Delaney Zuver: Poems

751 · Nov 2014

WANTED

Delaney Zuver Nov 2014

WANTED

I am searching for someone.
He's tall and handsome
With erratic dark hair that dances on his head when he laughs
And large, white teeth that aren't too big for his mouth.
He likes to sing old songs under his breath when he has to make hard decisions and when he hugs me he puts his scratchy chin in the curvature of my neck and it fits like it was made for him.
I would have brought along a picture but he hates having his picture taken and all the good ones are at his house anyways.
I love him.
He left because he said he needed to find something, though I can't remember what.
It's been one week since and he still isn't back.
He was humming a Beach Boy's song as he walked out the door into the cold November air last Tuesday.
Let me know if you see him.
Thank you for your time.

536 · Nov 2014

your name

Delaney Zuver Nov 2014

your name

The way the letters of your name fall upon the page seems so beautiful to me. Their sprawling swooping quality drives me mad and I want to see if my name sounds the way yours looks when you whisper it in my ear at 3 a.m. on a Thursday night when the whole world stops to listen to our synchronized breath.

490 · Feb 2014

Lost and Found

Delaney Zuver Feb 2014

Lost and Found

The Worn Jacket, the Single Glove, the Old Hat.

{Things found in the box by the door.}

Dancing Eyes, Cool Tears, Wide Grins

{Things found in kindness}

Cold Fears, Small Minds, Stone Hearts

{Things found in evil}

Dusty Finished Records, Quick Caresses, A Small Flame

{Things found between lovers}

Quick Banter, Deep Breaths, A Warm Embrace

{Things found in friendship}

Blankness, Slamming, Loose Keys

{Things found in giving up}

Conversations, Accidental Meetings, Flickering Smiles

{Things found in off-chances}

Blank Paper, Pounding Feet, Quiet Music

{Things found within yourself}

-d.z.

484 · Feb 2014

a love song

Delaney Zuver Feb 2014

a love song

You were a the fallen bird
Tweeting from beneath
The solid oak

You were the stray cat
That followed me home
On that rainy day in April

And you were the wave
That pulled me under
The icy, murky water

So I took you in
I was the one who fixed
your broken wing

I was the one
That stifled
Your incessant hunger

And I sank
Into you
Into your world

And now that I have fixed you
You fly away from me
Singing one final, clear song

Your stomach
no longer rumbles
for anything I can provide

And you have washed me up
Onto the shore
Leaving me out to dry

You do come occasionally
singing my name
carefully wrapping
your bottlebrush tail
around my leg
and teasingly lapping
at my toes

I am slightly saddened
Because I am suddenly aware
That you don’t need me anymore

Yes, I am glad you’re well
But don’t forget
Who made you so -DZ

475 · Feb 2014

Not Your Own

Delaney Zuver Feb 2014

Not Your Own

You sit in the dark house
with the ominous ceiling
with the chipping paint
and the rusty swing in the back.

You feel at home
letting the walls close in around you
comforting you in that sick, twisted way
it always does.

Though, this is not your house.
It is a ‘for sale’ sign you found
in the eye of a stranger
and it’s the same sign you found
in your closest companions shaking voice
in your mothers silent tears.

You do not realize that this is
their doing
You believe you have built the twisted shelter
on your own
With your own heavy hammer
Adding weight with each swing

You close
your dusty, dark curtains
to the stretching fingers
of a warm sun
that you deserve.

And you sit
Feeling unspeakably alone
in a house
that is not your own.

-DZ

Be sure you never confuse other peoples sadness and grief for your own.

468 · Feb 2014

sunshine head

Delaney Zuver Feb 2014

sunshine head

sometimes when I hear your name,
I think of our favorite record,
fizzling out slowly as we stare at each other
over now-cold tea and stale conversation

though sometimes I think of warm sunlight
and the way your curly caramel-colored hair captured it perfectly
I think of running my small hands through your sunshine hair
I remember the way it felt to me

then again, when I hear your name
sometimes I feel small raindrops hit my skin
on the rainy afternoon in the summer
when you told me I couldn't ever leave you

mostly though, I remember looking at you
watching you laugh at a terrible movie
deeming it the best film in existence
and realizing that I didn't love you anymore

I remember everything about you
even though I knew nothing about you

465 · Feb 2014

Summer Colors

Delaney Zuver Feb 2014

Summer Colors

Yellow: The color of your thick, wonderful voice dripping into my ear when you spoke to me as I laid in your lap on that Wednesday evening.

Blue: The color of your old bike that you would ride past my house on, sailing straight through the neighbors sprinklers when they splashed onto the street.

Red: The color of that Sno-Cone you spilled on my lap. You stroked my leg with your napkin. My soul felt on fire.

Pink: The color of your smooth shoulders after that day at the beach. I still hear the sea at times.

Purple: The color of the sky on nights where the only sounds were the brushings of the tall grass and the whisperings of our two voices.

White: The color of the blanket we used to use when we had picnics on Sunday’s. Those stains won’t seem to come out of that thing.

