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Jun 2020 · 186
20:15
Chloe Jun 2020
It's fifteen minutes past 20:00.
And I'm wondering what they're doing.
Are the discreetly concocting a plan?
Or do they strategize their next stand?
The ones with a simple slogan.
In a world abruptly awoken.
And shaken in the wake.
Of all the colored ones they take.
Black Lives Matter.
And it couldn't be sadder.
That it's come to this stage.
Where we now must rage.
So remain steadfast.
Honor those who have passed.

It's thirty minutes past 20:00.
Feb 2020 · 155
Weep then Sleep
Chloe Feb 2020
Sleep is for the
weary
dreary
teary
and merely
the leery.
So sleep dearly.
B
Apr 2019 · 207
Cat on a Cable
Chloe Apr 2019
And I'm walking too close to traffic again.
Performing a tight rope act along the white line.
Clutching a balancing pole triple my wingspan.
Caught between chaotic turbulence and moral serenity.
Vehicular slaughter to my left pulses with life and a promise.
A promise of apathy, implosion, corrosion, and erosion.
The cars whip the air into a frenzy as they zoom past.
Buffeted from gust to gust my balance wavers and I feel it.
That dormant inclination towards self-destruction awakening.
And like a cat caught on a cable, exhausted and scared, I want to leap.
**** the consequences just to end the uncertainty, the stress.
But the people on the sidewalk.
Some grab hold of the balancing bar offering it stability against the gale.
And somehow I find a way to hold on.
Mar 2019 · 180
Nothing to Say
Chloe Mar 2019
I used to have something to say.
Way back when.
Until my fingers broke.
Leaving me wincing and swearing an oath.  
Four years of nothing.
Just twiddling my thumbs
and popping tense moments out of my joints.
Every crack of my knuckles sounded
the passing of another second of idle hands.
Surrounded by the Devil's work,
I had nothing to say.
Maybe it was an emotional barricade.
A way to keep it all at bay.
Now don't get your hopes up.
This isn't a written piece.
Because I have nothing to say.
Aug 2017 · 802
A Shoulder to Cry On
Chloe Aug 2017
You offered me your cold shoulder to cry on.
The chip pressed against my skull,
and made the tears flow even faster.
What happened to the base of my support?
You replied by letting my weight drop.
I was nothing to you.
Armed with my trust you burned my heart.
Left behind marks of betrayal.
My dream catcher only knows nightmares.
Jul 2017 · 400
Revived Embers
Chloe Jul 2017
And I’ll start a fire!
Even use a dead lighter.

To emphasize my ability,
of thinking with agility.

