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Jul 2017 · 413
(A poem a day) day 16
Circa 1994 Jul 2017
im a sexed up

cumwhore

after a drag on

your **** pistol.



im as quiet as a

mouse in my

shiny, black school shoes.



im a baddie

and im thinking

of your head

grazing against my teeth instead

of this (decadent)

cherry –

now you know why im drooling.



im a gracious

guest and the

hostess with the

most-est, covering

my mouth when

I laugh too hard,

mixing a cocktail

that’ll put hair

on any man’s chest
Jul 2017 · 444
Cherry picker
Circa 1994 Jul 2017
I’m looking at your mouth
you’re looking at me,
my fingers curled around the blunt your plug has graded as a “pearl”
we’re passing notes with her eyes and
you’re playing it cool, that is until your eyebrows give you away – springing up towards your skull.
I find an excuse to say “****”
so you’re thinking of mine as I push wet fruit between my lips, still hot from the smoldering
I sense the very moment everyone else in the room catches onto our game.
lowering my gaze as a hit goes straight to my face
the smoke clears
my fingers linger
dangling the roach over your water glass
I let it fall
Ash hisses as if to whisper
“it’sss cassshh.”
May 2017 · 1.5k
Internal dialogue
Circa 1994 May 2017
I’m sorry I didn’t tell you

I missed the feeling of your **** between

my lips

and your ***

when it drips

down my chest

and my thighs, pressed tight

are still slippery on the inside.

I’m an eel moving

with the pull of your current.

I’m a siren

singing full volume in the desert.

I want your elixir

your kingdom ***

in the bedroom,

but you’re not dreaming.

Late night snacking

on this *****

you’ve got a craving

and my hips

won’t quit

until you’re shaking

reeling

from the thrill of it.

Daddy goes down,

but his last call doesn’t come til’ sun up.

Shape me and mold me

every color of

your ****** deviancy.

I’m not a cure,

but I’m fixing

to explore the furthest reaches of your boundaries

of this bed

of your – flexed fingertips.

I’ll wake you with my mouth

if you put me to bed with yours.

I’m pleased to please you,

sweet release in these sheets,

tangled up inside me.

Your aftershocks got me shook.

To the boy with the eyes,

the color of the sea –

I fell into more than your bed.
May 2017 · 494
How much
Circa 1994 May 2017
I am worth your last stick of gum
Your undivided attention
The window seat
A fleeting moment of embarrassment.
I am worth at least 75% of all the tea in China
The risk
Your Saturday nights turned Sunday mornings.
I am worth a long drive with no a/c just for the company.
Pretending it's your fault
Having my honor defended
Being noticed by senpai
Extra cheese on a pizza.
May 2017 · 357
Remembering to forget
Circa 1994 May 2017
Forgetting  easy
It's remembering that's hard.
It's retracing  steps
With all 5 senses.
The way he moaned when you kissed his neck.
The way she tasted first  thing  in the morning.
The nimble way your limbs fold together like lawn chairs.

I'm never leaving this bed.
Apr 2017 · 442
Goodnight 5am boy
Circa 1994 Apr 2017
You knew how i got all my scars
Except the one i got when you left
Apr 2017 · 330
Untitled
Circa 1994 Apr 2017
the boys that try and save me
don't know the damage my daddy did

the boys that love me
don't know how foreign that love is

the boys that know me
don't know everything
prayers are my new favorite currency
Apr 2017 · 270
Untitled
Circa 1994 Apr 2017
I'm a destructive mass of passions
and I will never fall in love the same way twice.
the first two were easy
but the third was my vice.

he left me
while he loved me
and I swore I left my body.

the ocean never seemed so vast.
Apr 2017 · 290
the brink
Circa 1994 Apr 2017
for a moment I touched the face
of something worthy of every ounce
of love I could muster.

