mashup.
Two people, one person.
Two hearts, and they're workin'.
I will never be done with you.

it's been awhile
since someone kissed my forehead
prickly affection
fondness forgo nearness
smears of coral number fifty eight
tobacco breath lingers on my face
a passing gesture, a passing chance
family affection, no second glance

it's been awhile
since someone kissed my lips
chapped to perfection
remind me of your rugged protection
synchronized moving led by love
i bite my lip trying to remember
holding on tighter than i did last December
waiting for the day we can try that again
relished in us being more than we'd been

it's been awhile
since someone kissed my neck
wrapping my skin in a frantic passion
closer than my veins
warmer than the blood
physicality of love starting to form
i remember the first time
and how every time felt just like it
how you never changed and we never changed
and how i'm still wishing the world
didn't break us

it's been awhile
since someone kissed my heart
the metaphysical, unforgettable
the sometimes neatly, never discreetly
pumping ***** behind my breast
the one bigger than my chest
scarier than the stories i've told
forgive me for not being cold
and you were my sun, the only one
who didn't run and now

it's been awhile

if i write this poem simply
maybe we can just end
without the dizzy love spill
to slip in and blame each other
for our skinned knees
and i can't stop bleeding
and bleeding
and the blood
will never run out i think

I sit bundled up in the hard wicker chair, staring at the cold, bleak world around me. My only comfort, some old worn slippers and a scratchy knit cap. I feel freezing droplets of water kiss my face as they pass by with sudden, angry gusts of air. The smell is not one of fresh clean earth and new beginnings. It is tired and weary and hopeless. It’s lost causes and missed opportunities. It’s me and it’s you and it’s the people already asleep. Shadows of the dormant and unforgiving dance upon the walls of every building that surrounds me. They are much too large and look so out of place, but I do not care about this. They are there, and that is all I need to know. I sense that everything is hidden. I think not from the tears of the earth, but from the insecurities the envelop their hearts and unconscious. They feel the unwanted pull of vulnerability and escape to a safe place. To the arms of boyfriends they don’t really love and jobs they outgrew a decade ago. To a bottle of gin and roadmaps unused. The pounding of the water grows to an accelerated pace, pulls me away from this cage, and forces me to look into my own eyes for the first time. I strip off each layer of clothing I have on and run out into this downpour of life, with nothing on my shoulders except flesh. I breathe in the heady scent of water hitting pavement, and lift my hands upward. With the first drop of water that hits my tongue, I fall to my knees and smile. I am clean.

I just love to see you dream.
Where I can watch you live in the simplest of terms,
because just you existing is enough.
Right now we’re sharing the same bed and the same air and I know the same heart.
Our skin has been shared; and secrets and souls.
It’s not me here and you there and us close.
It’s we, together, here and eternally, which will always be enough.
I like overflowing with you.

Drinking Pellegrino thinking that if I had nicer sneakers I would run all the way across the state line without stopping and straight into your bed where we could talk about the donuts we were going to get at five the next morning, while I kissed your soft shoulders and you would tell me again that I was endless.

I woke up before the world started. Before it started breathing again. It was dark, and everyone was left with their dreams and the enrapture of silence. And I was left with you. Cause you’re louder than the silence, and you’re better suited for a world that can see. And I didn’t want the sleep. The muted sounds of breath and light thuds of heart. The basic forms of living. I wanted you, because you are living, what it’s like to feel alive. And of all the resting minds, I knew yours was most intriguing, and I was wishing you were laying by my side, so I could watch your beautiful face while magic was spinning in your head. I wanted to feel your breath, and touch your warm skin. Embrace your smell, which never fails to bring a comfort to my restless heart. It’s always awake. It has nothing to dream of. It found you.

Like a firework,
burn until the very last second,
grip the life you had,
created by falisies and man made ignitions.
Can you burn me down please?
Embers,
then ashes.
I will start again.
I do not want to be made of you,
and him,
and mistakes,
and everything I regret, which is all that seems apparent,
when nothing is setting you on fire.
I wanna be coals,
and baby it'll take years,
before a diamond.
I wanna be over,
and starting,
and finished,
and begining all at once.
I wanna sear your flesh,
with the intensity of my love.
Physically,
stoking the feelings in your soul.
I need air,
and proding,
and a little compassion,
before you can expect me to keep you warm.
I'm lifeless.
I am not earth,
wind,
water,
or burning,
churning,
incinerating,
fire.
I am waiting.
I am flint.
I am spent.
Spark me,
please,
I am eager,
to take care of everyone else,
before myself.
To mesmerize your eyes,
with my beauty.
I want to be too much,
a blue flame,
I'll hurt you,
but you won't even feel it.
I can **** you,
but without me,
there is no life.
I am over,
and I am done,
and I am waiting.