I’ll stay alive.
Maybe even survive.
Nov 2016 · 335
Hallowed Halo
Chloe Nov 2016
From the backseat I draw in the cherry spark.
The smoldering ember is like a blood clot
trickling through the joint similar to a blood channel.
Crackling gently the paper incinerates backwards.
Leaning back, lazy lungs breathe and revel in the scent of recreation.
Musical frequencies pulse through the skeletal struts of Dj’s car.
Rhythm and rhymes nestle close to the curve of my spine;
the bass sinking in deep into the folds of my clothes.
Blue brushed lighting flows through the windows in slants.
For an instant I find myself in rumination quickly leading to ruination.
Cows in the distance low to us, intrigued, pulling me back.
Holding fast I overcome the air restriction.
Gathering the smoke into my mouth I shape my lips and blow.
Hazy rings begin to slowly emerge from my mouth.
Taking aim I direct the loops over the back of Bryce’s head.
It gives the distinct impression of a halo
as the rings inhale and expand before disappearing
like an ethereal specter into his dark hair.
Nov 2016 · 358
Windswept
Chloe Nov 2016
Some days, in my head,
it feels like I'm at the epicenter of an earthquake.
Other days it's like I'm in the eye of the hurricane.
Aug 2016 · 379
Caffeinated Medication
Chloe Aug 2016
What is it with coffee?
It’s found in all areas of trauma.
The hospital, AA meetings, rehab centers, and police stations.
I suppose the black familiar taste is meant to numb the tongue and mind.
Sleepy eyes blink slowly over rising steam.
The dark puddles beneath their eyes
drips and drops into the black coffee.
The two elements commingle and understand the other.
Red rimmed and swearing irises glare hopelessly at plain Jane walls.
The waiting game is played in those spaces.
Why offer a stimulant to the wound gears of anxious relations then?
Coffee is a fix-it-all in these areas of trauma.
It’s the unspoken comfort everyone clings to
with slick palms and quivering fingers.
When the sinking suspicions of doubt drops people go for coffee.
What exactly is it with coffee?
Wrote this on the very first morning of my stay at the Psych Ward
Jun 2016 · 331
Forget
Chloe Jun 2016
There are many things I wish to forget.
Specific past events already set,
irrevocably in the cement of memory.
An everlasting impression of stupidity.
I dog these thoughts through twists and turns.
Never stopping to reflect and learn.
These days blur.
These days grind.
How am I supposed to find the time,
to turn back the clock,
straight to the beginning.
To a place before corruption and all this sinning.
I have apologizes to say.
Amends that must be made.
But time led me astray.
And refused a soul that could’ve been saved.
The soles of my feet are tired.
Electrical short circuits is how I’m wired.
My head is full of riddles.
A torment of what if’s and little,
bits of shrapnel.
My stomach is a pit of regret.
That is why I want to forget.
Jun 2016 · 285
100% Human
Chloe Jun 2016
Two years ago I lost 30% of my GIRL.
A man had robbed me of it in his room.
We struggled against each other on the bed.
But he was 100% MALE.
And I was slipping in and out of consciousness.
I still remember the feeling of him
scraping against my insides.
Scooping out chunks of GIRL.
He must’ve knocked some screws loose too.
Because not long after I became mad.
Both outraged and crazed.
The madness seeped into my psyche.
Infected the marrow in my bones.
Before I knew it I was
70% girl and 30% mad.
100% human in total.
Apr 2016 · 399
Prophet of God
Chloe Apr 2016
The most magical thing to happen to me
was when my mind took a break from reality
and got too lost in a fantastical fantasy.
When your brain has as many fractures
as mine it’s really only a matter of time
before your cheese slides off your *******.
I was the Prophet of God.
And my declaration of the coming apocalypse
ruined any semblance of credibility I might’ve had.
Paranoia kept my mouth shut about the happenings in my head.
I couldn’t trust anyone with my skewed truth.
They would’ve only diluted my message.
When you go crazy your fantasy feels like reality.
I had all the answers, or so I thought.
So I took down names, initials
of the people I wanted to save.
I prepared myself for the violence and
the responsibility of taking care of my people.
And I prayed probably more than I ever had in my life.
Because I was the Prophet of God.
Apr 2016 · 1.0k
Dark Intimacy
Chloe Apr 2016
We leaned into each other's personal space.
The pebbled surface of her bicep rubbed against my tattoo the skin gently rasping.
When she stepped close, close enough our arms brushed, I was reminded of how well she knew me.
We shared a dark intimacy over identical experiences.
She understood my demons on a deeper level.
I felt less alone with her, less fake.
Our mutual knowledge of the other meant I didn't have to pretend.
When I had to leave home she sheltered me.
For a week I learned about her experiences, quirks, triggers, and lifestyle.
Nothing was left out.
It took three nights before I could be coaxed into her bed.
I had been sleeping in the closest unwilling to join her.
She lent me her car during my stay.
Her driving privileges were temporarily revoked.
I drove her everywhere.
Everything we did had an undercurrent of personal knowing.
It was a private understanding of the other.
It brought us closer in more ways than proximity.
Oct 2015 · 446
Amuse Me, Muse
Chloe Oct 2015
I had a muse once.
It was a six foot tall “him."
For two years we roamed the city.
Brother and sister, shoulder to shoulder.
Riding the various highs we explored the world.
He sometimes complained Salem was too boring
as his fingers twisted up the volume on his stereo.
Yet we always found ways to pass the time.
I watched him on every outing.
Memorizing the way his arms arced with speech
and the way his smile would hang from a hinge
slightly lopsided and askew.
I would’ve fled, bled beside him.
We were partners in crime.
Inseparable.
I saw him every day
in body and writing.
When our fallout happened it felt like
I had lost another brother.
Now all I have is a dusty muse.
Sep 2015 · 460
A Visage of Friendship
Chloe Sep 2015
When I look at your face
my heart aches to trace
the line flowing down your nose
like running water from a teapot.
My eyes run up under your cheekbones
on hands and knees attempting to scale its surface.
I blink snapping a photo of your lips as they pour forward into a pout.
Light reflects off your eyes brightening their color.
While your ears curl inward away from the light
gauging the waiting circular darkness at the end.
I pay attention to your chin and the way it juts stubbornly.
To your jaw and how it settles the weight of your teeth.
Your face is a picture of words inside my head.
And my heart longs to memorize the clarity of such simple beauties
like the wrinkled grooves embedded in the bridge of your nose
or the petite quirk at the top left hand corner of your mouth.
I could look upon such wonders for days.
Your face speaks of friendship.
A visage so unlike any other I can describe.
Jun 2015 · 1.3k
In a Perfect World
Chloe Jun 2015
In a perfect world…
Women aren’t ***** at such high rates.
They don’t suffer from debilitating invalidation.
Societal pressures to deliver a baby conceived by ****, nonexistent.

