these broken bones do not need another broken home. the rattling underneath my skin is not a wailing sound crying for help. i will not beg to be wanted. i will not beg for a love that feels like home only to be accused of trespassing.
i. he tells me that the iron in his bittersweet blood pumps just for me but the corybantic taste of gun metal on his plump heliotrope lips bears the names of other young lemon balm girls
ii. he runs his tongue over my bloodied lip and bitten flesh as a sugar-coated pristine apology leaves his own because love is only a blood sport for this arcane and the only way he knows how to love is to ****.
iii. he mixes vintage cyanide and coconut water inside of a wine glass while in the driver’s seat of his ‘69 fastback and leaves the blood orange sun rays to seep into my warm undertone skin that is slowly decaying in the passenger’s seat, waiting for his essence to bleach my bloodstream with his carboned deception.
iv. he sews bruised begonias and sullied belledonnas between the crevices of my teeth and leaves me with phantoms that will rip out every cuspid in my mouth; i will rot with the wailing of the weeping woman. he tells me that i am his favorite cryptic artwork throughout the history of sacred retellings.
v. he burns out his corojo cigars onto my ashtray glass skin and watches how it pops, crackles, and melts into my safety pin bones and grow tumor cells within the cracks of my peach mimosa ribcage until i wither to smoke and dust
vi. he sharpens his teeth with a razor blade and licks up the flames of my soul with his serpentine tongue. he will swallow me whole like an acid tab and offer the same one to the next girl with a sharper spine.
vii. my body is his confession booth, wrapped in all of his sins like barbwire. he is absinthe mixed with satiating sunday sins who kisses gospel into my thighs and i fall to my bare knees for a devil with the framework of a god.
oh hi! long time no see!
he plays a sweet symphony—
touches as soft as silk
cherry stained kisses like
remedies to my mouth
he reads my skin like poetry
and whispers about dissolving into our skin—
i love you the first time
i'll love you the last time
dame tu cadena y dame tu corazón
because i'm your poet on fire
and you're my royal blue singer
i love you forever
i'll love you forever
i wrote this a few days ago, this was obviously heavily inspired by lana
burning sensations on ****** tongues
( come on baby, light my fire! )
silky fingers slide into my throat and make me
purge a sweet haven for you.
( jesus christ, you’re a mess. )
your mother always said not to mess with fire
but here you are playing with my matches.
ILLUMINATE ME. MAKE THE ROOM GLOW.
BREATHE HUMANITY INTO MY COLD DEAD LIPS.
DIP YOUR BLEEDING TONGUE INTO MY RIBS AND
TASTE LIFE ON MY SINEW. I CRAVE THE FEELING OF
BEING WANTED, I THRIVE OFF THE FEELING OF LOVE
AND PASSION. I CUT MY FINGERS ON YOUR SHARDS BUT
I LICK THE BLOOD OFF AND KEEP TRYING.
THEY SAY IM A HAZARD
BUT THAT’S ONLY BECAUSE THEY
HAVEN’T MET YOU.
your lips touch my ear / breath on my skin / making mine hitch /
goosebumps on my body / you whisper love prose / paint me in golden strokes / i will come undone for you / your name is stuck and clogged in my throat / i’m not choking on you / i’m choking on us / we’re fiery beacons of light / i will come undone for you / i feel fireworks exploding in the pit of my stomach / i wish i could stay here / stay with you forever /
isn’t that part of our purpose? / stay with me / stay with me in the morning light.
your lover is a forest fire and she keeps
you warm all throughout the winter.
she lights, you burn.
she fades, you yearn.
does it ever get tiring
to love something so volatile?
my lover is the gentle breeze of spring
the serendipity of summer
and i’m not ashamed to say i love her.
my lover came to me in a form of a musician.
he sang melodies and loved being on stage
but he didn’t love me.
my lover came to me in a form of a musician.
it was no surprise that he turned me into history blues.
i can see your silhouette against the lone silver frame of
the island moon. even your veins are paper mache, and there’s an
ache in my heart like you left your fingerprints all over my chest and
kept me from breathing properly. it’s fun to watch: you’re a scraped kneecap.
a kid who won’t take off his training wheels, spring in the desert.
you can see: everything is special in my eyes only if it’s
in relation to you. if i am the moon then you are the stars, lending me your sheen.
two years later,
do traces of me still
hide in the pages of your worn-out
song book, the same way i scatter pieces
of you in the crossed-out lines of my poetry?
