you are so lovely in your wicked ways
you are heavy
i can feel it, so can the room

everyone is waiting for that pause
the one you find yourself existing in

you are so lovely in your wicked ways
finding the quirks
the imbalanced romanticism in their dialect

'yeah, i’m a southern boy'
the kind you swore you’d stay away from

you spent too many nights with knights at rogue water
underage but over your limit

oh boy, that patagonia
slinging country song quarters into the jukebox

take me home!

you are so lovely, even in your wicked ways

do you like country music?
he turns left for the freeway
do you know how to drive stick shift?

you are so lovely, even in your wicked ways
i didn’t fold her laundry
she left my XXL t-shirts without wrinkles
pink, without wrinkles

you are so lovely in your wicked ways
he mixes a couple of drinks for you
reaches to grab your hand from across the bar
seared by the tea-light candle

i waltzed out of that bar like i had him
he is small and beautiful with a temper
i could love him all while hating him

i’m just a gal whose nose bled
after falling into his bed (more than once)
more than once

you got mad at me for photographing the scabs on your arm
it exists as evidence - you’ve bled, you hate it
as if it made you less of a man  

regretting every time you display affection
tell me how you really feel
tell me how you’ve fallen
as if it made you less of a man

baby, you’re my man
and i documented your old blood
because its the closest i’ve gotten
to seeing your insides
the closest i’ve been
to truly believing
that you have a heart
or that you bleed
for me

my baby exists when he wants to
leaving vitamin D outside my door
gives me kisses on my arteries
kisses my bruises even more

my baby gives flowers for breakfast
and claims they won’t ever bloom
he loves me, he loves me not
he speaks in glances across the room

my baby breaks my heart
my baby adores me so
my baby knows just the right spot
gotta let my baby go

we find ourselves crumpled like paper
my nosebleed acts like glue
you smell and taste like pixie dust
my eyes roll around the room

ascending towards heaven
i grip your ribs like handrails

you stop me short -
'i'm going to...'

and like a napkin under the dinner table
i’m falling off your lap

you'll remember me when you need to clean up
when you need to wipe your hands

too far away to tell you my knees hurt
but still close enough that i can hear you breathe in my ear
'oh, kelia'

when you tell me
'i told you so'
or
'i tried to warn you'

i will only be mad at myself for not listening to anything
but 'oh, kelia'

​can only hug me one armed
knights under a fan that shakes
as my legs go their own way
too far gone into loving you
say you love me in some ways too
concerned with your own knees
to worry about mine how can i
willingly put myself in your bed
do you think that maybe when
you leave me for dead
you won’t miss me if you die too!

a loverboy that didn’t last
an agreement
maybe it wasn’t supposed to

i can add him to the list
i’ve got going in my head

‘ones who left’

never wrote it down because
i think it might change

a loverboy who held my head
the 30th time he found me
spinning in circles
chasing neon with whiskey

held it until the morning after
brought me water in a mug
‘you’re a cool girl, can i see you tonight’
and then never called

i can write about him
until i find someone new

loverboy who i wasn’t ready to lose
just yet

he asked ‘yet’?
and i corrected
‘ever’

loverboy who left me little crumbs
to eat
after he took me home for dinner

he says he’s ‘not in the right place
for loving a girl like you’
and i roll my eyes, toss my socks into the corner
‘yet?’ i ask

‘ever’

broken hearts aren’t badges
look how lovable i am, and look how little i care

i don’t mind their stains of red and white on my shirt
the half moon crescents i leave on their pillows

born to misplace words and sleep in different rooms
to love any big eyed sucker who returns eye contact
kisses bruises in unusual places, my hand

to fall every night
to sip the sun until i don’t feel it at all
to return to the mouths i once fed with poetry and mint chapstick

its just that i’ve never loved a wild heart like yours before
and my favorite part -
besides your curly, bleached, dead hair -
is you in that pub with that wild eyed stare

dipping your head side to side
hand slowly moves over my shoulder
“i’m happy to see you. i’m happy to see you.”

and i walk alleyways like runway a model too drunk for her heels
and we say goodbye like actors who never made it big
soap opera goodbyes

i get in a cab and say goodbye goodbye goodbye!

