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Oct 2015 · 683
2br apartment listings
bri mylyn Oct 2015
you make me melancholy

you are here and you are whole
my initials are printed on your cellophane skin
you paid to have someone else mark you to say
"this is the last time"
"this is my home"

you have made me into a saddened poet
and nearly a mother
our names used to run together justlikethis
now they are separate creatures
ensnared to each other by &
and that is better
we appear at parties, an institution
wedding guests in patchy blazer
and swollen dress
people take photographs of us
i hope someday to see them captioned
by someone who never dwelt in that moment with us

you are thinner this time around
more delicate, i worry someday i will cling so tightly in need of you that you rust beneath my fingers
like i sent you around a carousel and you came back astride a horse and in an ill-fitting suit
longer hair, thinner face, fuller beard
sunken eyes
i made you into a watery corpse
and i'm sorry

i lie on my side and bite sea green glass bottles
think about the child i'll bear you
suffocate and cannot dream
i cry tears of frankincense and battle the dead inside me
calling for me to join them for a day
boy, pray for my life

i can be cold and altruistic
and all i want to do is pen songs
that is fine with you
you have become a mortician now
in dress, in manner, in aspiration

i missed you terribly
i know i am incessant
you stumbled through a curtain and onto my doorstep
i welcomed you with flat palms and clenched teeth
i love you
and i'm sorry i smoked you out the first time around

i told you in a rainy place we've been before
we took it as a sign but i'd already made my mind up
when we lay sunken in my floor, and i breathed with you without hesitation
**** it, why'd i ever let them take you away from me
i'm sorry, friend

we blew kisses to our stars and now i'm making you a father after all your friends
in your veiny hands you'll hold our only child
i'm so sorry for what i did, and what i'm bound to do
you'll be back soon, i miss your sunken cheeks and the way you say goodbye
i need to rest my bones, you make bitterness taste like home
Jul 2015 · 644
blue plate special
bri mylyn Jul 2015
i wasn't a bad person
until i woke up one morning
and decided to make all the choices i wanted to
instead of the ones that would keep me afloat

there's not enough time or change in the world
for me to recount every good story
every song i liked, every window you rolled down
every wrong turn
the kiss on my cheek

all i listen to these days is your sleepy breathing
and a cassette tape that fell behind the passenger seat
"cut me open, we didn't bring rain jackets"
i am small, this seat with the stuffing coming out is my throne
we end up in a diner, i order the blue plate special
your hand is on my knee, the coffee is hot
every gas station looks the same
might as well just never go home
we have too much to talk about

friends & lovers, it all blurs together
cellophane over my eyes, i can't see a thing
can't see anything wrong with this.
taste america, the deep south where i grew up
taste you, fill up my cup, it isn't enough

the sun is a burden, night driving is free
the phone rings and we deny it three times
she's on the other end, yeah?
wants to know where your heart lies, yeah?
one foot in the door pretend like it's okay as long as we don't lock it
if she asks we can still say no we didn't, yeah?

i watch you throw away motel receipts on the last day
pack everything up, avoid questions that haven't been asked yet
the same songs come on but they sound louder, sharper
i am anxious
we go to the same diner, i order the blue plate special
my knees are cold. the coffee is too hot. i can't stand it.
home is a metallic taste in my mouth
i pledged my wandering heart to someone who doesn't have enough space left in his suitcase
Jun 2015 · 502
dreams i can't stop having
bri mylyn Jun 2015
a list of things i keep having dreams about:

1. underwater. not drowning, but free to pull my head up towards the white, bubbling sunlight. my head pushes through but then it is night and i am in the lake, weighed down by white dress. men put hands on my shoulders, words murmured in rapid prayer. i am baptized but there is blood on my hands. and then those hands join with others and we dance around flame, murmuring together. we are are all arriving we are all arriving we are all arriving. i did not believe in dancing but i dance among the pagans and the black trees look like obsidian knives, jagged, pointing towards lady moonlight. and my face is aflame and my mother says my grandmother spins in her grave each time i pray to a god who is not of abraham but then i realize that i have become my own god and i pray only to myself. and then i am the one spinning and spinning and then i am the water again but it is deep blue like melted velvet and now hands do not pull me up do not pray for me they push down and this time i am drowning.

