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Jul 2021 · 877
No Worries
igc Jul 2021
There’s something about the bleeding of
a pen through paper and on to
the other side
It gives me
a sense of permanency
Trying hard to stay put
it bleeds for its home

A mother hoping so much
to hold on. Leaves a
mark on their children
A tattoo of trauma
Leaves a mark on your
children

A love so sweet it’s tattoo
permanent mark my skin
with your presence on my
shoulder; permanent
A hope so sweet, I hope it’s
permanent

Bleed through my skin, leave a
splotch like pen to a paper
marking home reminding
you of its permanence
Dec 2020 · 259
Numb
igc Dec 2020
You know
The feels
I feel
The most
Are the feels
That feel
Like you
Dec 2020 · 174
Wednesday Morning
igc Dec 2020
Sunrise colors deliver my sadness,
Have you noticed what they bring?
Peeking thoughts of labor, love, and leaving
Blur the lines
And show me gods and ghosts and greed

Every tear's a piercing needle
The masochistic indulgence I'm desperate for
Sorrow replacing all need and apprehension
I feel you with me while deprived and alone
Together does not assume company,
it's a notion I can't describe
Whispers say it means I love you,
the moon saying its goodbyes

Teach me something you've never heard of
Watch me blink into a new eye sight
Fuzzy visions yielding promise
making sure you're alright
Falling slowly deeper and deeper
You're the view behind my eyes
First thing in the morning,
last thing at night
Fill my insides with ticklish whispers
Catch my soul holding you right
Dec 2020 · 223
Bombshell
igc Dec 2020
If I could fold up and package all the things
I do that make you upset I would

I would carefully twist and wrap and bend and
stuff them into a grenade and set it off inside your house

The worst of me is still my best
Dec 2020 · 233
Midnight
igc Dec 2020
I sat outside
In the rain for what felt like
Years
And still
No matter how late it got
You did not call
Jul 2016 · 1.4k
Vertigo
igc Jul 2016
I've sat on countless rooftops with dozens of people staring blankly at stars urging them to teach me something

Despite my pleas it's impossible for them to predict whether or not our little impact will render in this world

And still I haven't been able to understand why my very existence does or does not matter until tonight

On roof tops surrounded by great friends who wouldn't be here without the help of the stars aligning perfectly

The answer seems simple
Nov 2015 · 951
Milky Way
igc Nov 2015
My mother always warned me about
handsome boys with meteors for tongues
and grips resembling black holes
but never

About pretty girls with star dust in their breath
and tummies softer than the clouds floating in the sky.

The first time she spoke my name
my mind could not comprehend why
my palms had started to sweat
and my smile stretched across horizons.

The second time it did.

See, I'm not one to reach blindly into the stars,
but in that moment it seemed as if
rocket ships were built to discover the
galaxies in her eyes.

And I didn't mean to make this a running cliche
but that night I saw millions of lightyears into the future
and I'm convinced Saturn's rings would look just as stunning
on her finger.

My horizon fades as I remember her galaxy has its own sun
igniting her days with happiness and warmth
not yet found in my solar system.

My mother always told me to look before I leap
but the gravity surrounding her entire being
keeps giving the illusion
I'll land safely.
Nov 2015 · 399
Self Destruct
igc Nov 2015
I wish I wouldn't think of you
as much as I do.

I wish your words didn't swim around my head
forcing me to clench my eyes shut in an effort to stop
impossible images from invading my dreams.

I wish it didn't make me angry.
     That I could just accept what it is I'm feeling
     but I can't.

I hate it.
I hate you.

I wish I could read your mind.
     Find out who's behind that sheepish look
     and wicked smile.
        
I wish you didn't remind me of writing.
     That your gaze didn't resurrect the most
     embarrassing of cliches from my lips.
              
               Please,
               Give me my breath back.
    
I wish I hated it.
I wish I hated you.
May 2015 · 697
Cliff Jumping
igc May 2015
You told me never to fall for a poet.
That their metaphor coated tongues
would inevitably cloud my judgement,
Yet every time you compared my smile
to a fresh bag of wind
My sun would creep out from between
the overcast and warm my bones.

You told me never to fall for an athlete.
That their cunning games were played
both on and off the field,
Yet the way you looked at me
contradicted your actions so
thoroughly you left me feeling
meticulously played.