but the tides change
and I never learned how to swim.
Mar 2017 · 1.8k
Nigger hair
Circa 1994 Mar 2017
I talk white they say
Dress white
Act white they say
That's why all the black boys want me
Why the white boys wanna try and **** me
Even though colored girls aren't they're cup of tea
My light skin is a kink
The way i enunciate makes me a fetish
The last black women my daddy shared a bed with was my mother
So why my daddy gotta ask about the companions of my slumber.
I act white they say but ask me
Is my *** phat?
Do i twerk.
I dress white
But they think it's okay to ask me
If they can touch my hair
A white boy once said it reminded him im a ****** even though my skin is fair.
How many white boys gotta stick they're fingers in my roots
To find the truth.
When you say I act white
What you mean is I'm not a stereotype.
You're pretty for a black girl
Talk good
For a black girl
Snap snap hey hey girl
Let me slide in
Thick thighs girl.
You're mixed right?
No way a sister could sound
So bright.
Tell me about your origins miss thang.
Let me put them other boys to shame,
I can buy you top shelf,
Get your rent paid
Better than the boy you wifed up to.
Lil shawty you should smile more,
It's a compliment ****
Stuck up *****.
Do i act too white
Cause I'll never start a fight
Is it white to get a degree
And make my own money.
Touch my hair if you forgot
White is not synonymous with superior
Cause amanda does squats to get an *** like ruwanda.
Remember i got a college dregree
Before you say some ignorant **** to me
Act White?
How dare you
Assume my character
Is defined by a color.
Mar 2017 · 458
Broken mind
Circa 1994 Mar 2017
Why be alone
When you can pine after apparitions
Of something better.
The good and the
Bad of it is
We don't always get what we deserve.
Why be bad
When you can fail at self improvement.
You're just a lil baby
Stumbling
Lil brat of some selfish lil ****
And that's why boys don't like to love you
But they love to use you.
Why feel sad when
You can choose to be happy you idiot.
Be mindful.
Be quiet.
Don't argue.
Don't prove yourself.
Don't care.
Pay your rent on time.
Be ****.
Be brave.
Be confident.
Submit.
Why be anything at all
When there's a great big ocean
For you to walk into.
Feb 2017 · 302
Untitled
Circa 1994 Feb 2017
he played with me
like I wasn't this delicate
beautiful thing;
because he knew I didn't want to be.

people take caution around beauty,
people fear this intangible thing.
they have it
or they want it
but it's not to be understood.

your steps are lighter
when you can't breathe.

and beauty brings forth
great suffering.
you're trapped in it
like lance through your heart
that puts you on your knees,

but you're still all  alone
you beautiful thing,
Feb 2017 · 320
big FEELINGS
Circa 1994 Feb 2017
I have a big HURT where
my heart used to be.

I have a big EMPTY
that fills me with dread.

I have a red hot skewer
running through me,
making me
hot with anger.

(I have a big REGRET
that I am here.)
my teeth ache,
my nails break,
my limbs are sore,
can't return to how it was before.
But know this,
the antidote
is your kiss.
Dec 2016 · 398
Everyone hates you
Circa 1994 Dec 2016
Misunderstood,
Such a cliche thing to be.
I'm a user.
I'm a rude girl with a bad attitude.
I don't respond to authority well.
Clingy.
Selfish.
Pessimistic punk.
Teach me a lesson about my own existence.
Tell me not to roll my eyes.
It's instinct,
Like your inability to spew anything but verbal ****.
Tell me how it's because I'm young.
I know everything.
When I hear laughter I assume it's at my expense.
You don't like me,
What a big ******* surprise.
Thanks for giving me a reason to give up.
Circa 1994 Dec 2016
I want your fingers to dig so deeply into me,
they leave dimples behind.
I want a pornographic pout and
an iridescent smile.
gimmegimmegimme
a reason to lick my fingers in the night.
slippery as an eel.
my ***** is a portal to another dimension
it's the fountain of youth
a sanctuary
a maze
a happy ending.
my **** is the switch to my consciousness.
I exist in a state of
semi
lucid
euphoria.
dip me in gold
and put me on your mantel
for your viewing pleasure
Oct 2016 · 496
category 5
Circa 1994 Oct 2016
my bed is the void,
or at least I wish it was.
I feel like swirling and twirling,
in the abyss.
I want to touch the face of The Son
and be buried in the earth
so I can know what it is to feel the weight of it
pressing me downwwwwwwwwwwwnnn
                                                    wwwnnn
                                                              nn
                                                                  nn
                                                                      n before watching my bones take root

