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- Aug 2016
I don't know if anybody told you
that you look like young Winona Ryder,
or that the skin around your eyelids
looks so perfect when you smile, but

You're a devil

And you move just like you like

And no one can tell you anything
When you bite your lip that nice
51?
- Aug 2016
At least I'm here,
At least I'm writing,
And feeling full.

At least this sustenance,
This painful brew,
Nourishes me.

At least I boil and then drink the thorns
And feel no sting
Of sadness in my throat

Anymore
Number 50!
- Aug 2016
Talk to me more about miscommunications.

Tell me more about
These jumbled lips,
Misshapen teeth,
Boxed-off smiles you're carting around.

Convince me one more time that you're so perfect,
Please.

Cut my wings and ask me to take flight,
Again, I dare you.

I was strong
And in need of redemption
I was lost
And deserved a response -

Craft another elegant lie about how you loved me
And I'll use it as fuel for these flames.
Number 49
- Jul 2016
Feel less dread when you think about the complex nights you've had,
stupors you've fallen into,
lovers you've kissed.

Those things are okay,
and everybody does them.

Eat your breakfast on the fire escape, and watch the birds.

Read a little every morning, too
and remember that "morning"
means "before twelve pm."

Breathe a little, darling,
and not just into the mouth
of a stranger.
Number 48.
- Jul 2016
I am migrating between two worlds,

and learning to do it swiftly
Number 47.
A pretty joyful little number for today :)
- Jul 2016
Hello, I hope you're doing well in the midst of this chaos.

I'm aware that I left a long time ago, but
I wanted to write to you and see if I could recall your face.

I hope that you've transitioned smoothly,
found yourself in that whirlwind of a body at last,
and quieted.

I hope that you're still writing,
that you've tamed the seas
the way you often dreamed of doing.

I hope that you've found dry, calm earth
and settled down
in Tuscon
to grow old and paint
like the Georgia O'Keefe you always said you were.

Please paint a beautiful ******, just for me.

I hope that you'll recall my name now and again,
and think to smile, and, I hope

You'll forgive that all of my sentences have begun with "I."

See, I don't know how else to tell you
that I wish I could get to know you again, and that
your eyes held answers I could never have imagined,
nor knew how to uncover.

I don't know how to write you, because
this isn't a love letter
no, it couldn't be a love letter, but
something deep in here wants it to be?

I wish you'd know that I'm sorry for leaving,
and all the pain I'd caused, I wish you'd know also that
none other has compared to you

(I know it's a small consolation, but bear it with you in the night when you're feeling lonely, I suppose)

I hope you've found games you love to venture into and people who make you smile, and that you've seized all your opportunities for adventure with both hands.

I hope you're no longer hiding your poetry, and that the world will soon bear witness to your words and declarations, and, I hope

that, someday, you'll remember
to stop forgetting me.
Number 46
SPOKEN WORD
A letter to another, but a letter to myself?
  Jul 2016 -
Angel
You are the dark circles under my eyes because I have spent too many restless nights thinking about you.
You are the cigarette I put between my lips because I miss having yours pressed against mine.
You are the body's of strangers who fill my sheets because I am trying to replace the warmth you once gave me.
You are my sad thoughts because I couldn't make you stay.
You are the doubts, confusion, anxiety I have at the most inconvenient times.
You are the bright city lights that follow me endlessly.
You are the alcohol that runs through my veins because it is the only thing that keeps me going anymore.
You are the ghost that will forever remind me that what we had was not love but lust.
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