You told me never to fall for a scholar.
That their strict lives were led by their
reason and not by their heart,
Yet every time you confided in me I felt
as though your calculated mind held
all the answers to the universe
overshadowed by your desires and
motivations

You told me never to fall.
Yet you pushed me.
May 2015 · 1.9k
Nice To Meet You
igc May 2015
So
You're the kind of infatuation
Momma warned me about
May 2015 · 9.8k
Selfish
igc May 2015
If I could have one wish,
I'd wish for you

Call me selfish

But I know you'd make me a better person
than I could ever be.
May 2015 · 2.3k
Watermelon Seed
igc May 2015
Swallowed by mistake
Sprouting lovely roots inside
Make me beautiful
May 2015 · 544
Littmus Lozengee
igc May 2015
Melancholy at its finest
Is forcing me
To see you
Every day
May 2015 · 306
Beautiful
igc May 2015
If only swallowing glitter
Had the same effects
As Tequila
May 2015 · 423
What is Happiness?
igc May 2015
No matter how many times you say and say you don’t miss him
        the warmth of his arms around you will still remind you of the  
        very first time he told you he loved you.

And even though your same day is repeated over and over you are still    
        allowed to feel the uncanny joy at the cleansing feeling of a new day  
        that the near hour you spend in the shower brings.

Remember, that if you're happy, your friends should be too, and they can
        be and they cannot be. But so can you, the validity of your    
        happiness is never reflected in the reactions of others and you can
        still be a blushing bride regardless of whether or not you are
        blushing or a bride as long as you feel that way.

Now, you don’t ever have to live your life based on the opinions of others
        and if they stare they stare and you should feel nothing but life
        because you’re you and you’re living it despite someone who told
        you no.

And when Christmas time comes around be happy, or sad, or angry or
        whatever you want because emotions mean you're feeling and feeling
        whatever way you are means you're experiencing and if experiencing
        makes you happy then do so and even if it doesn’t do so anyway.

To be honest I can’t believe anyone’s truly lived without taking risks but
        then again maybe they have but is that really living? There’s nothing
        wrong with making the first move and if he’s not manly enough to
        do so please show him how woman you can be.

And Next time you look at yourself in the mirror and don’t like what you
        see change it! Put in on, make it bigger, cut it off because no one else’s
        opinion really matters other than your own and until your reflection    
        reflects that happiness you long to see don’t stop.

Remember to congratulate your friends and your enemies and everyone
        so that when you’ve accomplished something bigger — and you will
        accomplish something bigger—  they’ll have a basis on which to act
        upon.

Finally take every time he put you down as a victory meaning he feels
        threatened by what you’ve accomplished, forgive him every time he
        does though but make him work every time more so.

Spend every moment together as if it were your last because life’s too
        short to wait around for him to pick up the slack and know that he
        may be mad when you do, but he’ll always prefer it over losing you,
        so be happy, be sad, be hopeful, be mad because happiness is
        what you make it.
Written as a spoken word for a short film project.
May 2015 · 24.1k
Millennials
igc May 2015
I saw the best minds of my generation congested and
polluted overdosing on irrelevance

Abandoned abused replaced
Fed to the thought police
Corrected corrupted
Declining the potential to be heard in
exchange for the opportunity to be documented

Lives being lived according to unfeasible standards
You either make it or you don’t
there’s no in between
there’s no maybe
there’s no equal

Left to meander through the conceived thoughts of others
decisions being made
moves being made
eulogies being made

nothings real
nothing’s right
nothing’s honest
nothing thought up matters


Who in the safety of their homes were taught respect
are told to mask their emotions
Identities saved for the weak
Only to be showcased when conducive

Who pump iron into their veins
looking for an angry fix of acceptance
Sweat streams surge down their backs
Failure prominent in their thoughts
Motivation blessing their features
the Devil clever in disguise

Who see little white fields of fairy dust
a never ending landscape of courage
giving them superpowers beyond belief

Nothing beats the freedom of being told
You can fly

Who dream of equality behind closed eyes
But render to imposed birth rights when open
The upper hand implying more than height
and executing more force than necessary to move them

