Deana Luna

Deana Luna Apr 2014

wakes me up grumpy slow kisses
tucks me in tender
forehead kisses tender
you know what i don’t even care
say anything you want
spin fairytales talk to me about dinosaurs and princesses
complain cry pull

bratty ***** you know exactly how to handle me look at that smirk i want to slap it off your face

running through my mind when i close my eyes your scent lingers on my fingers hands pulling softly harder

Hold Me Tight. i need you. Hold Me Tight.

Deana Luna Apr 2014

words yelled into my mouth

loves me but it hurts
******* **** ****** sits on my couch//on my feet—
toes gently tucked under his jeaned thigh.s.—
tells me he loves me.

love is not a mistake but mistakes are made up of love.
tiny hearted patchworks attempting *******//
makes a home out of my arms.
tears falling down me him my his face.s.
stretches me open like bubble gum /little princess/brat/toy.
fantasies in our heads. little secrets. sweet taste from his lips.

opens up my mouth. stretches it wide. pushes his fingers through. as if the inside of my gums held the secrets he has been trying to reach in my head. pushes them far back. almost gag. mine mine be mine be mine mine mine be mine. i hear it. he keeps quiet but i hear it. silent pleas.

wild. sweet daddy darling. wild. i am wild. i belong to no one.
**** me/take me/own me for a little while. fulfill those needs. sate yourself and me.
i am no product to be placed on a shelf.

whispers it in my ear in between faces staring.
hearing it makes it more real. analysis. how many fingers was that? how did your tongue do that? can you do it again? can i try?

why.?. do you love me. why.?.

this will be better for you i will not call text contact you
no
why are you crying
no i don’t want this stay
you don’t love me just the idea
no
of me
no stay please i need you you make me happier than i have been in so long
this is *******
i know
this is *******
i know

Deana Luna Mar 2014

kiss and feel full

Take care of them.
Keep them safe from harm.
From me. Not easy. Handful.
You’re a lot.
I know.

Kiss and think of when we kissed. Kiss and feel full. Feel sated. Do not ask for more. Do not ask for seconds. Let a kiss be just that: a sweet offering tasted in the night.
Hold my shakes and think of when you held my shakes.

******* angers me. Over confidant. I know. I know. Everything. All about me my lips eyes mouth where they belong where he places them.

****** and chucker. Check.
Stubborn little girl with apparently more power than she thought. Tired of dragging a runaway bag on her shoulders.

Settle down, my dear. And we will figure this out in time.

Deana Luna Mar 2014

rooted in truths

and when you were three years old. how did he ask you. where did you go. how many times did you go there. hearts above my head. wants to know me i want to know you. glad he put me on his car radio. is that all you think of. smeared across the windshield. starry eyed. constellations forming at the tip of your tongue. double cap my stars.

start speaking to me in astrology.

— my sweet baby. cowardly little girl —
little mouthed lovenotes

mysteries hidden beneath layers of red puffy cheeks huffy breath little smirk swollen eyes. holds me in his arms like a fragile plant. waters me with stories from his past. dreams of the future.

kiss the walls of my house. reach the rooted truths.

Deana Luna Feb 2014

this poem is about my depression and a boy

forgetful me.
i had forgotten.
forgotten that there was something in his lips. the longer i kissed him, the stronger the desire became. to find it.
find that secret he was hiding.
find the source of his power.
his confidence.
his tears.
so i could rip them out. rip out the *******.
anything that causes him pain.

i had forgotten the stars lining the outside of his lips.
forgot how each time i kissed him, they would rub off and seep into my spongey skin.
forgot how the sky would dim just to hear him speak.
the stars would rise just to light a stage for him.

a platform for him to kiss poems in my ear.

forgetful me.
i had forgotten the dirt under his nails left charcoal marks on my chest.
marks for everyone to see.
***** bodies that lit me up.
brighter than blonde.
forgotten about that scar. and this one.
and the lovely things he whispered between heavy breaths.
hands on either side of my hips.//either side of my *******.
yelling at me with his tears to let go of the apple cores and checkered floors.

the same struggle.

i had forgotten about his laugh. and the way he said my name.
the silliness of 4 am on new year’s eve.
or i guess new year’s day.

forgetful me. who suddenly remembered.

Deana Luna Feb 2014

make me into art

wreck me (can you do it)
you have full permission to destroy me completely. (fight against me. fight me. ******* FIGHT.>/..,’]]\
die-hard, sweet tongued, soft eyed, lover boy.—> wreck me.

i know you want to.

wreck the soft peachiness of my cheeks
down to my painted pink toenails.
paint my body red with destruction
purple with bruises
pink with smacks and slaps
lines across my neck
open crime scene — worst i’ve ever seen — poor girl
never had a chance, did she

-got/get angry-
are you angry with me? are you livid?
make me feel it, darling.
powerful structures of pain
pleasurable absence
structureless abuse
heaving

wreck me.
rip out my tattoo heart/make me into art.

Deana Luna Feb 2014

unsweetened 2%

do you still like me- he asks.
soft tones and brittle bones. torn.
eyes roll. my eyes. away or repeating.
bits and pieces. bits and pieces of my heart have been scattered here.
feel them thudding down the hall.
under your sheets.
pressed up against your ears.

a creation of fantasies all splayed out on his floor.
***** me this way and that.
yeah? yeah? take it. take my ****.
directions from- unsweetened 2%

do you still like me.
a calming disposition. arms stretched like an alley cat. ready to run at the first sign of danger.
eager enough to go deeper, but still scarred from previous battles.

with all that i have left- smoothes away scars. until tears start pouring down hot cheeks.