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Aseh Feb 2015
How does it feel
to burn a hole into the evening?
Before our skins touch--let's sleep; let's heal
Not quick enough, yet
Still as an electric shark
All you're meant to be,
you are.

Mirror him; whisper him
Fly through his fingers!
Let's be stuck; let's be bound
Let's believe in what we found
Will you stay, or will you break?
Brother, it's insatiable ache
Will you walk away? Expectation
fills the space
where two lines
meet.

Sweet child, I have enough time
for you. So
let's plan for sunrise;
let's give in-
to low sighs.
Our haunt; our gaze
Our moment gently waits.

These chunks of flame devour pain
Dress us up in gasoline.
Like a spell; like a dream.
But I can't teach if
You're a machine,
and I wonder
if you know
how much I'd like to go
down deep

rising fast
sing and dance
scream what's left--
Not quick enough, yet
Still as an electric shark
All you're meant to be,
you are.
Aseh Feb 2015
Give me words
Until they mean nothing
Wrap me in their meaninglessness
Until I feel nothing

The only thing that's real
Is your energy

The way you walk with
Uneven footsteps and laugh
Too often at unsaid jokes
Shakes my core

I'm coming undone
Too much weight to carry

I am changed
People notice

Intelligence breeds anxiety
Or is it ignorance?
Which one overtakes me?

Which energy
chooses me?
Clings like a shadow to my back?
Claws and controls me?

Maybe I'll find what I'm looking for
In New Orleans' haunted
Purple gold walls
Streets slick with death
Drenched in a
Clownish haze,
Maybe I'll weep there,
Let it soak

I drank all your shame while I was
Sleeping
You left greasy fingerprints down
My back and they
Spread across my stomach like
Wildfire, my branches
Split like black veins cursed
Coursing with black blood
Evil
What voice speaks inside of me
Now?

She says I've lived in too many places
Too many energies have made love to me

Where is my identity?
Which voice do I know is mine?

An unsung chorus:
Bathe in salt, she says
Cleanse yourself in sunlight
Stay alone

So why am I so afraid to be alone?
This one's for Mary
Aseh Feb 2015
My hands were shaking
Not as hard as yours, I'm sure

You almost lost everything and I
was forced to watch,
bearing silent witness to a
destruction not my own
but at which I felt at fault,
thus I digested it as my own

Who knows?

In my mind, I had lived fantasies of
something like this happening--
you, helpless, I hold fast to your life and then
salvaging you, just barely,
scaring us both out of life and then
falling back into something new--
dark, strange, and yet intimate

This has happened to me twice now (for real)
and neither time was nearly as glamorous as
I had played out in my mind

(I'm a stupid girl)

Both times I felt drained of a vital energy I couldn't
call back--ever

I became an echo
of me
and us?
we were skeletons of
the children we once were. Both times
robbed me---
of sleep, and years, and appetite.
robbed me---
of innocence, and soul, and
love
which always
bleeds out uncontrollably
in times like these
unclottable

and out with love
spreads guilt and shame

(I'm a jinx, I'm a cursed girl)

across the tar, filling the black empty
cracks with invaluable energy

Full of foreign weight
cargo stored too long
too far pushed down our throats
too removed

My hands were shaking
Not as hard or as long as yours
I'm sure
Aseh Feb 2015
she's not perfection
she's big lips and eyes and sometimes people thin theirs at her in skepticism and dislike because of how she moves and smirks but
she's not perfection
she's awkward inside and self-deprecating
she's always afraid she's not quite right, off-kilter, buried far too deeply in her own misperceptions
she's not clean
she's tried every dangerous experiment offered to her, and
sometimes she feels like she's given too much of herself away,
because she wasn't sure what was important
enough to keep.

she's far from perfection, she's tainted
and she feels
a deeper emptiness than anyone could guess,
even though she will take the time
to heat her hair in perfect curls
and pick out the outfit that fits just right so that no one notices
the hurt inside and if she layers on the makeup to look natural so her eyes don't look so tired, she'll look brighter and smarter and less fazed and then maybe she'll appear to be closer to
the perfection that she's not,
cause she's a wounded deer, vulnerable and broken apart
and longing for the happy family she never had
trying to create her own reality
amongst all this vast and amazing
chaos....
aren't we all?
Aseh Feb 2015
i feel like an alien in my own skin
scratching through flesh trying to get back to myself
echoes of my youth ringing in my ears, clawing to get me
back to the way i was before
all the scruffy chins scratched up
my face, making me red and raw and exposed,
before hands meant electricity to me,
before i lingered for anyone other than
a ******* stuffed animal, and
before lips meant excitement and awkwardness and
even *******. i'll just
sleep all day to forget who i am and
remember who i was,
if she's still out there
somewhere.
Aseh Jan 2015
that feeling when (your) finger tips clutch (my) bare skin
veiled in casual apathy
we watch the screen in silence
not knowing what to say

i don't know what went on
behind your flickering eyes
as for me, the moment of contact
sent jumpy tingles up my spine

unexpectedly
my mind reeled forward
to unspent nights in dance clubs or backyard barbecues;
the way your hands felt in mine when we leaned in
lips still intact--
unbroken
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