sunset blushing,
bleeding, rushing,
can i come back into the garden yet?
gradient fade,
where i once laid,
and lost the thorns to protect me.
time was fast,
on that dirt path,
and now i'm covered in you.
where i once bloomed,
and laughed and swooned,
is where i've now turned into weeds.
ever mowing, ever growing,
i can't get rid of me.

I want you to be my home,

and we,

will travel the world.

For the first time,

I will feel I am meant to be where I am,

wherever I may be.

you've tried on dreads, feminism, and barista.
i still don't know how someone who changes their identity
is always the same to me.
you are part of something called truth.
a word i still can't define, sort of like you.
waiting for a four word piece of art
to remain on you always,
you neglect to remember
you remain forever, just by existing to these people.
temporarily stuck in a sleepy town,
with your eyes wide open,
your heart beating fast,
like a bull at the gate, and sadly
we have realized
the world is sometimes a ***** red blanket
you want to take down.
but once you make it through,
this wall of comfortability
and lack of resonance,
you will find miracles.
maybe not now,
or five million words from now,
you might realize that you are of much more importance
than you ever thought you were.
so while you survive off a caffeinated IV,
and enchanting rock and rollers,
i will attempt to mentally record
the life of a legend
who will go to the grave,
denying they were even a legend
at all.

Your words fill the pages of my holy book.

I soak them in with blessed praise.

I will take communion from the longing in your eyes,

Nourish and rejoice in my abundance of you.

Enter your heart and treat it as my temple.

Respect with silence the miracles you bring me.

Baptized in your showering adoration.

Washed clean of my heart’s past torments.

I will present you the sacrifice of unbridled passion

And with abandon, trust in your embrace.

Hymns are your breaths between kisses

And these sheets, the alter for our love.

We will rest together until our last days,

In commemoration of the religion we have made.



© AlyssaStarnes

things break
at the point
of least resistance
that's why
we're *******
shattered
thanks to you
glasses can't
break
walls can't shake
because nothing
is even
here
anymore
i have my words
but they're not heard
they're just cryptic
incisions on paper
like you made on my heart
i can't read them
but i can feel them
brail for my soul
a tale never told
and my love for you
grows old
i'm weary
and i'm shaken
waiting
but i'm taken
by the ghosts of
should have
would have
could have
and maybe a mix of did
but you didn't care
the past is the past
those stones have been cast
and we
didn't last
but who's fault it that

The scent of your skin, and it’s heat against mine. How every bit of me fit right in you, and you in me. The warm salty water of my tears just serves as a reminder of the brevity of our broadcast love. But your smell still holds me. And I still remember your warmth. And I know how I fit in you, and that your body was made for mine. And those briefest of moments were beautiful. They felt infinite. You felt infinite. And our love. Well that is most infinite of all.

it's not so difficult  
to string words together for you
in a beautiful way
but when i answer your call at two thirty- six am,
i hope you know i love you.
it is not very hard to kiss your lips,
but when i paint you pictures
of what our love looks like
and send it with expensive stamps,
i hope you know i love you.
i don't try much when i wear that dress
you think i look so good in,
but when i sing your favorite songs
into the rook in your neck
while my lips are blue from cold,
i hope you know, i love you.

piece temporarily down for mental cleansing.

all i want to do right now is fill my pack with some clothes, take my passport, all my saved cash, and that photo of us and go to you. we can get on a plane, and just get the **** out of here, just you and i.
and we will go wherever we think looks pretty on the light-up screens in the airport. and once we get there we will be happy and alone, just like we like it. together.
and the very best part is that we will be happy and alone together on the way there and the way back and all that time in between. and that is what i want to do right now.

