Fairy Tales Slighly Off

Aug 31

b for short

When I was in seventh grade,
I learned the basics of sewing.
The basics of how to stitch
things together in a way
that gave them a larger purpose.
I found ways to do that
with the small things
that found meaning with me
in the years that followed—
collecting them,
stitching them together,
to become part of my
larger purpose.

Books that left marks on the mind,
lyrics that realigned crooked feelings,
the magic in every corner of a flea market,
unconventional locations to kiss
a boyfriend.

Then, lightning struck that
sewing machine, while
I was mid stitch.
Smoke rose
from my unsuspecting skin.
With it, came a letter in a bottle.
And then another—
bright words and kind thoughts
that traveled up and out
from a heart as beautifully tired
as mine.
Paragraphs lined with
different kinds of love that
filled in all of the space
between my hundred stitched pieces.
Lightning struck again,
and again and again.
My smoking skin, humming electric—
my hands couldn’t type quickly enough
everything that I wanted to share.

I wrote it all.
I let it strike.
I loved its heat, its deliberate shock—
how it captivated from any distance,
and fascinated with its touch.

Lightning, though,
will always
find an exit.

It will always find
a way out and
into the ground.

Aug 29

b for short

bwi direct to xna

I used to think I kept you like a secret.

Is it a secret if no one knows it’s being kept?
Maybe I’ll never know, but
if I did have the chops to say it out loud,
I’d tell them that
I have dreams about that plane ride.
I’d take the 6AM flight just so
the colors of the sunrise would
chase me for a thousand miles.

I’d sip my hot coffee
with too much cream at
my window seat and
make small talk with
the older woman seated beside me.
She has a kind face and
takes this flight often to visit her
son and his family.
(He relocated for work,
but couldn’t pass up the salary.)
She’d ask if I’m coming or going.
“I’m not sure yet,” I’d reply, and
offer to buy her a drink,
as I revel in and relive
every crumb of our story with her.
It’s a good one, I think.
(And she thinks so too.)
She places her hand on mine, and,
with the sincerest of smiles,
wishes me well on my adventure.

She’s always there, and I like her.

I dream that baggage claim is
a ghost town, but I
recognize your eyes beyond the carousel
before I recognize my own blue suitcase.
Sometimes you have flowers in your hand,
but you always have a hug.

There’s excitement and understanding in it—
a relief that teeters on tears
and lips that waited for so long
to whisper, “Finally.”
And I feel so safe and found.
I’m at home
in a place I’ve never been before—
in arms that have never held me.

My blue suitcase— still circling.

I laugh, and I can’t wait to tell you
that I dream of you in color.
I quickly give you instructions
on how to find me again
in case we get lost.
I tell you dream flights are cheaper
if you’re in bed before 9PM.
I don’t know if you hear me,
but before I can ask,
I’m awake.

I’m alone.

You’re my secret again.
The secret I’ve never told.
BWI direct to XNA.

#flights #dreams #feelings #long #distance

Jun 2022

S Smoothie

Pain is a Memory

In the hollow inside my soul

Rattling around a cage

scraping yet more and more flesh

I dont go down those steps anymore

But I can feel you scratching at the door

Dragging every sweet moment into the abyss of bitter

And the salt of my tears crystallised long ago

With nothing but dust to offer

The ocean of tears still drown me

And resurrection feels neither glorious or healing

Such long tendrilled fingers

Frightened to let go

I might have forgotten you

But you won't let me

Until you take every part of me for yourself

But I still walk forwards

And every day I will get further

And you will be but a pin *****

In my new tomorrow

And despair will forget my name

Jun 2021

S Smoothie

Higher Love

I fell from the stars into your depths
so new and exciting
to the constant happy I was living in.
Swimming In your consciousness
Trying to figure you out
To pull you out of your slumber

Misery it seems glows like a flame
And here I am glowing with the same

And now I long for the stars from which I fell
If only I could take you with me to see...
But you won't look you won't see for me.

You clutch me tightly and push me down
so I won't fly away
But every day I dont.
every day I stay.
You think that you can hold me
but nothing outside of me can make me stay
I let you
Even though you feel this way.