It’s all about the cause until you’re indubitably
the effect

Who tuck monsters into their beds
Forgetting to check closets for skeletons not quite left behind
in the path of carefully chaotic self destruction
Conveniently purging themselves of words whispered
in the throes of passion
Forced upon the ears of all naive enough to listen

Who carelessly expend countless hours playing with
condescending pawns disguised as adults
All grown up with no where to go
Replacing quality with quantity
Leaving long dull trails of breadcrumbs
leading to hearts long since lost
Never to be recovered again

Who follow sexuality by the book
doing this to get that for this him them who what when where
Why does the finish line have to be covered with brightly colored lace and muffled drunk cries chanting no

Who stare dead straight into the soul of love but never
Never into her eyes
Told she is not worthy of being addressed directly
Fingers itching to cop a feel
Only to discover the body is but a passage to her straight dead soul


Who trade in their voice mind and individuality
for half assed smiles and superficial men
As the face of a leviathan nicknamed acceptance
hands them a paycheck they’ve worked too
night day night night hard to refuse

Who idolize the feel of phantom limbs of lovers past
Twisted words convoluting their heads
Forcing on masks of pure heroine
at the sight of scars left on the soul
Scratching at the need to feel wanted
But cowering at the ability to truly be heard

Who have perfected the art of parallel painting
Elegant red streaks hidden beneath layers of
choppy dark colored hate covering pretty pale limbs
Seeming to fade as colorlessly caked on insecurities susurrate bitter-sweet nothings that curl themselves just inside her mutilated skin

Who scavenged their looks from the bottom of holes
they’re expected to clamber out of
Smiling pretty smiling
Being treated to complimentary meals
Only to be served plates full of disappointment.

Who crave companion’s flaws
in ruthless attempts to satisfy their hunger for compassion
Selfless beings dedicated to less than noble attempts at vanquish
The call for heat too satisfying to refuse the trade off forever uselessly launching themselves into razor sharp blades
aimed at ***** sleeves

Who see soft lips as cushion enough to fall from towers built of fear
Dragging moist palms across pavement thighs
Tearing at the seams holding their
hearts together

Who cower behind brick wall appearances
fruitlessly clutching on to ideas reserved for the most fortunate
Scaring away potential with claws that seemingly only come
out to play in the face of acceptance

Who’s sick stick thin limbs trail their worn down
fingernails in an effort mar skin no one can see
Streaks titillate their bright red scalps
A reflection of their underlying journey

Who disgorge yesterday's meal from stomachs long before empty
Blood spewing from the mouth an open wound
Continuously sewed up but never stitched tight correctly
Wiring shut opinions but never gorged enough to
muzzle their Howls



Ideas, calm and collected have long been hijacked and invaded by Hestia

Hestia! Consent! Content! Acceptance!
Long nights and roid rage men!
Two faces fighting a losing battle!
Girls playing mom! Boys playing war!
Ill ridden parents still pledging to the
United States of Controlling Media!

Hestia! Hestia!
Overall reign of Hestia!
Hestia the beautiful!
Incarcerated Hestia!
Hestia the ******!

Hestia twisted and shaped to form the voice of conformity
Hestia constantly watching over and monitoring
Hestia being told what to ******* think

Hestia seeping creeping sneaking into the
darkest crevices of our minds
Hestia when least expected coming out to say
Hello

Too late! Hestia’s already made herself at home
Wedged between the rooks of your biggest fear and
burrowed deep into the folds of
Your  Worst  Nightmare

Stuck in a constant battle between
rejecting Hestia,
and accepting her.
This was obviously inspired by Allen Ginsberg's "Howl."
Considering it was, at the time, the voice of that generation, Welcome to Generation Y.
This is a work in progress.
May 2015 · 6.7k
Blackish
igc May 2015
I am Comfortable
     able to ease your fears with
     a smile or a flip of my
     appropriately curly hair.