In a perfect world…
Families are carefully planned with the right ingredients.
Women aren’t the only ones getting the **** end of the stick trying to
raise
care
build
a better human
than the ones already in the world.
Once that child is grown s/he has three options
become a well-adjusted cog in the clockwork of society
become a criminal that actively tears at the seams of society
or become an unexpected victim to society.

In a perfect world…
Women aren’t brutalized just to satisfy a man’s ego.
Our worth isn’t based on reproducing and rearing children.
We aren’t objectified; cut, chopped and reassembled
like slabs of meat a butcher can trim on a whim.
The v between our knees and the ******* on our chests
aren’t the most coveted features of a feminine figure.
Our brains and intelligence are the commodities, plus they last longer.
We band together in an effort to empower one another.

This isn’t a perfect world we live in though.
Jun 2015 · 490
Candied Women Aren't Sweet
Chloe Jun 2015
Am I candy
or eye-candy?
Was I candy the night
he violently unwrapped me and
stripped me of my striped coating
his flesh slick with sweat, always rubbing?  
His ravenous lust was too much to contain.
Just like a man’s anger when he shoots up a school.
His hands found mine when I fought
melding into manacles before
cementing himself at my core.
I didn’t want this.

I am not candy.
My sweetness has long melted.
There’s a biting bitterness in me now
injected right between my hips.
May 2015 · 458
A Roomful of Pain
Chloe May 2015
Pain is nothing but a series of ever-growing rooms. We all start off in a small room, sometimes a broom closet or maybe even the crawl space. It’s in room one where we learn about scraped knees, broken bones, bruises, and illness. Once we've learned about the beginning of pain we move forward into the next room.
It’s a lot like the last room, only bigger and harsher. Again the process is repeated but with heartbreak, betrayal, depression, self-harm, and anxiety as the key wounds of room two.
Once those have been conquered room three becomes available. Theft, ****, attempted suicide, and addiction reside in its musty corners. And again we familiarize and learn about these mounting pains broadening our empathy.
Of course not everyone follows the same linear path. People end up jumping from room one to room three before even setting foot in room two. Others might find themselves having to double back to the same room over and over again.  
The furthest I've ventured is room three. Every day I find myself pacing within its four walls trying to make sense of my hurt so I can move onward to room four. I’m not even sure I want to though. One room leads to another larger room. The only difference is the severity of the pain.
I know this isn't exactly poetry but I'm just so glad to have written a little something that I wanted to share.
Apr 2015 · 452
Spilled Milk
Chloe Apr 2015
“No use crying over spilled milk.”
It’s the only thing I can think of
sitting on my bedroom floor
sobbing over a half gallon of milk
that had been put to waste because of me.
I forgot to put the milk back in the fridge.
It spoiled and my brother had to pour it out.
“I forgot.”
A simple enough explanation
but who really believes it
when it’s always the cause of my mistakes?
When things that had been so familiar
are now completely foreign to me?
A spoon had me stumped for thirty seconds once.
I don’t maliciously forget things.
I just forget things all the time.
Either chalk it up to my PTSD
or blame it on my perceived incompetence.
Mar 2015 · 443
Word Sparring
Chloe Mar 2015
Come at me with your insults.
Your “idiots,” “*****,” and “*****.”
Use your overused taunts all you like.
I’ll fire back more original ones just for you.
Why would I lower myself to slang and curses
when I can be just as scathing yet eloquent
through the use of everyday speech?
It’s an art form wielding words.
Mar 2015 · 497
The Attic of Human Horrors
Chloe Mar 2015
There’s an attic in my head where
I abandon memories to collect dust.
A lot of them were stored successfully
but a few weren’t despite great efforts.
Some memories aren’t tame.
Some are feral and wild.
The trap door to the attic started swinging open
not long after depositing human horrors in its maw.
The tar-like memories I was unable to quarantine
were dumped into the interior of my dome
blotting out my vision with the darkness of his room.
Memories take you back to places
and this was a place I never wanted to be in again.
More often the trap door began to open
spilling blackness, teeth, and hands everywhere.
Containment of such memories is nearly impossible.
There are demons in those recollections that pick locks
and find their way to your heart.
Feb 2015 · 1.0k
Addiction is a Fisherman
Chloe Feb 2015
Addiction has its hooks catching
at my pre-frontal cortex.
Fishing wires are attached to the hooks.