I am a weepy willow
in the midst of a hurricane.
I am sleepy branches,
I hang my head in shame.
Periods ****** hope,
they **** a sentence;
I wonder what else they can bring to an end
Sep 2016 · 700
bed time story
Circa 1994 Sep 2016
I am daughter to a man strung together from a multitude of inconsistency.
always late, lying about things
or with people he shouldn't be.
I am the product of a man who could not bring himself to give a compliment.
Trust is a five letter word synonymous with the word "myth" -
that is the greatest lesson my father ever taught me.

I love men who make promises they can't keep.
I love men that pull away,
make me doubt what I deserve.
I always wonder if my daddy thought I was pretty.

Boys love me when I laugh at their jokes
and make them feel like the most interesting thing in the room.
They like when I put their insecurities to bed.
Bed,
the most bittersweet place for a girl like me
to be.
Sep 2016 · 450
goodbye
Circa 1994 Sep 2016
I could have been floating on rainbow river,
but the fool I am - I stayed in
thinking we could make up for lost time.

But I should have seen this coming.
Because I did it too.
Kept making the choice that I knew hurt you.
prodding a wound with ***** fingers.

visions of my own death play in my head,
a silent movie that speaks volumes.
Oh, karma - how could I have forgotten you would return for me?
Taking the things I cherish,
sweeping away every good thing in your wake.

how can I fault him for my mistake,
look how long it took me.
but what good has it done me to do good,
when it's brought him no closer to me.

he's on the other side of a massive rift that grows deeper with every word he speaks.
I love you - a shovel in the dirt.
you're out with friends, and I'm lying in the sodden earth.
be merciful.
Sep 2016 · 651
when a night feels endless
Circa 1994 Sep 2016
upset tummy after a night of liquor
while I stayed in, unable to eat, getting sicker -
I can't hold down a bite,
my stomach won't have mercy on me.
Dry heaves,
wet tears
and a bed I wish wasn't empty.
it's night like these
I wish for my mother's womb -
a warm, dark place fit for the likes of me.

I don't know what I'm doing,
but it feels a lot like drowning.
being with someone
can feel scarily like -
you're holding your own hand.


I fear the morning,
because I'm afraid you'll leave in the night.
(That's how they all go.)
I don't know how to not be with you
but I've lost sight of how to be me.
I'm withering,
I can feel my flesh thinning,
growing loose on my bones.
It looks like I'm melting.
Circa 1994 Sep 2016
The worst thing about people is our capacity to disappoint.

This is the void they speak of.
This is the abyss.
Sep 2016 · 720
Automated voice message
Circa 1994 Sep 2016
It's easier to vent here,
Where the people that find what you have to say worth hearing - can, and do listen.

Maybe if I used auto-tune
When speaking about how I feel.
Or used catchy lingo
And played a sick beat
You
Would
H e a r
Me.

This whirlpool of useless words,
A point made a thousand times over -
Speaks no louder than a whisper
T(w)o ears that are closed.
If you don't hear it
You have no obligation to comprehend.
The sound of my voice is outdated.
I'm sorry, I did not understand. Will you please speak more clearly and say that again?
Sep 2016 · 285
Untitled
Circa 1994 Sep 2016
our perfect little bubble has popped
to make room for other people
and adult responsibility
and I feel the impact of open space.
im not used to air that doesn't belong to you.

im alone
I extend my limbs in all directions
waiting for something to catch
a preoccupied lover
a friend at work unable to lend an ear
a friend that's not a friend is choosing someone to bed instead.
he is coping,
the way I used to
in a way that would hurt more than me in the long run.

and there it is, right where I left it -
i s o l a t i o n      
---
and the worst bit is
it's me I have to keep my own company.
Sep 2016 · 252
5AMBOYS (8 of 99)
Circa 1994 Sep 2016
Fragile finger tips
That dip into you.
Dewy eyes because he's sleep deprived.

