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Jan 2013 · 630
We Tried
Amanda Bianchi Jan 2013
Our vibrant relationship
Was quickly reduced
To over the table glances,
Under the table hand squeezes,
Around the shoulder embraces
Between phone calls with Her
Outside the bathroom at dinner parties.
Until we combusted.
Forced to be involved forever.
But is that not what we always wanted?
Jan 2013 · 768
Remember, Remember
Amanda Bianchi Jan 2013
Remember, remember
When you dismissed my cantankerous dispositions?
When you assumed my sanity was in remission?
When you presumed (my own) death was my mission?

Just remember, remember
That with my moods came justifications.
That my wits were on hold because of a blood relation.
That with my sorrow came vast maturation.
Dec 2012 · 653
Shut Up
Amanda Bianchi Dec 2012
I dare you to find
the voice in my lies.

Three times
not so charming.

I tell you to lie
sheets
pillows
no need for blankets.

It's warm
yet icicles form.

Three breaths
no words.

Your back is to me
what my neck is to him.

Shy and unbroken
don't tell me how I feel.

I will tell you
how much I really miss you.
Dec 2012 · 530
Right Choices
Amanda Bianchi Dec 2012
I have been so good.

You have been good.

Approval for the disapproving,

What more could I ask for, really?

I have told you a thousand times,

Rainbows don't make charity

And high beams mean...

*******.

You don't listen.

I am a child.

Please stop telling me

That I mean the world

When clearly

I mean too much.
Dec 2012 · 519
Seventeen
Amanda Bianchi Dec 2012
He was real.
Made of blood.
Made of bones.

I shut my eyes
to see more clearly.

The illegitimate legitimizing
of a woman.

I tasted salt
and a cold body.

You tasted regret
and a sleeping beauty.
Amanda Bianchi Oct 2012
Oh hello!
High.

How aren't you?
Well.

Well?
Still the same.

Why don't you do something about it then?
I am doing nothing but everything.

Hm.
Well then, aloha.

Hi?
Not anymore.
Oct 2012 · 448
Hateku
Amanda Bianchi Oct 2012
That girl you know is
a total charmer, but why
would you call me then?
Amanda Bianchi Oct 2012
You really think you deserve this treatment, don't you?
Yes ma'am.
No sir.
Right away.
I'll remove that child immediately.

To you I'm a worm.
To me you are excess.

I guess you don't need to keep your shoes on.
That is totally normal.
Kick your feet up.
You bought all of these chairs.
(Probably all of the ones in my apartment, too.)

Three napkins is not enough.
Oops.
I am clearly a *****.

No I don't regret my tattoos.
But speaking of regrets,
slow down on that pinot.
Close your purple mouth,
I am embarrassed for you.

Check please.
See you tomorrow.
Oct 2012 · 1.9k
An Erotic Poem
Amanda Bianchi Oct 2012
I die when I think of you bare.
My sheets swallow me whole.
Don't tell mother.
I am laying in almost a puddle.
I can't think of a reason to care.
Crack three times.
And oh what a charm.
Running around in circles.
Circling the real issue at hand.
At palm.
At index finger.
Running towards.
Running away.
We are too bad to live.
And now I am dead.
Sep 2012 · 805
It's All Very Fine.
Amanda Bianchi Sep 2012
It's all very fine.
You and I.

We can laugh, right?
I can smile in your direction?

We hug,
but I don't feel passion.

We exchange compliments,
but you hand them out just as quickly to the next.

We accidentally brush against each other,
but you don't even notice anymore.

We kiss goodbye,
but now it's on the forehead.

It is all going to be okay , right?
We can be in the same room together?

It's all very fine.
I am fine.
Sep 2012 · 767
For Myself.
Amanda Bianchi Sep 2012
All I ever wanted was to feel the bliss of nothingness on my shoulders
and at last I can truly recognize a semblance of happiness.
What it is like to wade through life alone
without the yearning for spectacular conjectures
to refute any particular notions of my waning smiles.
Just born, but barely worn down
and I still have miles to give
and seasons to learn.
Sep 2012 · 730
Take Two.
Amanda Bianchi Sep 2012
And then
that feeling came back.

That feeling
that you would last forever
because it worked out so well the first time.

The familiar laughs
and looks
and gasps
and touches.

All leading to nowhere
but it feels so good.

A broken heart
is easier to mend
the second time around.
Aug 2012 · 2.6k
Lavender Tulips
Amanda Bianchi Aug 2012
You brought me my favorite flowers
and it was nice for a while.
'Till they melted.
They slid beneath the table,
into the cracks in the floorboards.
Crept slowly through the imperfections in the foundation of
the house we built together.
Slowly seeped into the soil
where tiny insects laid their eggs.
The little eggs hatched
and the babies started to feed on the earth around them
because it was all they could find.
The earth that contained remnants of my favorite flowers.
Baby insects grew into tiny vessels
travelling up to the air
with my precious cargo.
They made their way up towards the light,
through the soft soil.
But they are too big now
to fit through the damaged foundation
and only one manages to squeeze through.
He made his way through the cracks in the floorboards,
and up onto the kitchen table
where I smashed him against my palm and licked his sweet juices.
Aug 2012 · 895
To My First and Worst Love
Amanda Bianchi Aug 2012
My feelings for you
Feelings
They are somewhat
Displaced
By your inability
To empathize with
The grit of the earth.
Aug 2012 · 749
Hate
Amanda Bianchi Aug 2012
He takes a piece of me every time I go
but the machinations are superfluous
and I have more and more to give.
Aug 2012 · 722
Lonely
Amanda Bianchi Aug 2012
Tick tock.
                                                                                                                                                              Tick tock.

                                                                                       Tick.
                                                                                       Tock.
Tick.

                                                                                                                                            Tock.




                                                                          Tick.






Tock.
                                                                                                                                                              Ring, ring.

— The End —