I am forgiven traffic ticket
     proper sentences and twinkly
     eyes, able to quickly ease your alarm

I am Just a Warning

I am The Exception
     elegant sentences
     king's English
     never tolerating the incorrect use of their

I am private college education
     the accessory to your culture
     the other to your subject
     always complimentary,
     but never the source of discussion

I am Beautiful
Accompanied by "What are you mixed with"
     A reflection of appropriation for my own culture
     Too White for Black,
     Too Black for White

I am inner city in the suburbs

I am Lightskinned
     the kind of Black that keeps you
     Comfortable.
May 2015 · 390
My Romantic Life
igc May 2015
Gorgeous wild muck
Timidly flying into war
Realize your villain
May 2015 · 1.3k
Desire For My Childhood
igc May 2015
Dancing into leaves
Cheeks violet from promises
Clever mouthing fire
May 2015 · 360
A Regret
igc May 2015
Torture the sucker
Which shines before simple peace
Revolting as thunder
May 2015 · 350
A Tirade About my Future
igc May 2015
Shape me all tangled
Overlook that wicked turn
Quickly love me so
May 2015 · 3.4k
Once
igc May 2015
Remember me as a Letter
Carefully written in order to best explain
Everything it is I could not seem to say
               write me easy
               write me deeply
               write me only once.

Remember me as a Love Song
Structurally crafted lyrics filled with melodies
Sweeter than the first time we met
               sing me to your mother
               sing me to your lover
               sing me to your children

Remember me as a Poem
Metaphor coloured emotions
Putting together moments amidst events
That never really happened
But we would swear over and over
That actually did
               colour me purple
               colour me blue
               colour me Red

Remember me in your Nightmares
Think of me on those nights that simply closing your eyes
Causes fear to prickle on your skin
And adrenaline to race through your veins
               close your eyes anyway
               embrace the feeling of helplessness
               let it help you remember

Remember me when you Don't Want To
Promise to think of me in those moments when
Remembering numbs you more than feeling nothing at all
               love me easy
               love me deeply
               love me only once
May 2015 · 550
Teen Idle
igc May 2015
Reiterations of a HighSchool Queen Told in Poem

All things set aside
I Am Topanga
Beanie
Hiding my after shower frizz
Nothing but good vibez
You see who I am

long hair
chunky scarf
heaven tasting
sweatpants wearing
on my off days,

I am Wednesday Adams
Forget ability,
I feel as though I'm bleeding internally
I will
**** Everyone.

It's not o-*******-kay
that because everyones' sipping that hatorade
****'s mad political.

You're either winning
making the boys F
                      A
            L
L
like dominoes
or too tired to chose

You're tired,
looking like a pro
sinking like a shark filled submarine
It's Gross,

yet so ******* charming.
Red and White
Black and Blue
To the Moon and Back
I am who you see
May 2015 · 1.6k
Sunny
igc May 2015
There's nothing I resent more
than my unreasonably cold heart.

A Paradox

Able to languidly thaw those around
while selfishly maintaining
it's frozen exterior.
May 2015 · 3.8k
Up
igc May 2015
Up
I can feel my lungs collapsing with every shallow breath
And I can't decide if it's the holes left behind from
cigarette smoke burns
Or the pieces of me that followed behind you

It's 10:05 and as much as I keep trying to warp the truth
the minutes tick on leaving me stranded in seconds of long lost times

Wishing from fruitless bones
Remembering could have beens that weren't
And chasing endings that never quite were within reach

And I know cigarette fills don't last
But I can ******* time running out
And my bones refuse to give away hints to weather it's a
countdown or liftoff
The essence never quite strong enough to disguise
the bitter after-taste your words left behind with me

It's 4:00 am and as smoke fills my lungs
I vaguely remember being told
the only souls awake at this time are
the lonely and the loved

Now it's been months since I was introduced to this hour but still
all I feel is nothing.

You told me pretty girls don't light their own cigarettes
but that never stopped my lungs from burning
every time you breathed my way

Leaving scars of razor sharp words never spoken
Pushed down to the hollow of my scorching throat
Thirsting for the oasis of the syllables
they were never quite within reach of quenching.

They say cigarettes curve your hunger.
And I guess they're almost right because
so far all this nasty habit has curved is
My appetite for you

Now it Hurts to realize that the attention
I mean cigarettes
You willingly offered were just cleverly disguised poison
Burning away my insecurities only to reintroduce them in misunderstood exhales of passion

All I have left to feel are my lungs gasping for every last breath
Lungs pulsing for every last breath
Lungs shrinking to accommodate every last breath
You took away from me

— The End —