MS Lynch

MS Lynch Mar 2014

Babe

A strange mixture of lust and childlike adoration hits me like a ******* truck when I look at you. The way you make me throw my head back and laugh, the way you say my name. Just the way you ******* are, oh God, I can't stop smiling. Last year, you kissed my forehead and said you never wanted to see me cry. This year, you kissed me, hard and slow, and everything stopped spinning. I denied it for the longest time, but, I really think I love you. It's too bad that time and distance are going to break my heart.

MS Lynch Mar 2014

Naive

All I see is silver linings and it often leaves me burned, but my eyes still search for glimmering when my sight returns. I think the reason I always only see the good is because I have so much darkness chasing me. I run after the light to avoid being swallowed by all the black that creeps and crawls like an eternal tide, an all-consuming pain. Because when Daddy holds a beer, I start to cry, because I think of all the times it made him hurt, hurt, hurt us. And when I feel it all spiraling down, and feel myself spiraling down, I remember the year I was eighteen and how much I always hurt, hurt, hurt. I push it all backwards into oblivion, and shut the door, and hope it doesn’t burst open. All I want to do is love and when I run after the light, I can pretend the darkness is gone, and was never there at all. I’m okay, I’m really okay, in fact, I’m truly happy. I have never felt so sure of my own soul. I feel in sync with the universe, but have no idea where I'm going. March is magical and its pixie-dust is soaking through my skin and into my blood. I am breathing deeply and exhaling it all. But when I tell myself that an open heart never hurt anyone, I remember that it hurt me.

MS Lynch Feb 2014

Overly Complicated

They all have such pretty minds,
And long hair, and pretty eyes,
But I hold you in the back of my heart,
And I think when you love someone,
I'm in the back of your mind.
They don't know the way your fingers
Grasped my hips, so in love.
You give them your lust, they give you their all.
You walk away so easily, because you find love too hard.
Did I teach you things had to be that way?
When people ask me if I still love you,
I smile and drink my wine,
Smudging the glass with lipstick,
Because anybody who has to ask that question,
Has never been in love.

MS Lynch Feb 2014

We Are Everything

It hurts how far away we are from who we were together.
Like souls inverted, fused by magic, and then pulled apart.
Stretched across the universe by rough hands larger than anything; calloused fingers that whisper “I know what is best for you.”
If time is in distance in the great big universe, maybe someday we’ll soar so far
that we will find each other.
In wrinkles or in recklessness, I hope your lips meet mine again,
with the epiphany of what real loving is.
Everyday I see you in the smallest details, wrapped in tiny envelopes and parcels all from Fate.
Reading the signs is like reading your soul, in pieces that make you feel the world all at once.
I am so uncomfortably aware of how small I am
within this Creation that holds our habitable speck,
which only proves to me that something so great deserves to exist on it.
And if we are not destined to create a glory for our histories, I hope we meet as friends and lovers, and different stars in different worlds, and souls who seem to know each other
but do not understand why.
In past lives, I know you held my hand. In future ones, I hope you will. In present, I am always wishing you were around so our fingers could intertwine;
like our paths, always intersecting in this mysterious void filled with so much magic.
I am not certain how the world turns or why we grow or where we truly are, but I am certain you will always be my heart, a microscopic ***** in a sea of billions of stars.
I love you like the way the Universe is, always expanding and forever flowing through time.

MS Lynch Jan 2014

Pensitivity

Van Gogh was probably crazy, because most good artists are.
Plants are green because they absorb every color of light except for green.
It’s funny how the moment you tell someone you love them, it sets you both free.
People are afraid of bees, who die right after they sting you.
Van Gogh drank yellow paint because he thought it would make him happy.
And I can understand because I wish I had a yellow heart, too.
Maybe we are plants because it seems those who live the saddest lives are the happiest souls.
And I’ve lived a really hard life but my soul is on fire with love for every moment.
Love is a lot like anger, because it usually takes just one person hostage.
But maybe it’s sort of beautiful how only getting those words off
my chest made you stop showing up in my dreams.
I’m allergic to bee stings and I got stung by the Queen four times at the beach.
But maybe she felt like she was taking a bullet for someone she loved; herself.
It’s hard to wrap my brain around this planet that’s always spinning,
because my fingers are always slipping and my heart beats out of my chest,
dropping into my stomach and causing nervous butterflies.
But maybe it doesn't matter how tight of a grip I can stick onto the Earth,
but, instead, how gracefully I can let it go.
I wish I was still your yellow paint.

MS Lynch Jan 2014

Cosmostardust

The stars crash down onto
my aching heart
trying to turn this diamond into coal,
Fool's Gold.
Always pushing to bury me six feet under
my own doubt and my insecurity.
But my brain's brighter than
any great big ball of gas,
just waiting in the universe just to explode. And die.
Maybe my heart is a little bit
stronger than a diamond, anyway.
Maybe I'll be more than okay.
I'm going to be
greater than the galaxies,
prettier than the perfect dreams,
and more full of fate and love than
the cosmos could ever hope to be.
I am my own star-tracked trek,
I am made of stardust and
I'm going burst and set the world on fire.

MS Lynch Jan 2014

White

You are white like a bone;
And also an eggshell.
You write in permanent marker,
But your letters make you cry.
You are a key that opens anything
But crumbles with rust and time.
And you sing in the shower
But when someone catches you,
You shut up silent, mouth sewn closed.
You come in tides like the ocean,
But you are scared of the sea,
Even though you are a wave always crashing into me.
You are a bone and an eggshell;
white ambiguity, wrapped into one.