Filled with helium,
He floats up to the ceiling when he laughs - with a sharp exhale through the nose.
Easily deflated,
But not replaced.

Boy, oh boy
What I would give
To gingerly caress
That bearded face.
That face of a boy,
Hidden behind hair and glass and  others' expectations.

He is the end of a candle wick,
Unexpected and satisfying
He escapes in a spiral of smoke.
But I know his presence
by his smell.
(And cling to it when he vanishes.)
It clings to your clothes.
I inhale until my nostrils chaffe.
Linger and let linger.

It's light for him to be
And heavy when he is not.
But he is just a boy staying up past his bedtime.
A boy to whom my servitude belongs.
A boy in the shoes of the man he is becoming.

A boy in the midst of a growth spurt,
I kid you not
He loves me.
He love me n,
He loves me.
He love me no,
He loves me.
Not as an after thought
Sep 2016 · 512
5 A.M. boys (7 of 99)
Circa 1994 Sep 2016
every hour he grows nearer to perfection
until he turns to dust.
it's those sounds he makes before he falls asleep
that make it hard not to touch him in the night.

he dances through my dreams
with fistfuls of daisies
he says they're the color of me.
his words turn me to vapor, and I'll cling to the first thing I see.  

he is every living green thing.
he cleans the air around me.
he purifies.
he makes me drinkable.

I am fresh with bruises,
the kinds you get from bedtime wrestling.
I want to nuzzle myself into the space between his two front teeth
and use his uvula as a tire swing.
sliding down his happy trail, I'll explore my surroundings.

this boy with the electric tongue, that shocks when we kiss.
static at the tip of every follicle of hair.
lightning in his eyes,
always coming a few seconds before the thunder in his head.

he is the tang of honey mustard,
the swell of a sea,
the crackle of a record;
this boy that stays up til 5 A.M.
(just for me.)
Sep 2016 · 860
brownie points
Circa 1994 Sep 2016
I was teetering on the precipice
of something.
edging towards the glimmer.
mashing tongues,
you tore me limb from limb.
I'm glazed with sweat.
you baste me in honeydew.

in the bedroom we speak in vowels:
oooOOHHhhooo
uUUHhh.
AAAAaaahhh
The sounds of death,
Long awaited for.
I died like this every night and loved every minute of it, bruised down to my bones.
i i i, want moremoremore.
Give my teeth a whitening.

You are the eye of the storm
the first leg into a pair of pants
the bone with the best sense of humor.

you left me high,
but not dry.

accept this broken french as a gesture of my affinity:
je taime
tu me manques
je tadore mon lapin
bisou bisou
Circa 1994 Sep 2016
the world is a dangerous place for
daughters,
for sisters,
aunts,
nieces,
girlfriends.
she asks herself if she deserved to be
taken advantage of,
chased,
belittled,
grabbed,
hurt.
fear is instilled in each girl,
their rights withheld,
respect weaned,
voiced silenced
because of their anatomy.
filled with guilt at their mere existence
while rapists sleep soundly.
people say it wouldn't have happened
if you dressed more conservatively,
if you didn't lead him on,
he couldn't help himself,
it's natural,
you should be flattered you stuck up ***** I'm talking to you.
a man that goes too far is excused for being a boy,
while a girl walks to her car in the middle of the night, fearful for her own life.
a naked woman lying in the street is not asking for anything
that she doesn't speak.
why does the first "yes" mean "yes"
and the first "no" mean "persist" ?
why do you get an excuse to act how you want
but I'm not granted the same privledge every 28 days?
at what age do you tell her that she will be
violently pursued,
cursed,
assaulted,
undermined,
paid less
because the structure of her body.
Why does every girl have a heartbreaking story
that she was made to feel guilty for?
like she could have done something to change it,
when the thing that needs changing is the one that thinks "well you see the way she dressed, she brought it on herself."
I hope I don't have a daughter,
but a son instead
so I won't have to be the one to put fear in her head.
Aug 2016 · 343
needle in the hay
Circa 1994 Aug 2016
Let me tell you about my best friend. He is a trigger, pointed right at me. He is the last moment before dusk - a crisp line of color amidst a wide stretch of grey. With exotic lips, lush with an obscene shade of red-pink. Stout sturdy fingers feed into the wrist upon which I tug so that he is forever hurdling towards me. His limbs are animated by hesitance and laughter. his every pore a perfect seal. teeth like ivory, used delicately to inflict a pain pleasantly. His mind is an etch-a-sketch, a single line of thought expands into an organized madness. he is a man of many sounds, all of which tell you something about him - he is eager, sincere, boyish, enigmatic, pure. eyes alive like two magnetic coils, sizzling like a heated brand. he is more certain of the flicks of his tongue than the movement of his body and this speaks to his priority.  I've never seen a man more willing to love imperfect things. a patron saint in doc martens. he is ever unintentionally the accumulation of these things, to which the sum is incalculable.
love
Jun 2016 · 342
I cry errtiem
Circa 1994 Jun 2016
Sometimes if I cry without making a sound
I can keep myself from a full on sob.
But if I make so much as a peep,
The mere sound of it forces me to fully acknowledge that it's happening.
Forces me to remember why.
And I can't stop what begins thereafter.
Circa 1994 Jun 2016
You've made no effort
For me
But every effort to lift a bottle to your ******* mouth.