a drunk getting into bar fights
(he cant punch what’s
really bothering him)
in the well-lit street full
of people trying to find comfort
underneath the moonlight’s weeping tears.
your vampire teeth
likes biting on what’s not yours
so you afford a fleeting ******
between a descendant tableaux
and your rosy cheeky maiden who you
****** the life out of
and when you’re done
you rest your head on my shoulder.
if one day your
liquor washed mouth
would be as generous and kind
as my fingertips,
my heart would not find
salvation in other bodies that aren’t yours
my tongue and lips are too forgiving
of you and you do not deserve it
so drink up, liquor mouth
that’s all you ever do
hey! long time no see! today’s my birthday so i decided to pay a visit!
he is the scrape of knees and knives
the clawing of fingernails on marble columned spines with the bones breaking down into dust
he is the scaring of a fresh wound that i inflict on myself so i can feel something and he is the stinging tears i cry, holding cyanide underneath a serpentine tongue.
he is the rawness in my chest and throat
from screaming for him to leave me be
but he brings me love
and dilutes my blood
with salt water
meet me anywhere under the sun!
i’ll be waiting for you in a white sundress.
i’ve been waiting for you to come home.
we can share a strawberry and drink sweet honey iced tea in bottles
we could talk about how you captured the sun in your bare hands and swallowed it whole!
are you waiting for me? are you waiting for me, my love? because i’m waiting for you. it's all i do.
let our radiant warm bodies unfold between the bedroom’s white sheets and sink into the only religion we know— lust; hoping it revives us from our past sins.
we drench our messy souls in kerosene
so that when the fluorescent citylights
touch our fruit sap skin, we can burn tenderly
and call it afire love! we dance in old hotel rooms and paint each other’s bodies with technicolor beats and map each other’s anatomy and build pavements of small towns from it so we can finally stop telling ourselves that we’re lost souls.
our hearts vandalize our innocence and youthful skin in each other’s name dedicated to these serene days that we will never forget because i heard that’s what lovers do.
i met the love of my life in a dream.
we ate fresh baked bread on a floral bridge
that was over a running azure lake that had all kinds of water creatures below the surface, and i told him he was the one for me. “aime-moi” i said before we were in front of the eiffel tower. he kissed me with his pineapple juice lips and i got drunk off the feeling. his words were almost as enchanting as the scenery and the moment, i told him “estoy enamorado de ti!” and that’s when he disappeared in a cloud of peach hue smoke.
so please, loverboy
if you’re reading
let’s go back
i look at him and it’s so simple.
i love beautiful things and like to romanticize
fingers pressed to sienna skin that’s stained with vermilion. i sigh. unfolding in the corners of his eyes. “stop!” i’m trying to say. “this is too much!” i feel my whispers release into the ears of silent walls, they echo right down to his core and make him shiver. “i mean it!” i scream before the sudden pause. i cant help but weep.
it’s such a shame
that we think we’re bigger
than our bodies.
let me write you love notes
i think about how i’ll carve them into the flesh of your cheeks, maybe with a smile
because if you’d just let me tell you about the way it feels when i see you come alive in the darkness, eyes blazed, love taking over your sun lit soul. we could dance on the mattress of the hotel bed while listening to nirvana and i can tell you how about the cards and how they lead me to you. i like your face, it’s quite enchanting. i think i saw it in a dream once.
there was salvation in his smile.
an undeniable warm feeling
that would trickle in your crimson veins
like cold tears on radiant burning cheeks.
he looked like one of those crafty handcrafted
statues in those expensive-looking art museums. you can’t help but admire him and his scenery. god could return on earth in a
mortal body, but all i will see is my apollo.
golden honey hair and fresh water hazel eyes— eyes that could bring you to your knees in one simple glare
sun kissed bronze skin with rose and sword tattoos, my oh my, he’s blessed with michelangelo’s paintbrush! he’s a painting on god’s favorite art wall!
all i see is him.
all i see is art.
baby, come get drunk off my sins.
i’ll whisper your holy name with words
from the bible in french and kiss your scars
before letting you ******* honey mixed with poison.
tell me, my love, how did you rip off the warning labels on your body so i could be easily fooled? tell me! tell me!
you're exhaling chemicals and i'm inhaling them
the nicotine that fills your lungs is making them feel like they're going to explode, and you hold onto my shoulder for comfort
you claim you're better on your own
but i slept with you in your car because you were fist fighting demons on highway 90
so, baby boy, tell me how you ripped off those tags that were supposed to warn me about you? tell me how you got your friends to be quiet! tell me! tell me!