i think about the distance.
how many miles my tires would tread,
turning and turning like the thoughts in my head.
how many drops of gas it'd take to make the journey
how they'd slosh around in my tank just like the
butterflies in my stomach.
due to the prospect of meeting someone i'd never met
but loved wider than the wingspan of an ancient creature
almost as unfathomable as the relationship we've conjured.
maybe it's the celestial coincidence of being born on the same day
of dreary november, almost december.
or the closeness of our relatives who it seems sometimes
wonder why they even planted the seeds of this flourishing friendship in the first place.
mostly i think it is the fact that we are the same
in so many more ways than we are different.
your fingers conduct an orchestra of sound, while mine scrawl out epiphanies on paper
but we're both making miracles, aren't we?
we're both falling in love with the world at the same time, under the same moon, under the same strain of heart
longing to be together
but mostly to be away
from the places we are at right now.
you want my sunshine, and i want your rain.
but i think we secretly just want to be in the same room as each other,
even if it was only regurgitated air conditioning filling our lungs.
because our eyes, for once in our ******* lives would be witnessing visualized faith.
i'm speaking for myself,
but i think we both have found the truth in one another.
and when everyone else leaves you don't arrive,
you stay.
and when i am in pieces,
you remind me you are too,
instead of forcing mine together in a pattern
neither of us would ever be able to decipher anyways.
you make me laugh.
i mean, really laugh.
the kind where i can barely inhale oxygen, enjoying the momentary euphoric absence of necessity, and simply relishing in the smile stretching through my soul.
you tell me i am beautiful in one of the first ways i've ever believed it
and remind me everyday that shouldn't be the case.
we have strange ways of speaking, and sometimes things don't come out quite right,
but it is a different thing to be understood by you.
i know more strength in our separation than in the proximity of some blood
and i swear i can almost hear your heartbeat if i'm quiet enough.
sometimes at night when neither of us can sleep,
much to our chagrin, i read your words on the neon screen
within my palms, in the tone of your voice
and i could swear you were there,
with me,
reminding me we are vastly unaware of what we are to become,
but helping me celebrate what we already know of the labyrinth we inhabit.
when i have to validate the present conditions we are in,
i choose to validate the other conditions i know to be true as well.
we have walked the ravaged earth together in ways, each day growing older in synchronicity.
we spend them in the same zone of time,
the sun setting on each of our days at the same hour.
each of our mornings it greets us with beauty and a knowing
that one day it can glow on our toes, then up our legs,  our stomachs, and finally up to our hearts,
warming us at the same time, from the same place, in the same room,
and all of the sameness may be overwhelming,
even to the glowing radiant life from which this has all had the chance to bloom, but maybe it will be alright
to not be prepared for something wonderful
for once.
i promise to listen to you play, and sing along horribly.
i promise to come to all of your shows, even the ones on the couch.
and i promise that every day i will see your dreams
with the same vivid clarity you do, because you are something i know how to believe in.
and so when you remember to believe,
i hope it is the closeness,
that you see.

I’m so tired,

but I could break every dish in this place.

If I screamed,

and bled,

and fell to my knees,

would you even walk over to clean up the mess on your floor?

Mr. Incredible,

waiting for your wonder woman,

but who the **** is a hero,

when no one’s being saved.

Trusted you,

thrusted you,

and now,

i’m disintegrating,

rusted in you.

Cut from the same cloth,

but i’m fading.

I’m torn up,

and spilled on,

and nothing but new is good enough for you.

Took me away,

bag me up,

may wind up at a good will.

But all I had was good will,

good intentions,

muddled by imperfections

you must not have been able to look past.

But ain’t that the ***,

calling the kettle ******.

You’re riddled with the same mistakes as me,

breaks as me,

teased about your weight like me,

face like me,

the braces that used to cover your incisors,

but mine weren’t.

I was always straight with you.

And one time,

I was late with you.

And then,

you ran.

Cause our mistakes,

could only be placed on me.

Now,

i’m tired.

Cause I could have held part of you,

but I just held the burdens.

And I did so gladly,

I wore you like a crown.

I sported you rightfully,

but you thought you entitled me.

Again about me.

Even when i’m dissing you,

i’m wishing I was kissing you.

Cause you helped make me,

baby.

But now i’m your creation,

sitting here waiting,

wishing I was breaking,

everything,

but us.