I love you
Im sorry
I miss you
Do not act as a get out of jail free.

You've sullied
Longing
Remorse
And affection.

You've made me the thing
You never wanted me to be
By never choosing me
Over superfluous drinks.

Hangovers
Tummy aches
Early starts
Never get in the way of you
And the thing that matters most.

If only I were on tap,
But I'm not the right blend.
Jun 2016 · 317
Untitled
Circa 1994 Jun 2016
Waiting at the airport.
But i was waiting long before that
For him to show up
For him.
To show me something
That thing
To remind me
That we're in love.

Waiting.
He is late.
Waits.
He's not coming.
Waiter.
He is busy.

He arrives
But I am gone.
At least I wish I was
Jun 2016 · 313
Untitled
Circa 1994 Jun 2016
My boyfriend is vanishing
Right before my very eyes.

I can reach right through him.
He's as hollow as his i love yous.

It's not his fault,
He's in a new place.
He can't help it,
The nobodies are more interesting than me.
Don't be bitter,
But I tell myself: "they couldn't **** a **** like me."
I tell myself: "forgive him"
And then, more quietly: "let go."
I want to touch you,
But there are consiquences to touching strangers
Circa 1994 May 2016
Other places
Other toys
Other sounds
Other boys.
Round and round
They spin within.
I am a spectator of my own life.
I am a child not a wife.
My liver still works
But soon it won't
For liquor is the elixir
For which there is no antidote.
Apr 2016 · 350
Karma, that bitch
Circa 1994 Apr 2016
Karma isn't always instantaneous.
The cruel reality is that it can be drawn out...........
It'll trick you into thinking you're safe.........  
You've escaped.
Baby, you may be money
But not enough to post bail
When it comes time to answer for your crimes.
Dec 2015 · 760
Lively
Circa 1994 Dec 2015
He was always looking for ways to classify his sadness.
But the way I see it
the world is a sad place to exist
and most of the time the people that live here
can push those thoughts to the very back of their mind
but sometimes they grow weak and the realization starts to creep back in and fill up your head until it feels like its pouring out of your ears
and you're sad and it seems like you don't know why
But sad is the normal response to being alive I think.
It's all the other emotions we experience that are abnormal.
Dec 2015 · 1.5k
Frndz
Circa 1994 Dec 2015
Pinky promise
Stick a needle in my eye
I'm rubber and you're glue -
All of me sticks to all of you.
Blanket forts
Pillow fights
Sleepy eyes
From long nights.