you're face to face
and i'm about to shake his hand.
worn out faux leather jackets for lean shoulders; tattoos with meaning; tattoos with none; smirking lips glisten whiskey and salt; slender diesel-smudged hands wrapped on a bottle, waist, throat.
wispy smoke veiled sick brown eyes
nicotine, gunpowder, or maybe just you
your fiery breath
in the haunting brisk of autumn
pain and pleasure in semi-darkness
behind locked doors
floral perfume oil with the rotting nostalgia stench and bitter tobacco melting through
one match made in heaven! set the world on fire!
mess in a mess; flesh and soil
my funeral congregation of saint skies
you mumble an urban prayer, throw a gardenia
in the dirt, flicker of the flame. let it burn!
ashes, ashes, she shall fall down.
when the bullet burned my heart
did your senses sizzle with satisfaction?
it won’t be the first time
my body gave you pleasure
and i’m sure it won’t be the last time
when pain excites you
i’m slow dancing in a burning room
and my faults are on full display
as the smoke fills my tar black lungs
the song is getting louder and it feels
as if i’m entangled with the ghost of who i used to be
these may nights are lonelier
than they once were
it’s as if they’re telling me
“here’s the knife!”
before jabbing it in my insides
where they know it hurts the most
i look for my soul
but i don’t know where it’s gone
where did i bury it?
can somebody tell me?
— i hid my feelings so well
that i forgot where i buried them.
you will not go on like this into the night!
i will rip the fascination and souls out of the moonlight; romanticize the way you reach your hand into the dark like the way you philosophize putting your hands onto a lover who cannot fathom between a tragedy and a fairytale.
i draw planets on my wrist
outlined with the ink of a sharpie
my fingers are numb when i put my nails to my teeth; i smile anyway.
we tumble onto couches and beds
i sing you a song about ghosts and dancing
staring up at your ceiling and talking about
my lips are tinted red from you biting down on them and my lips are glossed with tangerine ***** (your voice is murmured as you tell me you love me while i play with the lighter. i tell you the truth —i’m suffocating— you tell me to go to sleep)
your hands twist my skin
into hearts and stars
(we call it on the bottle, if it lands on you, i’m
yours. on me? i’m out the door.)
self destruction is the new mouth watering fantasy, we make ourselves bleed just to feel something.
(but baby, i’m so bored with all of this.
red wine spills onto my white tee shirt
and i hate the way it stains
but i still drink with you anyway)
your lips and guitar must be lonely tonight
while you drive to the gas station to buy ***** to drown yourself in, the bruises on your knuckles aching while i lay in bed listening to track number five on the mixtape you made me.
( and we still make ourselves bleed
but this time it’s for fun )
memories do not always soften with time
like these ones i carry on my spine
sometimes, they grow edges, like blades
some memories pierce.
ghosts don’t haunt us; it is us who cannot let them go. (i am telling you now: let go or be dragged)
i stay up nights upon nights with madness filling my ink veins
ugly grief is the price we pay for love
how quick we are to run back to those who hurt us and fight ourselves for their redemption
i saw his soul with my dark eyes
and held it in my bare hands
i loved it, oh, my, i adored it
i still do.
i am alone on my bedroom floor
the carpet burns my calves and the runny nose and eyes
i can feel the moon closer than ever as if it’s waiting for a big kiss
it looked like a crescent keyhole, the other side being a realm of light. being in the dark never felt so unsettling, i forgot how lonely summertime is.
i remember i told you i wanted to live amongst the stars and sleep on the moon
you smiled at me and said
“i would love that too, but won’t you get scared of living in the darkness without seeing the light?”
oh but darling, whom are you to speak? you’ve been surrounded and consumed by darkness all of your life. what’s a little less moonlight going to do to you?
maybe summertime isn’t so lonely.
maybe it’s just me.
maybe it’s always been just me.
filled with rage, laced with shame.
disgust fills my weary bones
this cannot be!
i would die to be myself again
i would die to be myself again, with you.
he held more curiosity
in his electric dark eyes
than most people did
in their entire body
but he came and went so often, my darling, i did not think love was practical for us. it was a dream! more ridiculous and risky than all of his noble adventures combined!
i hid my deepest feelings so well
that i forgot where i places them
dear my lover
go on! i have a new adventure for you!
etch your roads in my molten bones
burrow for those jewels of my love
you’ll find them somewhere near
the arteries in my heart in the oasis of
that’s where i will wait for you, my love!