you are a needed nap in the afternoon
a curvy spine on a midsummer bloom

a freckle on a pasty white back
you are the number one cause of heart attacks

you are a seatbelt in my grandma's car
you are a satellite mistaken for a star

you are a bedside table with sleeping pills
a hook stuck in a fishes gills

you aren't really what you seem
a quirk, a cloud, a blurry dream

if i squint my eyes you're the brightest shape
and when i close my eyes i can still see your face

the inside of her legs are numb
she spits poetry out like chewing gum
tan thighs - brown eyed
"you're a monster, kiss me goodnight"

spinning lights inside her head
the blind spots come, she'll leave you dead
ask for taco bell and then she runs -
leaving your trousers half undone

black and blue drip from your eyes
"she said she loved me, then she died"
sleep in the backseat to sweat her out
i have no idea what this poem is about

you smell nice in the shape of a question mark
and your kisses ask me "will you stay"
usually blue, your eyes are dark

glass room
a pharohs tomb, so
everyone on the outside can see

these hearts too restless to ever ignite
say yes when he asks to stay the night

taking you home after a gin and tonic
a flash every few
not from cameras, but from zeus

we sleep parallel
and fit so well
you snore and cough and i don't mind
my hand reaches over and finds your broken spine

the stars sing their only lullaby
he doesn't love you, won't say goodbye

a question mark
a spark

a friends couch, faux fur was your gauze
as you clench your mouth

you're the best, you're the best ever
wipes a bead of sweat, you're my temporary lover
sleep until it is time for brunch
alarm clock is a phone call from your mother

i'm sorry i even tried
i thought i was different, that our spark hadn't died
i'll see you next time
in the shape of a heart

but next time, i won't let you sleep
i'll tear you apart
leave you, grab my things
"until next time,"
in the shape of a scar

freckly nose and wrinkly toes (from bath water)
sway, "hey it's good to see you again, how long are you in town?"

"three days,"

even if we don't spend every minute together
just a night of locked hips is enough for me

my belly is soft
you grab my waist in the donut shop
you have an eye ****** but i don't tell you

i’m crazy and i wanna be - for you!
i don’t mind ripping hair out piece by piece, strand by strand
trying to balance standing next to you
starry eyed, "lets go to the grocery and buy boring things like milk"
open it  in aisle seven drink it on the floor
ignore the strangers and their carts
"it’s okay," they’ll say rollin by
wipe the corners of our mouths, am i crazy?

left you behind
left a small *** of forget me nots, queen’s park, bakerloo, about an hour away from you
a goodbye letter in a plastic bag
“you’re the best lover i’ve ever had.”

“i loved you most when we said goodbye”
i’ve never seen more beautiful, actually, darker eyes

forget me not as i fly across the sea
airplane crashes and you promise to remember me

making love in my landlords living room
a bicycle thief “you’re leaving too soon,”
how did it feel to stay
how are your ankles
your eyes
too grey?

waking up to bbc your alarm
clock radio was the soundtrack
to our mornings at your parents
house where they only sometimes
knew i was there but we would tip
toe but the floors creaked anyway

your purple royal platform bed with
an angel floating above it sometimes
i would accidentally kick it and say
“sorry” and you would laugh and flip
me over like a pancake we spent
national pancake day apart but we
spent other days together and we
were in love like when you’d roll a
cigarette and make me some of
your moms soup and we’d climb
the fence in our socks and they
became damp like my eyes on
the train home from the fox

you made me breakfast one day
while your mom was doing yoga
and then she asked me about
paint colours and offered to make
me a smoothie i wish i could have
said goodbye one more time
i imagined what our kids would
look like they would be beautiful
they would be beautiful wild eyed
and dark pupils we thought we almost
had a kid but we replaced her with a pill
and 5 migraines

oh my god
i am so sorry

it's just that my battery died and i drove around for hours looking for your new second floor apartment
i am sticking my fingers down my throat and i’m gagging until these ******* butterflies find their way out of my cavernous stomach

you aren’t allowed to laugh when i walk through your door with cold taco bell and red cheeks because i’m nervous
you've never seen this freckle before, you don't know my new favorite song
you rest your arms on my legs and move closer to me and we both scream because we’re gonna puke, butterflies