2. we are lying in bed. my sheets have little roses on them and the lamplight is warm and forgiving and i am in satin and you are in nothing and we kiss and touching you feels good again. and i sing Dylan to you and i guard you with my own heart. and my feet rest in swimming pools that reflect me into you and suddenly there is no me and no you there is just dimness and an airy room where you are showing me such love and tenderness with your lovely blood and bones and i clutch my necklace and wonder what this would feel like if it were a cross instead of a moon. i cry because this was all that i had left because i feel thirteen again like it's the first time i said i would wait until i had a husband and so that's why i say i will marry you yes my love yes because we must atone we must always. atone.

3. barefoot. running. muddy dress, american forest, it smells like home only different. smokier, damper, sadder. gunshot. i slip behind the reddish brown trunk of one of the giants living in the woods and breathe. breathe. scream. hands around my stomach, pull and tear, drag along wet red clay. barefoot. my dress is red and my face is red and my hair is a dark night sky for a single moon. they chant. **** the witch **** the witch **** the witch **** the witch. i was buried in a churchyard. i wake up feeling thirsty and needing to check my voicemail.

4. a thousand mirrors. like versailles, only not. my hands on your lapels. you are seven feet tall and you love me. your hair is wild and i am an enchantress in lavender. we dance to piano and mournful horn, a thousand miles away. i am two inches tall, but you love me like i am the new moon.
Apr 2015 · 460
devil's dance
bri mylyn Apr 2015
there are neon lights tonight
at the edge of town
and i was sleeping in bed
with the lights on

pale yellow against paper skin
hiding in caves, counting crystals and gems
and finally i walk out into cold violet twilight
with bare feet and the wind in my hair

every time i think i've forgotten about you
you come back to me
in a flash of candlelight
that stirs my soul

while i sit here taking notes, buying tickets
i remember the way your nose felt pressed against my shoulder
the smell of your coat when you'd come home
and i hugged you in the hallway, a sprite in stocking feet

nights stayed up laughing. my head thrown back against the pillow
listening to soft ***** music and tambourine
frustratingly happy to call you mine

a dozen dances, a handful of weddings attended
side by side, a pair of foxes in moonlight
rolled up sleeves, champagne cocktails
rowboats and stumbling feet, each kiss like white sugar on my tongue

your unshaven face meeting my cheek
the wild, moon-kissed look in your eye
you'd give me when everything was quiet
before reaching for me, your hands as open as the endless sea

i loved you every night of my youth
but i'm trying to move past all of that
fix my hair, drink my tea
fight against every thought that wraps around my head
like brown, thorny vine

you pick and scratch at my mind
all the time
even though you're not here
i feel like i danced with the devil too long
and now he thinks that he's my friend

why else would i be clawing out of bed
so i can stop dreaming about your sleepy kiss
love heartbreak
Feb 2015 · 1.4k
calypso
bri mylyn Feb 2015
friday night and i'm drowning
sweating and struggling to find the right air for my lungs
you look straight through me

and i feel like calypso
but you pulled at me with blue-veined hands
through white sand and concrete
and this is where i leave you
lips bleeding, your only loyalty to blue velvet sky

we outgrew the fort where we played lovers
still sitting inside, our heads bumping against the ceiling
plates and forks too small
and every time the clock ticks to five i think of you
striding through that door like a giant in a house of fine things

once we thought we wanted to be the greatest
and then we settled for something a few stories down
stopped wishing for skating across wood floors in socks
stopped planting lace for flowers and a sunday preacher
instead we settled for cold dinners and dead peonies in teacups

clutching pillow, laughing
turn the sound off and it looks like i'm screaming
and you're screaming too but for completely different reasons
by lamplight on creaky bed frame with a lone car zooming into the skylight

you were my moon&sun;&stars;
and for you i was the person who knew how to put your stars into constellations
i was a drowning mermaid
something seeming impossible but dangerously real at dawn's light
hands poking through teal-grey surf, clawing clawing