under the shade of a palm tree
dipping my bare foot in azure waters
sparkling under the eastern sun
come find me
i’ll be waiting
(i can’t wait for you to tell me
how you killed two birds with one stone)
“better to die standing than to live on your knees.” you remarked
you wanted to be revolutionary.
you wanted to be the dawn
when all the stars in the sky fade
you were red all over, a deep crimson
with passion and rebellion
i wanted to taste your sweat, your blood,
oh and your crybaby tears.
but all i have is this portrait of you, my love
(but everyone else does too!)
oh, my lover
the man with twinkling eyes
the ink michelangelo blessed him with
the terror bloodbath he bathes in
you did not become a revolutionary
you became the revolutionary
so i will try to stand
i’m on my knees
you spoke often of the
horrible headaches and hunches
of your childhood
singing lessons, fever.
tattoo ink, stuffy nose.
loud voices, blurry vision.
(perhaps because you were
too much for your own body to
they called you many things
beauty, devil, and a poet.
but you only wanted thing—
to be a musician of fine arts
to leave your handprint on the world
the ***** and the girls!
oh my! what a world!
angelus dulce! hear my call!
sole lover of my house and heart!
i do regret to inform you all
‘‘twas more than the song of angels
and saints that tore us apart.
(i dare to say
that some days
i still hear him sing)
for a writer to be lovesick
is my only required ethic
in creating a work of heart
so when i skimmed your
saint kissed mouth
and moonlight eyes
indeed my first thoughts were— ah! art!
there it was
cupid’s finely-poised dart!
draw, aim, fire!
o, so sweet, a sinful desire
lovesick! lovesick! lovesick!
i wish to write you a work of art, angelus dulce!
you whispered with ferocity
“love is an illusion, chèri.
but illusion is the first of all pleasures”
and at that moment
i dipped my body in your delusional paradise
and praised the saints for giving me the ****** wine to drink
illusion is the first of all pleasures.
“it was love at first sight, at last sight, at ever and ever sight.”
when electric eyes meet dead ones
the whole world pauses as the dead gets
shocked back to life! she has electricity coursing through her veins, and it gave him a shock of clarity! his eyes were fiery, they held souls of the living and the dead. oh my, he looked like death! she saw no life in him, but she swore she could breathe her air into his maggot lungs. she watched him. she watched him close. before big arms wrapped around a small body, a chin resting upon a head. he told her she was beautiful! oh so magnifique! his touch was imprinted on her for days!
the day they both felt their souls intertwine!
light of his life, fire of his *****.
in the land of gods and monsters
i was an angel looking for salvation
and he had the medicine i needed
he made my blood bleed gold rivers
and my heart pump love songs
in the land of gods and monsters
i was an angel looking to be adored
liquor and love
life imitates art
if i get a little prettier, can i be your baby?
in the lands of gods and monsters
i was an angel.
it’s my soul
it isn’t yours anymore.
they were both broken.
but the only difference was
that he took his anger out in music and alcohol
and she took it out in poetry and blades
two broken hearts
and two hurt souls
can’t make a whole
but oh, they tried.
they really did.
now it’s 3am and you’re
calling me up again
going on about the **** you
wish you said
the words slur
and the music in the background is louder
this is when i learn
you only call me when you’re drunk.
“i’ll burn your name into my throat
and i’ll be the fire that’ll catch you”
people told me it’s good to pick up the pieces and put them back together as a whole
but what if i don’t even want to?
my tongue was red from the jolly ranchers
and my lips were glossed with tangerine *****
we stripped down bare
and i could see your smile
when you saw me exposed
flashes and lipstick stains on
i cared for you
until i stopped caring for myself
the pictures are buried deep somewhere
in my room but your image is imprinted in my brain
remember when i said if the bottle landed on you, i was yours?
i’m still yours.
you carved constellations into my wrist
and painted my body with the blood
i thought it was beautiful
but i should’ve known that eventually
i would bleed out
you light incense in your house to
keep the bad spirits away, but i still don’t understand how you could let me in. my soul is frigid and inked filled. it is raw and violent. it is terror.
i tried searching up your birthchart when i was high on my sentiment, but ended up vomiting on my bedroom floor and didn’t finish. but i heard sagittarius’ are adventurers, do you want to take a trip to my anatomy? you could play the harp with my ribcage, and play jump rope with my heartstrings. i don’t mind the pain when it comes to you. rip my heart out if you want, make my bones become dust! i love the pain when it comes to you.