i ask you for a glass of water and you should ask me to leave
trembling, you don’t even use a coaster
i take a sip and stare at the tupperware on the floor, i taste dishwasher soap and it is almost enough to scare these butterflies who used to remain dormant right out of my ******* gut

a sweet girl falls for the first boy she sees
and he is sweet for a while

his curly hair, devilish stare keeps her afflicted for a bit
speaking in tongues, translating words into kisses when they had none
‘i want to kiss you over and over’ in a jazz bar where the drummer isn’t very good
taking the wrong bus three times in a row

he claims he hates poetry and thats all she ever does, write about him
“i can’t wait to remember you”
zippers and untied shoes
a train ride north to sleep at his parents house
and they usually stumble in together after a pint or two
sneaking up the stairs, a bathroom with no doorknob
the floors sing beneath them

you're chugging wine at twenty-three
"i get nervous when you sit too close to me."
after a few, you touch my hand
pull me across the street, "i don't think you understand;
i don’t like the way you love,
shoulder to shoulder, i hate physical touch"
i lean on your bony arm and sigh
sinking beneath me, you’re afraid to die
i should've told you that when i come round
i like them tall, skinny, not afraid to drown

so tell me about those other girls,
was that last one your entire world?
did you float through her rivers, sail across her sea?
did she build you a boat out of your shoulder, neck and knee?
did you let her fingers run through your hair?
did you make contact besides a brown eyed stare?

well i too have a ship full of lovers,
they sing me songs, they pull me under covers
they touch my arm, my cheek, my thigh and lip
they fill the gap where you refuse to fit
i would kiss your face and let you drown
but you’d only let me if my hair were brown

you smell like a memory
a 50 person charter bus only carrying 28
i don't want to let you hear my heartbeat
but i can feel your breath on the inside of my elbow

we have nothing in common
except the day of the week
today we are friday

you are thinking about a two hour time difference
june july and august

'i'm living in the moment,' you say
i nearly kick my legs through the glass of the window
tiny imprints, evidence of a nap on your shoulder

'i'm living in the moment,' you say
and i dip my french fries in your subtle charm
tasting sweet and salty all at once

'i'm living in the moment,' you say
i plant flowers in your ears
but you wait for them to grow

'i'm living in the moment,' you say
'but i'm not that kind of guy'

the kind of girl your parents won’t approve of-
bony kneed with dollar store colors in her hair
crazy eyed- the kind of girl that would lie
while telling you secrets and pretending they’re scars
speaking in spaghetti for dinner, gluten free
takes the handful of change and keeps it
spitting on parking metres and acts as if
sipping cough syrup and swallowing your ***
(you love her sticky palms)
was enough to survive suburbia
the kind of girl that writes your address under her lips
so she can find her way home after tequila and tacos
and keep your initials wet all the time

i dont need to explain why my mouth becomes a half-written dictionary
words like 'um' and 'like' and 'yeah' and 'ha' all pour out at alarming rates and you try and remain mysterious while i just try and remain
so i’ll sleep with you at your parents house and thank you, thank you, thank you for letting me stay
and when you make me breakfast with beans and eggs, i’ll pretend that i don’t see the bacon floating around
i’ll just toss my fork right down the garbage disposal and say hello to your mother and walk your dogs
and i’ll get interrupted while writing about you and i’ll be grateful for it
and that fork is still chugging in the garbage disposal

and please, let me down easy when you dont feel the same
have your mom wave goodbye as we drive down the street

i am the girls you haven’t kissed
the patch of skin below your wrist
i am the sky dark before dawn
your hair before you cut it, blonde and long
i am your neighbors window, a grocery bag
i am the best and the worst thing you’ve never had

you’ll dream of me as soon as i leave
i’ll pretend i don’t know that you watched me sleep
whispered my name, it was almost noon
wiped my eyes and swallowed the moon
thought about you on the train ride home
i’m not allowed to love you, i’ll leave you alone

i can only afford you for a night or two
buy you a drink and a new pair of shoes
let you pull the denim from my skin
drive to the movie theatre just make out and then-
park across the street from the broadway motel
pull my hand across the street and fall in the stairwell
use a gas station bathroom while you fight with the ATM
make love on top of the sheets because we forgot how to swim
it wasn't supposed to be a difficult goodbye
but i swear to god i saw something in your eyes
you breath my name and let me go
use your bare hands to dig my car out of the snow

