in my imaginary past
he held me
with sharp elbows and bare knuckles
i am so comfortable
how will i survive
knowing you are in heaven
waiting for me to make a mistake
Please don't **** her
it's written backwards on my hand, my six year old wrists and my eyes that have been stung by spray paint i turned into a angsty manifesto
panting like a dog
begging you to stay
you were a walking nightmare
i need to evict you from my dreams
every mall, every antique store, every show, every high school reunion, every time I was dripping in glitter and perfume
leave my hometown and gravy heart alone...
the way you would get so angry when I couldn't be perfect.
an ode to my latest nightmare and my evil ex who still haunts my dreams
i am constantly trying to throw away costumes of myself when people float away
when they vanish
on the 9th when you are the seventh
with the bow
it's just brick and sawdust now.
I lost my soul.
Somewhere between Atlantic City and Wildwood, NJ.
The salt still lingers in my hair, eyelashes, and tears.
The moons changing cycle as we eat candy on the beach and chase our childhood memories away
Creating tiny drawers to stash away keepsakes and overdue dreams
You pet me like a long lost lover with a fragile hand
Brushing out my knots and curls before we continue to share our sparkle
I miss summer vacation in New Jersey
I dream with excess
As my body outside of my dreams writhes to be awake
But would I rather live in dreamland?
Where Everything is a weird flashback?
Seeing faces I tried to forgot.
Another skeleton laying on and kissing me at 8:30 am.
Fur coat lost as I saw one tree finally let go of her “mess”
Is it mania or love?
Is it fear or hope?
Living in the past isn’t a weakness
As muscles form in places you had no idea could exist
The minor turns to major
As delicate touch transforms into a strong embrace
Written while being inspired by my favorite burlesque performer and someone I consider a friend.
My fingers feel like the fireflies I never saw this summer
The fog in my brain is stronger than Gotham City’s
But a comic book reference is so lame.
I can feel you already wanting to loosely pull my hair as you whisper cheat codes into my hair.
I will always wake up and arrive.