You're my partner in crime
My lover
And best friend til the end.
To counteract my mood.
Nov 2015 · 461
beside the point
Circa 1994 Nov 2015
he made her chest fill with air.
tight, constricting air that made her feel like she was suffocating.
tight, heavy, constricting air that suffocated her with sadness.
heavy, suffocating, uncomfortable sadness
that makes her feel spinny and her mind loose.
a slackened heart,
a tensed intestine
a clenched grin
while people drone on about nothing
she is a cavern.
she spirals into a thread of insecurity.
she lunges for shiny objects.
she is made of broken bones and glass.
she is everyone that has been pushed aside.
and she kept her promise not to cry.
Nov 2015 · 484
Gremlin
Circa 1994 Nov 2015
I know it is really late. But I can finally articulate it now. It bothered me because I thought of her like an ex. Only worse. Because you never decided you didn't want to be with her. No break up. No mourning. No closure. Because she said so...(But what if she changed her mind?)

And there was a time not long ago where I could grow to like anyone that liked me. It's a powerful thing to be admired. Makes a person feel mighty. How could it not? To have someone see the wonderful things in us that we can't see in ourselves.

And I didn't want this power to lead you to indulge in thoughts of what if. Because I found you first. And I'm not good enough for your goodness. And I'm afraid you'll only be mine as long as you don't realize this.

But I love you too much to keep you blindfolded. And I'll never be worthy but I'll always keep fighting to be deserving of all the love you've given me.
My eloquence returned to me as I was washing the dishes and I had to get these thoughts down or they would drive me insane because I would never be able to duplicate the clarity that I'm experiencing right now.
Nov 2015 · 746
Mindz eye
Circa 1994 Nov 2015
I need a drink like hella.
To soothe my sorrow and make me mella.
I ******* hate this mind of mine
Always churning
Won't stop til I d.i.e.
Plug up my eyes
Ears
Nose
And mouth.
Trapped in the sewage of my harmful thoughts
I am sinking in ****.
Can't breathe in
Won't breathe out.
Ded.
Too rekt.
Too ****** to give one.
It's all in my head.
I'm not crazy
But i wish I was dead to the world
At the bottom of the sea.
Nov 2015 · 591
Adulting
Circa 1994 Nov 2015
Coming to terms
With things you don't like
Is part of living a grown up life.
Circa 1994 Oct 2015
The fact that the sound of his voice now makes my insides hurt.
I have to wean my enthusiasm. Taper my excitement - in order to better accommodate for disappointment.
And I’m fearful of this feeling I get.
Like I need to brace myself for something that’ll be painful.
Should I trust my feminine instincts?
Or am I just a self fulfilling prophecy.

Will I push too hard instead of pulling him closer for comfort.
But I could try numbing again for a bit, until he can breathe again.
Because I’m sure it’s my fault. Maybe I’m being paranoid -
and I suffocate when I get paranoid. It’s a reflex.
I should have savored the moments of dissociation more.
I could use a break from this body.

actlikeeverythingisokayandeventuallyitwillbe. dontbecrazy. dontactinspite. dontmatchmatchhurtforhurt. thingswontseemssobadafteragoodmealandanightofsleep. peacepromise.
Circa 1994 Oct 2015
*** with you felt like it was my first time.
it was nice, to feel virginal again.
to be pure.
innocent.
this clean, untouched thing.

arguing with you felt disheartening.
made me scared.
amplified what little doubt I had.
and then there was that one time,
the first time,
and hopefully the last
when you felt like my dad.
(you complained from up on your tower,
about how my complaints were unjustified.
only later to complain about some other matter,
but I was too inside my brain.)
and I had to tell myself there was a reason,
God had a purpose for the pain he was letting me feel -
to thicken my skin
so that nothing and no one could hurt me ever again,
because I wouldn't let them.
wouldn't give them the opportunity.
daddy always made me cry.
but daddy cries too.
Oct 2015 · 546
Important #s
Circa 1994 Oct 2015
2 years.
August 4th.
9 hour plane rides.
5 hour time difference.
4,000 miles away.
1 year and 3 days apart.
6 month countdown.
2 months of bliss.
Once a year.
5:00 am.