We used to wave at trains.
Because we thought they cared
When we were getting smaller and smaller
Behind them.
We thought they cared
Because our parents cared
And our teachers cared
And our friends
And we cared.
That's when we cared.
About the people we didn't know
And the places we'd never been
And when we made someone cry
It made us cry.
When was the last time you cried?
Because it wasn't because of me.
I can be almost sure of that.
Do you ever think of the things
I do to your body?
Or just the composition of all the little things
I am not.
I try not to fancy myself
The philosophical type
But when I think of the reason I am here
I can never push away your blue eyes
Or crooked smile
Or your calloused hands
Or the days you couldn't push me away either.
We have a lifetime ahead of us
Filled with cabs
And airplanes
And buses
And boats
And trains that we can get off together,
Instead of getting smaller and smaller
To each other.

I like your skin
when it is covered in goose bumps
I like to stroke my fingers
lightly,
lightly
over the surface
and feel changes

I like your skin
when it is rough
I like to examine your calloused
hands, and hold them
so tight,
so tight
it reminds me of your past
and how you survived

I like your skin
when it is freckled
I like to look at the map it makes
next to my skin, where we match
perfectly,
perfectly
I wonder where we'd go
if we followed our flesh

I like your skin
when it is wet
I like the way the water runs
between us, but never washes off
our love,
our love
I like when it shines
but even in the secret dark

I like your skin
when it is touching mine
I like how you feel my heart,
shoulders, stomach, thighs,
and the rest of me so
slowly,
slowly
I like when there is no space
between ourselves

I like your skin
when you like mine
I like how my smile makes yours,
and how my laugh does that too
I like the way I tickle your knee
over,
and over,
I like when you kiss my skin,
and know it is your skin too

i have a light inside of me.
sometimes it is a prickly light.
like last summer's berry picking,
and your legs in the back of his pick up.
sometimes it is a drowning light.
like your third cheap beer,
and jeans on the fourth of july.
sometimes it is a dim light.
like the pretty dress he never hugged you in,
and the bruises all down your thigh.
sometimes it is a calm light.
like the first long drag off your cigarette,
and a dry kiss on the cheek.
sometimes it is a beautiful light,
like a palm pushing out from your stomach,
and the long road out of this town.

my fingers and empty palm
grasp the air
over
and
over
again
like a helpless
and desirous child
every strain of my ligaments
the pull of my flesh
pounding of my bones
reaching and reaching
for nothing
I am capable of achieving
you are there
and I am here
and us is nowhere to be found
but I made up a fifth direction that was you
and you were a whole species of your own
if I recall
a mystery in and of yourself
but I had you figured out
I was not lost, because you were my destination
I was not forsaken, because I had discovered
something, you
the past is the past
and I wish it could last
but ain't that thing
about life
as long as your living
it's all really slipping
but you were all right
and we were all right
and it's alright
that things aren't the same
things went and we came
you took me for the first time
and all times
and this last time,
well that was such a time my dear
your breath was sweet
and my skin quite enjoyed
how your lips introduced themselves to my neck
and how our bones became quite the acquaintances
because that is it love
time is the past
and also right now
and the next time I see you again
but lets not make that a plan
the next time your hand hugs my hand
these state lines divide us
phone calls imply trust
our love is always exposed
both of us always will know
so if fate loves us to
it will kiss me and kiss you
and stone will at last set our stage
no need to write a last page

i want to see the pigment of your eyes
what if they are more than i imagine?
i want to feel the coarseness in your voice,
reverberate against my soft skin
what if it is more than i can fathom?
i wish i could stop asking questions,
but glad you make me ask them
should i dye my hair a brilliant purple,
tattoo 'crazy' on my collarbone,
act like someone you just met, but have always known?
there we go again, asking rhetorical questions
because you can't answer
when you have to hear across the clatter
of all fifty states, wish for clean slates
or some time in your bed, wake me, from the dead
just like we play it, cause we're so demented
our hearts are black, our breath cigarette scented
we don't buy into religion, or this world we live in
and the last thing i vest my faith in
is you
with your black and white art, the way you pull me apart
and ****, your heart is beautiful
i devour you unusual
and wish that i was what you craved
made you this manic and depraved
or at least that i could cure you
that you might maybe pull through
so we could spend our time together in the graveyards
the sun would shine on our arms
where we intertwined like vines
fade like passing time
and finally be alone
finding solace in our home
but i'm wasting precious hope, becoming my own ghost
because i can't take what isn't mine
so i'll get drunk off ancient wine,
pretend that i am fine
and wait for morning to face me,
wait for scars to grace me
and while you wait for C,
i will save your seat
on the shore of this warm ocean,
cause i know your wounds are open
and the salty brine
of love and rhyme
will heal them all, from me.