Orange: The color of the warm bonfire that would spatter across your face when we toasted marshmallows as the putrid smoke crept into our lungs slowly, and with a scary silence.

Green: The color of the shirt you wore to that concert. I had never heard of the band, but you had said you liked them. I bought our tickets.

Silver: The color of your small car. I counted the seconds it took for you to pull out of my driveway when you left for the last time. 5 seconds.

379 · Feb 2014

The Words

Delaney Zuver Feb 2014

The Words

Tears sit, poised on my lashes and threatening me to pounce as the graceful, effortless words tumble softly from your mouth and take flight. You breathe those glorious words.
Inhale.
Exhale.
I hear them, and they swirls around my head for the rest of the day, ruffling my hair, tugging on my shoelaces. Your beautiful words, new and fresh and tinted a soft pink.
They cause my breath to become like the ocean waves, shaky and shallow.

Then, I push my words from my mouth. And they fall, yes they fall, but not like yours. My words are heavy and worn and gray and clumsy and hit the ground with a tremendous thud. And you attempt to coax my words up and away into the breeze with yours. You say it will come. You say it is something learned.
But I cannot wait to learn. I cannot wait for it to come.
Because in my head your words are always spinning, mixed in with the roar of my blood rushing through my veins and the ‘Shhhh’ of my deep breaths.

I cannot take it.

I cannot take it.

I cannot breathe anymore.

"It will come."

378 · Feb 2014

eight dollars and twenty eight cents

Delaney Zuver Feb 2014

eight dollars and twenty eight cents

I fell in love with the way you tied the shoelaces

On you old and worn sneakers.

And I fell in love with the way your eyes would glow

Like soft candle light

When you talked of your idle passions

The way you allowed your hair to have a mind of it’s very own made my pulse quicken.

The way you said my name made my breath pull itself back into my throat.

You are  just a boy.

Yet you were so much more.
.

You were a beacon for me

Showing me that not everyone was the same.

You beckoned me forward.

I pressed my small, wet palm into your large, dry one

And we danced.

But

You are a  collection of walking broken promises.

You are the coffin I will bury myself in eventually.

The delicate ocean that will one day swallow me whole.

You make me write ugly poetry
You make me love every minute of it.
Every syllable.
Every word.

You were the box of treasure

That I put in the hole under the apple tree when I was 6.

You were  the rain

That washed all that treasure away from me

Leaving me with only the damp grass

A distinct smell in the air.

I hate that I think you’re better than what you seem.

I hate that you think you’re better than what you are.

The only thing tying us together

Was our thirst for divergence.

I found it in you.

You found it in someone else.

You were a quick answer

You were a vivid daydream

You were a childs blanket

You broke a heart

You never knew you held

In your large
dry
hand

really not my favorite, but i had to write it. having your heart broken isn't an everyday thing i guess. this is dedicated to you. you've taught me so much. thank you.

374 · Nov 2014

mon amour mauvis tacle

Delaney Zuver Nov 2014

mon amour mauvis tacle

you're my ideal.
you're the dream I dream to put myself to sleep each night.
I don't think that I truly want you, because you are gone now
and our lives are very different.
but if time would have skipped to a slightly different beat,
maybe I would be the one lying on your lap and holding your face while the night outside swallowed us whole.

326 · Feb 2014

Untitled

Delaney Zuver Feb 2014

Untitled

The light in your eyes is fading fast,
like the dramatic smoke
from a flame no longer
drifting up towards the ceiling.

I see it crashing down around you now.

You appear to approach the world with a dazzling smile
and with a caring touch.
Your eyes water as graceful words fall from your mouth
And your voice floats up and down
as the wind takes it by the hand and asks it to dance
a sad, slow waltz.

And yet you seem to carry on.
Head held high.
Feet seemingly firm on the shifting earth beneath you.

But you are not fooling me.

I see the cracks in your heavy armor.
The fissures where your shield has been broken
and super-glued back together quickly in shame and agony
time after time.

And it is sad, what you've become
You don’t see that many strive to live like you.
Think like you do
Be like you
Even you are striving to be something
that you already are.

285 · Feb 2014

UNTITLED DOCUMENT

Delaney Zuver Feb 2014

UNTITLED DOCUMENT

I like the way you dress differently than everyone else in this place.
It draws my eye in.
And I like the way you play the guitar, and sing old rock songs spontaneously in that deep voice.
I could hear you if you whispered from the bottom of the ocean
I wish you would stretch out every syllable when you said my name.
Because I never want it to end.
When you look near me, my lungs fill with air and my heart expands in an instant.
I know you can see me blush, but you never say anything of it.

You’d think, after all of these things, I would love you.
That I would want to kiss you endlessly.

But the truth is, I do not.
You are no different from anyone else in this room.
We do not fit together, our lives separated by a deep river of false expectations and fleeting facades.
We are not similar, and do not belong with one another.

But that does not mean
That I will stop pining for what I think you are
And what I believe you represent.
I never will.
I always will.

Dedicated to you, my sweet disappointment.

— The End —