You're my 1.
Our story in numbers.
Circa 1994 Oct 2015
What you are to me is far too cliche to say in this medium. So I won't say what you are. I'll say what you aren't.

You aren't my father,
You don't call me the things I deserve to be called when I'm acting like the things I deserve to be called.
You aren't arrogant.
You don't hold my past misdeeds against me.
You haven't left.
You aren't aware of your worth.
You are not a coward.
You can't stay mad at me.
You aren't ordinary.

Sometimes it's the bits we don't say. The unspoken words in between the ones we say with our voice. Sometimes it's oir actions that give us a voice.
Circa 1994 Oct 2015
A boy that's good for your body
And better for your head
That's who I dreampt of
As I squirmed in my bed.

Tingling limbs
All fire and heat.
Making it hard to stay in my seat.

A boy with a soft body for cuddling
And a strong will for a healthy mind.
But above all, please let him be kind.
All the boxes have been ticked
So forever with you I shall surely stick.
Circa 1994 Oct 2015
sometimes you ruin me.
you make me feel second rate, but you say i'm priority.
I want to nurture you back to health. I want to make a difference in the way you feel.
maybe that's selfish,
...yeah probably.
but sometimes sadness is selfish too.
We're victims to ourselves.
sometimes I don't want to feel better,
sometimes I need to feel blue -
and maybe so do you.
I will try to understand
even though there are things I never will.
like why it takes me feeling worse for you to feel better.
or why spicy pastrami can cheer you up more than I can.
or how oblivious we can be to the pain we subject each other to.
any effort I make is futile.
you undermind my attempts.
shame on me,
I don't learn
not to fix
broken things.
Maybe this poem will make it to the trending page; will you acknowledge me then?
Oct 2015 · 344
a poem about indecision
Circa 1994 Oct 2015
I am completely sober.
...I'm not sure if that's a good or a bad thing.
I want to stay in,
and take off all my clothes.
I want to go out,
and get all dolled up.
I want to be seen
...by no one.
I want to know...
what I want.
Sep 2015 · 541
lil bub and sweet baboo
Circa 1994 Sep 2015
tell me something,
like how it feels when we finally kiss after a huge fight.
how the cold wind rushes past cheeks flushed red from  the warmth of liquor.
we said so many things when we were upset.
I barely remember why.
I do remember the smooth brush of your stubble
as you'd nuzzle
against me.
And making love in the kitchen,
the smell of homemade tomato sauce still lingering.
Pounds upon pounds in my pockets after a night out on the town.
drinking cider,
drinking red stripe,
drinking wine til I cry.

All those things we said
when we stayed in bed.
Exchange a glance.
have a tumble til our bellies rumble.

This is a nonfictional romance.
for the one I call bub, captain, and boo
Sep 2015 · 466
Entertainers inquire within
Circa 1994 Sep 2015
My stomach became painful when you said those things.
Did you even stop to consider?
"Are you not entertained!?"
You didn't even realized the translation of your words.
"You're not enough."
Ok. Ok.
But I missed you so.
******* twatish is what it is.
Spoiled.
Thoughtless.
"Be more flashy
Be more loud
Keep my attention if you want to keep me."
You've ruined it,
My welcome back party has been crashed.
Thanks a bundle dear friend.
Sep 2015 · 537
Sprung
Circa 1994 Sep 2015
My darling boy
Of green-eyed innocence.
Brown hair bias,
With beige finger tips
warm as the wet flesh of your inner cheek.

You color me purple,
Like your favorite color spree.
Aug 2015 · 357
just a memory
Circa 1994 Aug 2015
that was the night we went downtown and I snuck to the bathroom
to take off my underwear,
only to come back and shove the small knot of fabric deep into the pocket of your jeans.
the pink mesh ones with the lace trim.
I liked the way you looked at me.
in a way that conveyed your understanding.
that we shared this little secret among the throngs of people that surrounded us.
through the infinite noise and slush of cider filled cups,
the jostling bodies, the whistle of the wind along the seafront.
amidst all this,
still this one
silent
and simple exchange was shared.

how delicious are memories such as this
when recalled on nights like these.
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