and here i am again
at the intersection
of pedestrian language
& old wives tales
swallowing gum
like 7 year memories
opening umbrellas inside
cause i can't seem get away
from all of this rain
i ******* with my left hand
cause i was told
back in highschool that
"it feels like someone else is doing it"
it gets me wondering
about the difference between
losing you and finding out
that some one else found you
or my sleep
or lack thereof
its starting to tear me apart
i keep having this dream
where you are in
an unfamiliar body of water
trying to wash my poetry
off of your hands
or the one where
something happens in my chest
every time you sit
on someone else's bed
i'm tired of feeling like something you've misplaced
but don't have the heart
to look for anymore
tired of you saying my name
like you're trying to bury it
i'm tired of wondering
if you can tell the difference
between the absence
of my voice & silence
the other day
i almost started sobbing
at work when a woman
asked me about
our equipment
i was explaining how
things come apart
and almost mentioned your name
it made me think
of how you used to say
things like "what would you do
if i showed up on your doorstep
one day?" now, i haunt
the windows in my house
i don't leave for weeks at a time
i sit on the porch like the dog
you didn't shoot behind the shed
the one that refuses to die
until you come home again
i told somebody once, that
you didn't even know
what my voicemail sounded like
i wonder if they thought
it was because you
are so important that i never
let it ring that many times
before picking up
or if you dont know
what it sounds like
because you've never called
you can't be the ****** weapon
and the search party
i'm tired of all the seats
to the ferris wheel in my chest
being empty
tired of your voice
being the one i look for
in abandoned places
that one sound i beg
to bounce back
down vacant hallways
i just seem to stand there
in all of that quiet
like someone looking for a mistake
on an eviction notice
so i guess the hardest part
isn't letting go
it's forgetting
you ever had a grip
in the first place
and since you've been gone
i wonder if when
you pushed yourself away from me
you used your left hand
so it felt like someone else did it

you painted a starry sky
on your nails
and the reflection in your eyes
says everything you hide

not sure what to do
I wish I could be with you

be well
sometimes listening to your heart
can break you apart

and if you think it's love
it may not feel like love

open your sad eyes

the world is waiting for you

Somewhere along the way
I started looking for love in lust
and thinking if someone saw me naked
they cared enough to see my naked soul.

when i open my eyes
all i see are the ghosts of yesterday
their silhouettes dancing along my walls
in the morning light
i see all of the promises broken
wishes left unspoken
and my heart longs for something
something it's never truly known

but when i close my eyes
i see you and i
lost in the forest of your eyes
your lips deeply pressed against mine
fireworks illuminate the sky
and for once my heart beats slowly
it doesn't long for anything
for once i feel at home

I come from sunlight,
      The sweeping of leaves,
      South London streets,
      Lurburnum seeds;
      Hot semolina,
      A spoonful of jam,
      Hands full of gooseberries,
      That's who I am.

      I come from rose petals,
      The sound of the fairs,
      The smell of candyfloss
      Mist in the air;
      I come from warmth,
      My parents hands,
      Outings to parks,
      Both small and grand.

     I come from knowledge,
     True and false,
     From nursery rhymes,
     And stories and pictures of God;
     I come from gentleness,
     A quiet afternoon,
     From visions of loveliness,
     Sewn on a spool.

    I come from two worlds,
    With different ways,
    A threaded pearl necklace,
    And sensible soles
    A mother and father,
    I think I knew,
    I came and I wandered,
    I looked at the view.

       By Mary **

The way she smiles as she walks,
The way she jokes when she talks.
The serious expression her face takes on,
The way her eyes are never drawn.
The feeling when she hugs me to her chest,
And all my problems go to rest.
The nickname that she gave to me,
Always spoken so playfully.
The slight wrinkles on her forehead,
From life's problems that she was too early exposed.
This is the girl that I love,
A fighter,
A survivor,
A warrior.
Though we will never be together,
My love for her will never falter.

you can dip your words in honey and sugarcoat your wicked tongue,
but nothing can change your rotten heart or change what you have done.

― poetry doesn't make what you did pretty

Sometimes I think I've shared too much
I feel like I'm posting away pieces of my soul.
A part of me wants to hide my poetry away
But the other part always listens to the voices in my head
and they demand to be shared and heard.

So I don't know what to do
when my brain is at war
I think I'll just take a seat
and let both parties fight

Dishonoring a woman’s
       Vulnerability
       Will cause her
    To sealed  her heart
Like a flower exposed
  In the scorching heat
      And I pledge
It will be impenetrable
To redeem her bloom
Once you’ve proven
You cannot be trusted
      Be the heart
       That lights
    Another heart
Share your heart songs
   With compassion
        Diversely
      Don’t share it
            At all