i would drive to salt lake
just to taste the sodium on your shaky knees
to lick the inside of your eyeballs as they hover above me
for you to kiss where my arm bends and where your dimples are craters
for you to spin me over, ask me to take a shower
twist my neck into yours and say i don’t want to get my hair wet
a motel six won't know much about love like this
but i'll drop a few twenty dollar bills
so i can move into your body and whisper your name until you wake up
for you to reach across my spine and listen to our temporary neighbors
they'll scream out of love, don’t hit me, don’t hit me
and you hold your hand over my ear, and i'll fall back asleep
wake up early to make love, then drive to my job
so i can get paid minimum wage, enough to buy you a drink on a sunday night

took my hand pulled me into a room
where moms and dads danced to the cure
leaned me against the wall and the neon glow was harsh
bent my back against the edge, and leaned in with an orbit gum whisper
‘do you want to get out of here?’

you taste like 2008
you taste like friday night behind the bleachers
you taste like 'lets get back together'
you taste like the carpeted basement of my old house
you taste like stale red vines

you sat across from me, our eyes drawing blanks
i offered you a beer and you said no thanks
we sang songs about making love
and how *** is fun, if you’re drunk enough
i apologized for kissing like a trojan, three hundred in one night
and you on the third date, when lips felt right
then we drove a hundred miles down to south santa fe
passed the gas station where my last lover lay
his stomach left a stain on the sidewalk
i loved him once and now we don’t even talk
you tried to grab the clutch but instead touched my knee
blushing, you sat like cancer beside me
you grew at an alarming rate
wiped your lip and chewed on lace
fingers drew hearts on your foggy window
you promised if i left that you’d never let me go
i swore i wouldn’t fall, so i laid on the floor
hudson eyes stared at the picture hanging above your door
you asked to catch the bends inside of me
sink and drown, *** is fun if you just promise to leave

they found your parent’s home address tattooed on your inner thigh
and picked you up at a quarter-to-five
the ****** bourbon was dancing in your bloodstream
so you called from prison and asked if you could see me
i said not tonight, the moon is full
you wrapped my arms around your neck and began to pull
my throat is not the ocean and your tide is not the sea
i never said i loved you, so please forget about me

if the ambulance was big enough for the both of us
if the ambulance was big enough for the both of us
we’d waste our nights walking around downtown
the blue and red would stain our skin
satin lips pressed onto each others tongues
i could have been someone
if the ambulance was big enough for the both of us

and i remember screaming in the passenger seat of your parents car
the street lamps on the culdesac spinning through the moonroof
the mirrors flashed bulbs in my eyes
inches from the curb you dropped me off then wished me good night
i walked past my mothers room
still dizzy from your driving
and blinded by the lights
and she quietly asked, 'did he kiss you?'
i lied and blushed a ‘no’
‘at least he was kind enough to drive you home’

at 8 am i am thinking of you
i’m looking at my hands dance across the keyboard remembering how i reached out and touched your face in the dark, and my hands danced in a similar way, touching your lips because i need to remember them exactly as they are, for when i'm riding a train across the english countryside, or when i’m moved back in with my parents and i can’t sleep at night
or when i’m doing laundry, you know, those mundane things that would be a lot more beautiful
if i could just reach out and touch your lips, your face
and two thousand miles can’t do much about that, now can they?
so i drive 20 minutes each direction thinking i’m 20 minutes closer
or further away than when i woke up today.
i don’t think you think of distance the way i do
but distance and your lips are the most beautiful thing i have right now
so i’ll fancy them all i want.
i’ll fancy them all i want.