We created something together
A choice of willing victims
Now it tethers us
to the end and beginning of time.
You were always too small in your mind
to see me truly,
and I didn't really mind,
Until I saw the truth I knew
That you were never really mine
And I never truly yours

We spend time hovering in eachother's atmosphere
Hoping to find some vibrational harmony
Though never really trying together for our own

I guess I loved you too much,
on too many levels
Too deeply, too high
That dissapointment was the spectre
hunting me in the darkness of the spiritual night.

What is there of redemption in my eyes,
if there is none reflected back?
The lonely are the brave,
The brave are the happy
Those in communion
must lose so much self to gain

But I am not of you
so I must refrain
To lose my self,
we lose the stars
and that possibility must remain.

I will not console you now
You must feel this pain
You must reconcile this shame
You must resolve this regret
So that we can be one again
You from the earth
Me from the stars
The ether in-between
Always will be ours
And in the resolution of every final hour
You know where to find me from way down there

If you dare x

#higherlove

Apr 2020

b for short

zero likes

Guided by something heavier
than a final notice or a dollar sign.
It's a power, not for profit,
that's respected silently, without a like button.
It tangles my hair in the stars
as I dream of places that feel like home,
but never visited.
It whispers the names of people
that I know I've loved in another life.
The world is on fire, but
I close my eyes and hear its music.
It hums. I follow.
The world is on fire, but
I dance in its glow.

#like #button #fire #spirit #music #stars #past #life

Apr 2020

b for short

cats and roses

Assume the employee smiles as you
wait in line for a sanitized shopping cart.
Assume she has slight imperfections
in her front teeth as you do.
Tiny chips from hard candy mishaps
back in the early 2000s
that you choose to notice while
you examine your mouth in the mirror.
Assume that they're eyes are telling the truth--
they didn't wake up with a fever this morning,
and neither did the lady or her four kids behind you.
Assume by their relaxed body language
that we're all still safe from something we can't see.
Assume that since your own smile is naked,
somehow, you'll get out of this public place untouched.
It feels like you do. You hope, anyway.
Assume that the governor knows what's best when he says
"It is suggested that all citizens wear facemasks,
regardless if they're showing symptoms."
You put the peanut butter in the cupboard
and the paper plates on the counter.
You wash your hands for twenty seconds,
singing "Happy Birthday" twice, just like they said.
You touch your face because you assume you're clean.
Assuming your own risk, you pick up your phone and
in a rigid, robotic fashion, your search begins.
Assume you will see "out of stock" and "due to high demand,"
and assume that you will come up empty-handed, again.
You find her though,
a young girl who has made hundreds face masks to sell
on her online shop.
She asks you to select your pattern,
and as I scan my choices,
I imagine what would accompany my feverish face the best.
"Cats," I say to her through a series of clicks.
"Cats, and I think, I'll take the one with roses too."

#covid19 #coronavirus #facemask #national #poetry #month #cats #roses

Jul 2019

b for short

meeting someone who feels like home

Young, fresh, unsuspecting—
I was her once.
Instead, now I am the subject
of her pining curiosity.
“When will you get married?”
I empathize and recognize
that my 30 to her 16 seems to be
soft, ripened fruit
on the verge of a good, wasteful spoil.
The smile that cracks on my lips
begs to grow into laughter,
and I resist.
I was her once.
I still catch flecks of her
in the corners of my eyes whenever
I see love take one of its many shapes.
My answer.
“Single admission still gets you
into the same movie, kid.”
Looking in the rear view mirror,
I catch that fleck and keep quiet.

Your move, universe.

Feb 2019

S Smoothie

Slippage and time

Another minute wasted, but savored
lets never leave from this place
it seems an eternity we Labored
To be here in this same space
together after chasing stars and comet tails
running rings around Saturns moons
under and through where the dark holes hail
over and under shifting desert dunes
Looking for me, looking for you
another minute wasted but savored
Now we dance along ultra violet tunes
but us, dastardly luck never favored
to the beat of our hearts croon
Once again We labored
looking for me, looking for you
the fabric of the universe once again tears
Nothing left but to rue
it seems it never cares
for me or for you
but hold tight love make this minute last
there’s nothing we can do
time seeps by so fast
loving me, loving you
Agape, we’ll find eachother again
it’s what we were designed to do
I ache another minute through
kiss met love hold on
I promise I’ll find you
promise you’ll find me
lets take this one last breath
together in the same air
and as you’re torn away from me
know eventually I’ll be there
and now as you fade into another oblivion
I’m grateful for those minutes
wasted yet deeply savored
to sustain us
till we meet again.