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Annabel Lee Aug 2014
I am a terrible dancer.
But for you I would dance,
I would twirl and spin and slide,
to whatever music you gave me
my clumsy clomping feet would suddenly
for a moment be graceful,
just for you.

I am a terrible singer.
But for one glance of your smile
I would climb each stumbling, soaring note
I would belt out my love for you
singing along to the radio in our car
tremulously letting song fill me,
just for you.

I am a terrible writer.
But I compose this poem out of
nothing but love for you
-- because I have nothing else --
and I'd rearrange the alphabet
a thousand times over
til it forms the words I want,
just so, on the page,
just for you.

I am a terrible artist.
But I would cut my heart and bleed
my love for you to paint with;
my body to be a sculpted statue
a monument of ******* and hips and desire
only for you.

I am a terrible lover.
But all I can say is that I try, with all my might
for you to know my love, feel my love
and not just when we are entangled in each other but
even when we walk side by side down the street,
when my fingers brush yours unexpectedly,
in the way you rub your eyes when you are tired
and the way you stare at me for so long I get uncomfortable,
saying, "I just like to look at you."

I see you and my love is
always for you, always with you,
a glow of me in all you do because
I am standing on this cliff edge and
it's too late, it's too late
I've given you all of me, and even if it
destroys me
there's no coming back

Everything I do, I do for you.
Annabel Lee Jul 2014
i'm sitting in this car and for some reason i can feel my heartbeat
throbbing in my back,
i think of the last time i thought about you, and how
i wanted to die because i can't be with you; how
melodramatic and filled with these unavoidable clichés
i am

i love
you, tenderly

my window rolled down, and the weather is dry
as my eyes in this night
but it should be monsooning because
inside, my heart is a river and i'm just trying
to stay afloat.

i'll never look at my hands the same way again,
not after i saw the way they looked interlocked with yours
and my fingers are tainted by your lips, the way
you kissed them so gently and told me
they were beautiful.

i see things that remind me of you
- stripes, for example - and
i have to stop for a moment
because i'm shuddering under a crashing wave
of you, you, you,

my mind doesn't hold memories; it holds moments of
perfection, and
you are my perfect moment.

"I try."
"You don't have to."
Annabel Lee Jul 2014
I just want to talk to you.
Yeah, I want to kiss you and
hold you and make you laugh
and smile
but the fact that
I think about you when
you're probably not thinking about me
is what is causing this huge aching painful emptiness
inside of my chest, a spot that used to be filled
with the warmth you caused whenever you said my name.
I just want to spend time with you, in your presence
knowing that all your smiles and jokes and stories are
directed to me, just to me, because I know I'm your
one and only.
And I've said this before,
apologizing for how utterly stupid I sound
and hating the way this silly cliche sounds
clumsily falling out of my mouth but
how can you not see
the way that you completely
drive me crazy?
haven't written anything in a while... but here's something I wrote a long while ago
  Jun 2014 Annabel Lee
When I was young, my Sunday school teacher said that my prayers lacked genuine emotion. She told me to try praying with a blanket wrapped around myself and my eyes shut to imagine that God was there holding me.
I always wondered why God wouldn’t actually hold me. I still do.
And I know that I have a lot of expectations of God for someone who doesn’t believe in God but my hope has been so hard to let go of.
But if we are made in his image, why should anyone let their hopes get so high?
Do you know how to keep a stranger from crying?
Do you know how to mend the bullet shaped holes in your mother’s voice? Of course not.
Do you know how to end a war?
Do you know how to be content?
Do you know how to be happy?
I imagine that sometimes God gets unhappy.
If we are made in his image I can only hope that he continues to evolve as we do, allow his followers to evolve as the world around us does because I swear I will lose my **** if I see one LGBTQ+ youth commit suicide. If I see another woman get kicked out of her church for aborting the child she couldn’t afford to raise. If I see one more country start a war over what they believe; God, can you see?
You’re tearing us apart.
You’ve turned humanity into a human race.
You’ve turned our earth into a military base.
So please, God, give us something to trust. Give us your saving grace.
This is supposed to be a spoken word piece, hopefully it won't sound too off
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