Kirsten Martin

Kirsten Martin Oct 2012

My thoughts will twist your words until they say what you don't mean,
To say,
That you sound mean, that you don't mean until they say,
The words,
To me they twist.

Kirsten Martin Jun 2012

One Day

One day, soon...
I will drive off that overpass,
Just to prove that I could.

Kirsten Martin May 2012

Sink

I smell the ocean.
I feel it cool my skin,
Baking in the sun,
Or from your stare.

My hand parts from yours,
And travels west to meet the sand
That melts golden, molten,
Through the cracks in my fingers.

Thoughts now flow to the back of my mind...
Where they will crash onto hot rocks,
And sizzle, steam away.

Kirsten Martin May 2012

Dubstep, It's a Lifestyle, Why?

Who else felt the night coming off the tracks,
When we first stepped into that crowded, 1 bedroom apartment,
For the 21st birthday of a guy we knew (his friends, we didn't)?

Strangers derailed and built up drunken tension.
That settled once he found the smoke,
You found the beer,
And I brought the ***.

I know my regrets.
But do you still enjoy the white line you crossed...
Off the counter top,
Before we left for IHop?

You hit me, held my hand, and made me promise in the stall,
(where I held your hair just last week)
That I won't tell.

I won't.

We loaded up in the car to go back,
But got stopped along the way.

Two pipes, one baggie, and an open container later...
Maybe birthday boy became a man,
Sometime between when he got cuffed...
And when he apologized.

Was it just me or....
Were the State Troopers cutest when they lined us girls up,
Looked at us,
And let us go?

Just in time for Mother's Day.

... Oh, and we went to Walmart at some point.

Kirsten Martin Apr 2012

Swallow, Sparrow.

Uneasy, queezy, no breezy feeling,
On currents that carry you home.

Settle, Swallow.
Love him, Sparrow.

A nest shouldn't be so cold.

I am his peach. Plump, plucked, ripe for him. He'll eat me up... While I dream of a fruit of my own. Dark hair. Damp cave.

Kirsten Martin Mar 2012

14 Years

If you do not leave my bed,
I will not leave your side.
Just stay,
Please, please, please...
Just stay.

You've always been here,
And now they say you're leaving.

No.

No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.
p.s. Not really a poem, more of an explanation for why I won't be on the site for a while. Probably. Sorry.

Kirsten Martin Feb 2012

Maybe It's Part of Being a Poet...

My mind keeps deceiving me,
Convincing me to believe,
That there is something more,
Than what there is.

It wants, more than anything, to keep dreaming.
I want, more than anything, to wake up.

Maybe it's part of growing up.