I’m snagged like a fish.
Dexterous fisherman hands reel me in closer
to the mahogany door of my bedside cabinet
where I stow Liquor Outlet *****.
I’m choking on each hollow breath
that whistles down my chimney throat.
My thoughts need to be bubble-wrapped
and stored in vintage chests at the foot of the bed.
Maybe I’m too eager to forget.
Maybe I’m too weak to resist.
All I want is some peace of mind
from the phantoms haunting my head.
I unscrew the bottle to drown them out
until spirits flood my bloodstream.
Feb 2015 · 434
Grounded in Space
Chloe Feb 2015
Nights leave me feeling untethered.
My feet hardly brush the ground.
Maybe I’ll float off into space
as my head is too light to remain bound
and the darkness ***** me underground
where he resides.
I claw out of a six foot grave every night
to get away from his hands.
Bottles crowd the surface of my desk.
I rise with sleep deprivation
sagging heavily from my eyes
and clothes drenched in sweat.
I just want to sleep.
Some nights aren’t as bad though.
Especially with your arm around my middle
acting as my anchor.
Feb 2015 · 495
Nighttime Demons
Chloe Feb 2015
Nighttime brings with it too many hurtful things.
They crowd my head pushing me into a sea of liquor.
My body remembers his touch.
Oh, how I wish I could erase his touch.
***** is my safe place.
I hide in intoxication and wish for sobriety.
It’s nearing 1 a.m. and yet my demons
continue to haunt my tortured soul.
Death sounds so much simpler than life.
Is that a bad thing to think?
Succumbing to the pain would release me.
But something keeps me here.
Perhaps it’s pathetic optimism.
I was always a sucker for “tomorrow.”
Jan 2015 · 1.3k
Damsel Under Stress
Chloe Jan 2015
I never wanted a hero.
I'm no damsel in distress.
All I wanted was a place
a safe place without duress.
Chloe Jan 2015
A deft ripple from my thumb flicked
ash to the wooden slates under my feet.
With a joint held between two numb fingers
I ruminated over the many things in life
traveled down the haunted hallways of my mind
all the while musing over the fact that
we don’t know what we don’t know.
Each thought was accompanied with
the exhalation of smoke and a dropped
bit of spent **** every now and then.
With the pain smothered
beneath a blanket of smoke
the Oregon’s early morning chill
the remembrance of past things
failed to sting as severely.
In the end a pile of gray soot lay at my feet.
Maybe I should get an ashtray
and use it to store my thoughts.
Nov 2014 · 1.2k
Catching Cooties
Chloe Nov 2014
Something isn’t right.
Perhaps I’m a little screwy.
I thought the fear of cooties
existed only within childhood realms.
It’s come back to me in my twenties however.
In grown up terms I think it’d
be referred to as a fear of intimacy.
In psychological terms PTSD.
It snags against the chip on my shoulder
catching and consuming my heart.
I’m afraid of cooties.
Yeah, let’s say that’s the problem.
“****” is such an ugly word after all.
I am a survivor of ****. Stay strong ladies.
Oct 2014 · 7.3k
Acceptance Requires Bravery
Chloe Oct 2014
Acceptance of another requires bravery.
Not the loud, brawling courage
brought and left on the battlefield.
Rather the quiet kind of bravery when
she catches glimpses of my personal darkness
and still stays.
Her type of bravery is when
the fractured light fixtures behind my eyes flicker
before going out, plunging me in darkness.
She sits beside me sharing that dark.
She not only sees my enraged monsters
but tries to befriend them, understand them.
At times I’m deathly afraid of myself.
But she never seems to be.
And that is the greatest kind of bravery.
Sep 2014 · 487
Alcoholic Dragon
Chloe Sep 2014
I like my spirits raw not mixed.
The best part of drinking is the savage burn.
After throwing back a shot
the spread of wildfire begins.
It ignites at the top of my throat
then flares down to the pit of my stomach
warming me like I swallowed hot coals.
I exhale a mouthful of fumes feeling
the heady drink already taking effect.
The flames blaze and lick at my liver.
I can’t help but enjoy the sensation though
because with embers flickering behind my teeth
and lava bubbling sluggishly at my core
I feel like a dragon.
Sep 2014 · 502
Cold Turkey
Chloe Sep 2014
At night the shakes disrupt my sleep.
I wake feverish, my body aching and
craving the fiery inferno of liquor
to ease the ****** tremors and the
ever present headache that
breaks apart my thoughts.
It hurts in every way.
Biting back audible distress
I curl into my empty stomach.
Hollow hunger pangs issue from within.
Alcohol withdrawal won’t let me eat.
Half asleep I clutch my ribs and wait it out
the way people caught in earthquakes do.
Eventually my mind sags from fatigue
the shudders rocking me back to sleep.
Chloe Sep 2014
Part of my job at the bakery
is handing out chocolate chip cookies
to happy drunks, chill stoners, and the
lone **** user.