you stepped back and looked down, horrified and delighted
and i stopped being a mermaid and became a gold necklace
a hand adjusting that gold necklace, cool to touch on the nape
with my art school hair and sideways monday never smile

i fought through hell for you
i went through screaming at the top of my lungs
and came out on the other side, trailed by hideous, dark things

i sat on the sand
looking at the gold in my hand and thinking about how it looked bigger the last time i saw it

tonight i died
yesterday is a pebble crushed under my heel
but in time i will rise and fly backwards
swallowing deadly creatures whole, olive eyed and free
drinking rose petals and milk and bursting through brick

ashes become wind and wind blows through hollow tree
i will love again
but this time it will be me
Feb 2015 · 828
our bedroom
bri mylyn Feb 2015
there are three blood stains on our sheets
in the shape of various european countries
and there is a dying white rose you bought me
last tuesday when i called in sick

it sits on the dresser, strangled by baby's breath
a single window, broken blinds
shoes tripped over every morning

when you stumble out of bed to go to class
and i stay and bask in the glow of your empty space in the mattress
wood floor scratched by broken glass
tubes of lipstick half-melted in august sun

the tv where we turned on carrie on a sticky summer night
and lay on top of the sheets
and couldn't remember how it ended

this is the room where i fell in love with you
Feb 2015 · 536
wednesday
bri mylyn Feb 2015
my Bad Days come in capital letters
starting with mornings overslept
and greasy, greasy hair
red lights glaring through the fog

and punctuated by sneaking feelings
creeping through damp underbrush
peering out and launching onto ankles

self-doubt. anxiety. fear.
two a.m. feelings striking at a quarter to nine in the morning.
i am having an existential crisis in math class.
blue marker on white board and all i can think about is
why was i put on this great green world

  and how
there are tiny organisms that could fit in my eye
and we don't know what the bottom of the sea looks like
and the first person i ever loved was a capricorn

in the morning i stumble out of gray sheets
crawl along cold tile and count four little orange pills
so that today maybe today
i won't wonder why i was made a person and not a river

some days i wake up
and the sky is tinged with blue and pink
my heart makes sounds of sweet muses

those days are not good
they are average

but i do not feel average
i feel good.
Jul 2014 · 769
Soliloquy for Samson
bri mylyn Jul 2014
every time I hear church bells I'll think of you
for the rest of my life
as long as someone has hands to ring them

remember how you fell in love with me, samson
and you knew what pandora felt like when she opened up the top
and let all the evil come dripping out into the world.

but pandora was afraid.
you laughed.

you kissed me and my chest became a hurricane
and we'd stand waist deep in rumbling seas
with your lips trying to pull another storm out of mine

I was in your house and on your floor
the holiest thing I have ever done
you gave me my first sips of red wine while you held the cup to my lips

I touched my stained mouth and you laughed
you sounded like a lion and that thought brings joy to the pit of my belly
you clothed me in pure lace, your hand at my back, hip to hip
I decided to make you my wine glass and fill you with the sweetness I fell in love with then

samson, remember when you reached inside of me
and pulled out a feeling I forgot that I knew about
spiritual awakening
words from Genesis

I can't sleep in my bed anymore, samson
because when I close my eyes I see all the stars you bought me
all the stars we named after all the children we'll never have

every crinkle by your eyes
adds to my life line
so I'll never let anyone
read my palms again

my love, I've aged you
my love, when you turn to dust,
I'll have the taste of sweet wine and an empty altar
and the memory of a hundred stars
and a thousand hurricanes
Jul 2014 · 1.2k
funeral parlor
bri mylyn Jul 2014
twenty nine steps on a staircase
lavender smell on the softness of your neck
broken bonds broken bones broken bonds broken bones
I wrapped your nightshade bouquet in lace
so it would not burn your frozen fingers