last night i drank an entire bottle of wine
and fell asleep before i could even make it out the door
woke up face down in the middle of my room
and my clothes are in trashbags, piled in the corner
and i’m listening to ella fitzgerald and shes singing about you
i swear to god she’s singing about you
and i havent watered my plants in a while
but the neighbors promised to make it rain once a week
and i’m looking up mood ring charts so i can tell you how i feel
how should i feel?
when i’m leaving you behind

we act like an old married couple
who still feel butterflies when they kiss
and when i made love to you
i wished we could’ve done it again and again
i am daydreaming so horribly it seems
i passed by my street twice today
pulled in my driveway
my lips are red and so are my insides
you have blessed both

i'm making fish sticks in the kitchen drinking a blue moon
thinking about how i sat gracefully, weightless on your back while you laid there shirtless and i squeezed every knot out of you
like wringing a bleached towel out
and you
switched, sitting on top of me rubbing that sweet ******* anthropologie scent into my skin
and i told you what i wanted for christmas  and you apologized for getting cheeto dust on my down comforter
and we'll drive halfway across the country just to find ourselves in it
and you apologized for doing coke
and i apologized for not caring
and you held my face between your hands like some kind of heart shaped pebble you found on the beach
and i was glowing
and you let me scratch at you with needles and i was glowing
but i don't love you, and i don't think i could

i have an image in my mind and its of your lips,
reflecting every window in this room
and the sweetest color pink is filling my frame
and my god i promise you, i promise that i love you
and everything that you haphhazardly ruin
and i dont need to tell you
i never did

but it will sit in my lap until you come home
and those pink lips are on the inside of my thighs
and eventually my red angel bows will be kissing you back
OH HOW I MISSED YOU!
and my nails will dig into your back
and our tongues will taste like cherry cough drops and vaseline eyes dripping along with our clothes
we will make love
we will fall in love even though the timing might be off
it’s okay
so will our clothes

and when we have to say goodbye the morning after
we will sigh and say until ‘until next time’
until next time when i see you in another country
and you’ll plant your lips in another nape of my neck and i’ll itch at my scabs until they bleed and we’ll both admire the scuffs on our knees because bowing down to eachother has never felt so right

and when we met, i knew.

i wanted to say
   ‘i have finally, finally found you’

nothing sweeter than a kiss on the cheek
on the eve of the night you decided to leave
its been two years now, isn’t that beautiful
isn’t that beautiful to see how
we’ve grown into little beings
who cry every once and a while
well i wake up in the middle of the night
and the neighbor is hammering, its alright
he’s not the one who peeked in on us
making love for the first time
panting like poets who forgot how to rhyme
it was the first and now its my last
you are my future my present and my god,
my past

like a walk of shame
except i'm beautiful and proud
and the fall weather got here last night
unpacked it's bags but forgot to paint the leaves
and i'm walking and there's nothing shameful about anything i did
and alleyways look beautiful too
in their own way
and i'll skip breakfast because i'm still drunk
and i'm still in love
and my shadow looks a bit taller than i do
i left my underwear behind
lace crumbled in the floor
REMEMBER ME
i stole somebody's mcdonald's
and ate it in the street corner
did i leave my cardigan at yours?
see you tomorrow
making latte art hungover in some beautiful knock off paris store
and i asked you, politely, to leave the mess outside
and you never saw that butterfly temporary tattoo on my chest
everything is temporary
because you didn't even bother to get me undressed
but you left your mark on my neck
thanks for that
just know you're not the only one who i made eyes with last night
i kissed a few on the lips
you aren't the only boy who fancied in my *** perfume
at least you walked me home
it was five am but at least you walked me home
and your dorm room wasn't big enough for how wide my legs were but this dress was tight and you bruised my thigh
or that might've been the other boy who threw me into the dark corner and i fell to the floor as he fell into me
but my hair is long enough to cover this hickey
and i'll take a sip of your coke and whiskey
i listen to that boys song and laugh on my way to work
and the shins are playing in starbucks
and i wouldn't mind if just for a second
i could pretend to die

this is a room you haven't slept in yet,

and this skin has grown since i last saw you-
replaced itself

and the distant, but warm
blood that you tasted on my cheek the last time you kissed it
has since made its way through each vein and left-
replaced itself

and the smell of my shoulder,
gently rested beneath your chin
i've since changed my laundry detergent

and i've stitched the holes in my jacket
your finger used to trace each one
but i replaced each fray with new thread-
and i sleep with new dreams clouding my head

and my framed portrait of you fell to the floor
i replaced the glass, the image

but i still find you in laundry detergent and broken glass,
sleepless nights, skin cells mixed with blood