Her approach had been shuffled slightly timid.
She moved, animal-quiet, up to the counter.
The pale white of her dress a stark contrast
to the inky pools brimming in her
irises and the jet in her hair.
An unnerving stillness settled around her
as she came to rest less than ten feet away.
Large, black eyes blankly inspected me.
Scabs ringed her mouth and I watched them
move in sync with her lips as she formed language.

I heard nothing.
I came in closer to hear better;
her wary gaze following my movements.
Up close her face was pocked and pitted.
Her pupils dimmed her starved features.

I asked, “Can I help you?”
Unblinking she parted her lips again.
On a whispered breath that ghosted
into hearing she requested
a cookie.

I handed her one wrapped in
blue tissue.
Ten slender fingers cautiously
came up to accept the baked good;
her oblivious yet observant stare never  
once straying from mine.
Her eyes were brick-lined wells.
And the longer I studied their depths
the more they collapsed inwards
away from me and the world.
Chloe Aug 2014
Rebellion smells like apples, cinnamon
and *****.
On a gravel road swallowed whole by
a surrounding forest of lush greens
we stood in opposition, revolution
firearms nestled in our hands.

We rebelled against alcoholism.
Drunk, amber soldiers stumbled across
the uneven surface of the log they vacated.
Our bullets shattered them one by one.
The rifle’s kick back slammed against me.
The cracking echo of each gunshot
filled the hollow chiseled in my chest
and tenderized my brain.    

Shards of hard cider and hard liquor
spattered the dirt; the bright red
of the Angry Orchards’ labeling
bleeding war into the earth and grit.

We searched for survivors.  
The air was perfumed with Cinnamon Apple
and *****.
The soft spice of autumn and harvest
wafted gently up my nose
followed by the sharp scent of
disinfectant, hospitals, stainless steel.
It was the smell of *****, my default.

Nudging a dusty bottle neck with my toe
I couldn’t help but think back to  
the angry, open-mouthed kisses
I once shared with my bottles
early in the morning until late at night.
A furious thirst surged through me.
I still wanted a drink.
Aug 2014 · 680
Exploring Black Holes
Chloe Aug 2014
His dilated pupils
wide and dark as they were
brought to mind black holes.
Their pull was irresistible
its gravity already
enveloping my mass.
Leaning forward as if
to add me to him
I cautiously peered
over the lip in his eyelids
to the tunnels of a man-made abyss.
For a minute I stared
legs dangling, fingers tangling
the sheets on his bed
thinking about choices and paths
and set destinations.

A line of white sand points at me.
Arranged just so upon the glass shelf.
I roll and unroll the twenty
into then out of a tube absently;
contemplating the barrier I knew
would shatter into nothingness
if the sand was inhaled backwards
like it could rewind time.
But I wanted black holes
in my eyes to explore
the vastness of it all.

Time rewinds, short circuits, and I’m here
in the cutting clarity of awake.
It feels good.
A lightning storm of sparks
crackling against my neurons.
It feels real good.

