Frankie T: Favorites

Jul 2013 Frankie T

Castro

Jul 2013 Frankie T

Amber Grey

Castro

I was sitting with you.
Edging the parking structure,
you told me that when you were young
you would lose your shoes and run away
here.

You danced atop the concrete slab,
and I wondered if I could jump
to the next building, if I tried.

I remember telling you about scents that night.
How everybody had one.
How they usually smelled like their families.
How your house always smelled sweet.

I remember saying that when I went into your house
for the very first time,
I could taste the cinnamon in the air,
as if your mother made cakes
for birthdays and Christmas
and coming homes and going aways.

I remember asking you what my scent was.
You said that I didn't smell like anything, really

and I thought that maybe you hadn't understood,
but now I figure you did.
You were probably trying to say,
in your cryptic way, quoting your own poetry,
that I didn't have a family to smell like.

I just wonder when, exactly
for me at least,
you started smelling like salvation.

Jul 2013 Frankie T

Hello my name is Atlas

Jul 2013 Frankie T

Liz McLaughlin

Hello my name is Atlas

Don’t stand so close to me
God knows I hate you for it
standing miles high and reaching down
arms stretched out in the 2am
screaming pull yourself up god ******

but my flailing hand passes through yours
like some sort of hologram
leave a message after the beep—you're not there
my nails are filled with dirt from the grave I’m digging

because hello my name is Atlas
and I got this world on my shoulders
it weighs four years
and they call it high school
they colored me Goliath
—some intellectual behemoth
and potential equals mgh, variable being height
but David felled me in an empty forest
and I didn’t make a sound

they rushed me toward a hospital
morphine (or was it lexapro?)
running through leaking veins
sir, her GPA is flat lining
please just let her go

but I keep thinking of that song
Pale Green Things
and--what happened to my baby?!--
my grandmother getting the call

so I’ll let my spine tear through my rice paper back
as I curl up to hold it in
and hope to God
that some other kid
will bring in his daddy’s paranoia
(hidden in a cardboard box beneath the bed)
to show and tell

and he’d let me take a little lead home
please not in the head
I never liked a mess

Jul 2013 Frankie T

Six

Jul 2013 Frankie T

Lily Gabrielle

Six

Your outline defined by moonshine turns the days to stepping stones.

2. I remember the moment I fell for your fingertips and how they smooth my body like a map.

3. In the garden we planted, my arms rooted the ground pulling me into soil.

4. Every time your eye lids flutter I twist into your sockets and tear what makes you fragile.

5. If you sailed around the world I would place a limb in every iceberg to melt and permeate bubbles of the sea.

6. You speak in flowers, but all petals wilt if left in the sun.

Jul 2013 Frankie T

Home

Jul 2013 Frankie T

Edgar E Tobias

Home

I arrived with a smile running down - trying to escape my pale face
Eyes were heavy and excited, how did I manage to stay away
For so long, I had forgotten how
What the warmth seemed to scream and shout,
"It's alright; you're ok!
You're finally safe and sound - you're Home, now!"

I unpacked, and relaxed, ironed out wrinkles from the previous year
Each pressed in line, showed how much time, made it so obviously clear
That no matter what I expressed with my tongue
It's clear, it's here - this Home - I belong
"It's alright; you'll be ok.
Just don't over stay your Welcome."

It wasn't long at all, before not a single thought, wasn't of how I over-stayed
But now I live alone, this house is not a Home, I only have myself to blame
Come Christmas time, the needles of the pine, will be the only presents under the tree
Since my return, I relearned, released the monster within me
"It's alright, you're fine...
Just as long as you never leave."

Boy, is it good to be Home.

Jul 2013 Frankie T

Learning the Waltz

Jul 2013 Frankie T

Maureen Richardson

Learning the Waltz

Should it matter how you feel?
Because this is my world.
In my head, nothing is that big of a deal.
Tears may run down your cheeks,
but blood runs through my veins.
"It may be warm, but your heart is cold," you say,
"Everything you do is bleak."
Left turn, right turn, whisk.
Should it matter what you've said?
Because all I know are my own words.
I shut out all else, after "It's over, we're dead."
Rain may fall where you stand, but lightening struck me.
Everything is fried inside my head.
Left turn, right turn, whisk.
Should it matter what you've done?
Holding your secrets after you've walked
pulled the trigger on the gun.
Forced to step when you step, learning the waltz.
Left turn, right turn, whisk.
It all feels so false.
Like the master puppeteer,
my words in and out of every ear.
Should it matter that you've apologized?
Those words you said, I don't trust.
I see through your eyes.
Left turn, right turn, whisk.
My hand finally released from your palm,
stomach freed, heart suddenly calm,
I walk straight from now on.
My spin is now my call.
Left turn, right turn, whisk.
We were there, now we're here, and that is all.

Jul 2013 Frankie T

Empty

Jul 2013 Frankie T

Chelsea Nicole Gray

Empty

Pretty bare rib cage
Rabid butterflies pick
At flesh in rage.

My fire is out
The steamy shower burns
My hands they bleed
And blister red.

Stoic smile
Bloodshot eyes
Words slip past my lips as lies.

But I believe...
Oh yes the stories.
Tainted doves fly free, impurities.
You know it's a problem when all you have left is these tainted doves.