you made me forget that i hated myself when we were lying in that cheap hotel bed, laughing with our veins filled with adrenaline. we were drunk off each other’s energy, and i felt complete. mama loves you, and she wants me to keep you around. she doesn’t have to worry though, because i want you around too. for as long as possible. please don’t leave. please don’t leave.
the phoenix is a sign of renewal and i used to wear that bird’s charm around my neck. keeping it on me at all costs. i would hear death knock on my bedroom door, and hear the skeletons in my closet cry for more. i should’ve suffocated them harder.
i ended up losing that necklace after two years of having it. but i don’t think i need it anymore because you replaced it.
so let’s strip the world black and white, mon chèri.
and you can play the ukulele
while i write love verses on your ceiling.
i wrote this for my best friend whom i love very much! he is electric and he sends jolts in my body like euphoria
he stood in front of me with his dead eyes, arms wide and a smile so big that it reached ear to ear. holding me into a tight embrace, he whispered how beautiful i was.
but darling has a serpent tongue that i couldn't see before.
his fool's paradise is dripping from his fingers while he plays the harp on my ribcage
parasite boy promised me his soul
and begged me to make him golden.
i told you i wanted to live amongst the stars
and sleep on the moon.
you smiled at me and said
“i would love that too
but won't you get scared of living in the darkness
without seeing the light?”
but oh darling, whom are you to speak?
you've been surrounded and consumed by darkness all of your life
what's a little less moonlight going to do to you?
there's a divine boy who is the personification of a greek tragedy.
he has heaven in his eyes and gold for bones.
he finds himself tangled and drunk off my fermented words
his head thrown back in ecstasy and delusional paradises.
a soul so electric, it gave me a shock of clarity
holding his name on my tongue feels hot and sinful
i couldn't contain it
( but i should've know that every tragedy ends the same
there's a reason they're called tragedies
i mistook the hellfire in his eyes for the heavens
and now i'm melting from my wings )
i used to wonder where i would
put all the overwhelming love that
filled me up to the brim since it was beginning to overflow. i tried shoving my heart into the palms of everyone i met and begged them to take it, but their anatomy was so full that they couldn’t bare to squeeze in mine even if they wanted to.
i wondered why my love was not strong enough to make people stay. giving up my bones so people can wear them as a necklace to show they will always have a part of me even when i didn’t want them to.
my blood is staining the clothes that they burned to get rid of the evidence of me ever being there, and i learned to keep my mouth shut.
i also learned that putting a light
in the house that your soul died in
will not keep it from haunting you.
curse my name with your serpent tongue. step back in disgust and purge all the memories of me like bad liquor—as if my name gave you a bitter taste in your mouth. act like the tastebuds on your tongue never craved any of it.
i’m clinging onto the little sanity i have left because the rest of it is decomposing like a dead corpse in the grave.
you told me i had no backbone, but last time i checked, all my limbs were a phantom.
something about us made me feel so safe.
he could caress my cheek with a knife behind his back, and i would have leaned in closer and tell him to pierce my chest so he could get even closer to my heart.
you have winter in your veins
and i know at point i lived for the glacial temperatures.
i lived for the ice covering my bones
and you filling my body up to the brim with your filthy mistakes and careless words. how much do i have to pay you to hear you say those three little words again?
i keep replaying the vhs tape to our movie even though i always know how it ends.
i know how it ends, yet i watch it like a deer watches the headlights because i long for the familiarity that was once us, even though it makes me want to purge my guts out until my throat is strained and scratched.
i got drunk off your finger-crossed promises that the light at the end of the tunnel was right ahead and we needed to keep our head up. i sipped from your cup of honeyed words as if your delusional paradise could quench my thirst.
i’m slowly breaking down and distinguishing the pronunciations of safety and comfort, and they no longer sound like your name. they don’t sound like your name at all.
all you ever did was visit. you never stayed. my heart and ribcage was a home to you inconsistently inhabited whenever you feel alone and weak. but when the time came to renew the lease, you left me to sit fully furnished with your bad intentions; all the weight of your baggage that you were tired of carrying on your back was unloaded onto me. i reached my full capacity a long time ago, but you were blind to see that i was overflowing.
i would rip my lungs out if it meant it would quiet my screams that cry for you
i bite my tongue because i know my words never meant anything to you.
when i walked away from you, i left behind a universe filled ecstasy and unwanted come downs.
and i always tried to make you sure you were safe and had something to hold onto so you wouldn’t go flying away
but i guess you loved being high more than the firm grounding i put you on time and time again.
we found comfort in the chaos
but i’m no longer your lovebird
i’m ready to be set free from my cage for good.