Licking my finger I trap the
white substance between
the ridges on my fingerprint
and scrub at my gums
enjoying this new-found better.

Throughout the night I
gouge tally marks of coke
into the walls of my nostril
and douse my liver
with shots of Tequila
getting increasingly more lost
in the eyes of my reflection.
Jul 2014 · 1.9k
Carousel Horse
Chloe Jul 2014
Run, carousel horse, run.
Try to understand the circles you’ve spun.

Staked and anchored to docile motion.
Acting out this ordered commotion.

The wooden platform on which you stand.
Turns to the song of repetition and demand.

Bright flashing lights and epileptic episodes.
Rusted machinery breathing out chemical corrode.

Dressed in painted costumes of false grandeur.
A perverse imitation of true splendor.

Children come to watch you prance.
They scream and order that you dance.

They yank on the reigns with savage cheer.
They poke and **** and hiss in your ear.

You’re nailed upon this dizzy ride.
Built from material and empty pride.

You live in a swirl of regret.
Time comes, it goes, then, you forget.

You’re an instrument of attraction.
Something you don’t feel even a fraction.

But, like clockwork you whistle a tune.
Of smiles and laughter and undercurrents of doom.

Run, carousel horse, run.
Try to undo the damage you’ve done.
An old piece I found in an old notebook.
Jul 2014 · 723
Counterbalance
Chloe Jul 2014
Pink balloon lungs are
blown to full elastic capacity.
Moody wraiths of smoke
plume and spiral unconcerned
against the rubber textured confines.

My lungs float and drift;
ever curious about physics
heightened atmospheres
oppressive gravity.

Wispy questions snake
out on each of my exhales
like barely there whispers.

They ask about Hindenburg’s disaster
cruelty expressed between man
broken laws in today’s society
moral codes of conduct
and lost lighters.

Cloudy answers gust
through his every breath
like a counterweight.

His lungs held answers
Mine held questions.
Jul 2014 · 439
Back to Back Sleep
Chloe Jul 2014
If I could sleep next to you
I'd sleep with my back against yours
and my eyes trained for things
you are unable to see facing forward.
Jul 2014 · 1.4k
Palm Print Bracelets
Chloe Jul 2014
He gave me bracelets
made from his palm prints
amid the disorienting darkness
of my faltering consciousness.
No!
With ease he intercepted the
weak, desperate blows my hands
my only weapons
failed to deliver at full force
during my precious seconds
in an unhinged awareness
of hazy drugs and alcohol.
And like a gentleman
he fastened his hands
around my wrists pretending
it were decorative jewelry despite
how they pinned back my hands
my last line of defense
like iron shackles before
another blackout became my cell.

His palm print bracelets
still encircle my wrists.
Jul 2014 · 443
Shadows and Light II
Chloe Jul 2014
She’s the shadow to their light.
Darkness colored her fingernails.
The polish glossed over the surface
blacking out any possible entrance.

Tinted glasses closed her off from  
the stares of the self-righteous
who saw only bad habits
a dark appearance
and criminal activity
in the way she stepped.

Tremendous rage swelled in her fists
and quelled any rational thought.
She kicked at asphalt, eager for a fight.  
An entire war of battle cries choked her lungs.
As the compulsion to break and be broken
snaked up the narrow passage of her throat.

She shattered her skull
in the hopes of finding clarity.
Jun 2014 · 611
Secrets in Pockets
Chloe Jun 2014
Front jean pockets,
I have found, will
often be cluttered
with infinite secrets
of past, present, future.
We mainly carry these secrets  
near the hips and pelvis.
So as we walk,
hood forward
neck bent,
head down,
ruminating, pondering;
our hands can broodingly slip
into the soft concealment
made from denim and dye.
To worry at the mistakes
in solitude, out of eyesight.
Jun 2014 · 747
Youth and Reckless Behavior
Chloe Jun 2014
You’ll take my hand; I’ll hop on your back.
The dusky colors break our cognitive track.

We’ll set flame to the dying ember.
Maybe get lost in nights of September.

Dim streetlights strobe and flicker.
Our distant minds struggle to decipher.

Cherry tip glow and smoky lips.
Pressing each memory against fingertips.

Heavy lidded eyes deep as an abyss.
Weak replicas of things we miss.