I open my mouth and stained glass falls out
twenty nine steps on a staircase

they pulled your teeth out with forks
while I screamed through the satin
and fought through the stars
I reached out towards you
but my hands grabbed only thorns
and calamity dripped down my hands
twenty nine steps on a staircase

they threw grey dirt on my face
grass and blossoms in my lungs
my fingernails are blue and blue for you
twenty nine steps on a staircase
my eyes are moist with drops of dew
every morning I wake up and drown in your sweet water

29 steps on a staircase
29 steps on a staircase

I was sleeping and woke up choking
I opened my mouth
and eleven pearls came tumbling out
they sat in the palm of my hand
they were your wishes
I put them under my pillow
and forgot they were there

twenty nine steps on a staircase
I pushed you down twenty nine steps on a staircase
bri mylyn Jun 2014
they told me about you
while I was sleeping

when I came to you
soft, with a stomach full of tea
and hands in patent leather purse
and eyes to the ground, always

and you were surprised
because your righteous heart
would not let your gentle hands
follow through

and I pressed one cheek to the cold floor
and whispered my satin-lined prayer
to please please please please
let my heart be free from your hand

but I washed your face
and your clothes
and kissed your cheek
and your hand

and I suddenly didn't have to navigate
through a maze of broken branches
to see your hand in mine
and your lips on my shoulder

while you're filling in between the lines
and I'll take off your glasses
and kiss the crinkles by your eyes

but sometimes I feel like every wrinkle was caused by me
every gray hair came from me
because I heard about you
while I was sleeping

I had a nightmare
that your former fiance from Rhode Island
showed up at my door

I had a nightmare
I could feel the lies
pouring out from behind my pupils

my hands would be drowning
trying to put out every fire
we started together

but sometimes I think I forget
that your heart is in my palm too
and that we locked ourselves together

in the quietest room
in the smallest place
because you are mine
and sweetheart, oh sweetheart, I am yours
Mar 2014 · 1.0k
blackberries
bri mylyn Mar 2014
who let you in
who let you back
where've you been

you used to sit around
with your feet in the weeds
I used to love you
now you're on my hands

you left me for brighter stars
parties with nothing to do
I'd look away
I wanna be around people like you

I don't think I mind if you don't
you sat in the blackberries
now you have briers at your throat

I built my shadow up from dirt
so you'd know where I'm from
if I fell and kissed the ground
at least I know you'd still come

I like to sit and wait around
for what you want and what you do
I'm the thorn in your finger
I wanna be with people like you

you stood out on the porch
you let your lungs go wild
I don't eat the fruit since you left
because you're the prodigal child

if you wanna be replaced
you can
if you wanna be replaced
you can
if you wanna be replaced
you can
Mar 2014 · 2.7k
for girls who love angry men
bri mylyn Mar 2014
you love him
you love his smooth hands and his rough cheek
you love your hands in his denim shirt
and the cinematography of you together
everything else is an afterthought

the knife in his eyes that is not always pointed at you
but when it is
you kiss the fist that rattles plates
the lips that wrap around clenched teeth
melt him

fail to understand his poison tipped arrows
that are aimed at the mother who threw bottles
if he could only pick one more fight it'd be with his father
you kiss him when he knocks his brother's teeth out

he leaves in the morning for coffee and comes back a day later
welcome him with open arms and abundant questions
he will be a tower of irritation and concrete
he will point fingers that will curl into fists
but they are not fists for you
they are for the devils that dance within him
and behind his wild eyes
and in his childhood home

you will not be fooled
he loves you
you know by every sweetheart and the lips on your forehead and the way he smells in between the sheets each night

he leaves
he comes back
purple flowers that bloom around his eyes are the bouquets he brings home for you
the front porch sags when he puts his hands in his pockets
his face buried in your chest
on nights when the lamp swings a little too low
and his body is wracked with sobbing and shoulders shaking

he mourns the gentle temper he never had
he mourns what he would be like without you
he mourns what you would be like without him
this is how he loves you

your hands in his hair easing soothing shh shh
you are the mother who left
you are better than every last ex-girlfriend
for reasons he will be happy to name
this is how you love him

you came because you are drawn to the shipwrecks
but you stayed in the water for him
ancient child
furious soul
you salt his wounds
and then you clean them
this is how you love him

— The End —