i tried
but god ******
i cannot replace you

you'll leave in a few days-
you’ll do it without saying goodbye
and i’ll remember that portrait of you when you were 5
you have the same ******* look in your eyes

gracefully breaking hearts is where you find your art
i’m glad i stirred up some lyrics in you
sing to girls who beg to know
but ****, i at least deserve to watch you go

they tell me to drive north
i’ll spend every last dollar on a tank of gas
but i made the mistake of telling you
when i should have asked

instead burn your letter and finally settle
and when you board that eight hour train through the sky
i hope you think of me,
and how it hurt too much to say goodbye

after a drunken fifteen minute walk home
you discovered me in my bed
like dinosaur bones
dusted off the feathers and white house paint
we made love after two years
‘my god you’re a saint’
you tasted and felt as good as i’ve dreamed
your name on my breath,
you ripped all of my seams
morning light and we talked about being sad
put my hair behind my ear,
'sometimes loneliness isn’t that bad'
i don’t know if it will happen again
but i’m not ready to let our sweet rendezvous end

the kiss goodbye landed on my cheek -  
the symphonic "door is ajar" chime, softly, in the key of C

i can't write when i'm sick lonely lost and lovely thinking of you
fading into my sheets for the whole day and the sun was too bright on my face
and i'll eat donuts until the flu decides to say goodbye, farewell
and i'll choke up powdered sugar dancing on the stairwell
singing songs about loving you
i don't think i needed to say it
i think you already knew
a portrait of your mother behind my swollen eyes
does she know we spent the night living between each others thighs
we walk with bottles between our fingers
dipping our toes in cold water
the bridge lights up, the reflection is its daughter

is it alright?
would you be okay?
if i finally told you
what i think i need to say

is it okay?
would it be alright?
if staying meant missing my departing flight

would you mind?
if i boldly confessed
the words that have been buried
in this cavernous chest

if its not spoken, let it be read
i wish you didn’t exist
beautifully, but only in my head

does it hurt to hear it?
it hurts to say
‘i love you, darling’
escaped in a midnight whisper and tragically flew away

i'll take the long way home
and cry, tears floating like dust out of the window
and i won't act surprised when your name is plastered on some sign in the middle of nowhere
because you're not a coincidence and when september starts playing i'll just blame it on my palm being read
like a prophecy, this happened like some kind of map of the stars
the way we slept under them and the way you held me slowly then all at once
and apologized for loving me slowly, then all at once
because him and i, we had our time
and the stars don't love him
he was a virgo and you
youre a sign on the side of the road and i miss you more than him
i miss you more than him now

i tried to love you last night
with whiskey, whiskey
but you've left, gone west
the morning after, the morning after

its romantic how we get each other through a thursday night
its sad how you’ll never see that smudge of red lipstick just below my lip
misplaced, you would have said, beautifully misplaced
and i’ll ask which film is lighting up your face

it is ladies night, it is free well-drinks
and so i start every order with ‘well,’ and a sigh
and i tip the bartender with daisies
i never was good with money, flowers are a currency

and you find some kind of eloquent word to describe me walking home alone
beautiful, endearing, and you forget to mention that its unsafe
“you should have some company”
and i forget to mention that i wish it was you

so instead i laugh and swoon on the phone with a former lover
taking a break every so often
send a text that i’m still eloquently walking,
my heels writing love letters to you

take it east
where the girls all sleep with monograms stitched onto their pillows
and to the south where loving requires a ring
and i’m draped across my bed, naked, breathless
you’re here, you’re here, in the east, in the south
and i let you live inside of me for one night

so i’m folding my naked, once pure, body in half
asking for refunds for the morning afters-
when you didn’t take me to breakfast
or even kiss me, my forehead, my wrist

you only love me at night with whiskey
whiskey breath and whiskey ****
the morning after, the morning after

to write a poem without haste
to sew your name into my pillowcase
foolish girls should walk home alone
sleeping in beds too clean to call their own

i’d swoon and dance on the curb where you wait
your head between my wrists, i’ve loved you for days
neon signs paint us purple as we make ****** bets
your words too shallow to pay off your debts

denim waistlines straddling a sad boy in the day
black lace on the floor arranged for the love we made
fall asleep in the passengers seat until noon
never eager to leave me, always leaving too soon