Human interaction of subtle relations.
Overstimulating our everyday emotions.

Wandering to destinations by detour.
Such is youth and reckless behavior.
Jun 2014 · 288
6/24/14
Chloe Jun 2014
I drink spirits at night
letting my phantoms
haunt me once more.
Jun 2014 · 375
In the Dark
Chloe Jun 2014
The darkness softens the edges,
of razor sharp ledges.
It strips away vision,
while creating the incision.
That separates the night,
away from the light.
Jun 2014 · 18.3k
The Color Blue
Chloe Jun 2014
I simply love blue.
It's the sea we plunge into.
The constellations absently traced.
Tremors of ice around my waist.
Hushed oblivion anchored in sleep.
Fragile tears we openly weep.
Canvas skies with crystal cotton.
Oceanic tides that calm and soften.
Jun 2014 · 840
Burn This Candle
Chloe Jun 2014
Burn this candle late at night.
Watch it flicker, watch it light,
up the darkness in your room.
Banishing the things that loom,
or stalk upon your very dreams,
with open mouthed screams.
So burn this candle late at night,
when you feel undeniable fright.
Jun 2014 · 845
Courage In Its Liquid Form
Chloe Jun 2014
Perhaps it was cowardice
that made me this brave.

I’m addicted to it now;
to courage in its liquid form.

The dry drag of depression
salts my tongue with sand.
My hands tremble in fear
when my teeth can’t clatter
around the hard A in alcohol.
So I drink my fill of courage.

Perhaps it is cowardice
that keeps me this brave.
Jun 2014 · 1.3k
Concrete Goodbyes
Chloe Jun 2014
Do not look at me and say,
“Goodbye.”
As our bodies pass and go
through the transparency of space.
The hushing scrape of concrete
rests in such parting words.
weighing me down with doubt.
“Goodbye.”
It sounds so final
like the last exhalation in life,
or the flutter of a paper heart
mimicking a white flag.
“Goodbye.”
It’s reminiscent of loss.
Jun 2014 · 729
Black Out Mementos
Chloe Jun 2014
She wakes up after drinking
glassy eyes rolling like marbles
rattling against her aluminum skull.
Last night’s poison congeals in her blood
leaving her fevered and sick.
Her mind is overcrowded with
the throttle of spray paint canisters
and the incessant buzz of fluorescent lights
tunneling deeper and deeper into her temple.

She wakes up to new hurts
ferociously spattered across paper tissue.
Bruises kiss her knuckles, her knees.
Cuts lace and stitch her arms together.
A cherry burn line stripes her shoulder.
Just vague memories of clumsy rage
and stress relief.

Shaky fingers flutter and brush
the ragged skin she wears
assessing the damage
dressing the damage.

Her black out injuries are mementos.
Jun 2014 · 611
Fragile: Handle With Care
Chloe Jun 2014
Fragile:
She’s thin in a hungry way,
and delicate in a sickly way.
She’s unused to how her hips jut out.
They catch the sharp countertop corners.
The pain whistles out of her like the shriek of a teakettle.
Her hip bones are colored with black and purple bruising.
Starvation has tapered her torso,
into the rungs of a ladder and the keys of a piano.
Countless fingers have ascended the ladder in her ribs.
Other times a melody was plinked out.
The cold easily crawls under her collar bone.
It breaks her skeleton and shreds her epidermis.
Curling inward she hugs and comforts her vital organs.
She feels like sticks and paper in the cold.
Handle with care.
Jun 2014 · 872
Childish Ignorance
Chloe Jun 2014
Let me be a child once more
as I uncoil this scratchy length of rope
and fashion it into the likeness of a lasso
that ensnares the necks of imaginary villains.

Allow me this one moment
of childhood as I scale this tree
reliving dusty memories
of skinned palms
and bad falls
placed in family storage.

Can we play make believe,
perched atop this mossy branch;
legs swinging beneath us?
I want to pretend
this is an execution.

It’s a struggle to fit the
loop over my head then
tighten the knot near my pulse.
I tie off the other end
*****, black toothed smiles
grinning underneath my nails.

Do you have any last words?
Yes, but they will be written
and safety pinned to my shirt.

Deep breaths, steady nerves, steely guts.
The familiar lurch in my stomach
from free fall rises in my diaphragm.
A snap, an involuntary spasm
and then the rediscovery
of blissful, childish ignorance.
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