Hands trembling
and I don't know how

To s
      p
       e
        a
         k
anymore

Watch me tumble, feed me ravens and nonsense

I know not what these feelings are
And the dance has stopped in my head, couples left standing
How to explain when the song ends?

What are these words for if
They don't help?

Words unsaid, songs unsung
These poems slip through my fingers
Like stubborn sand that I can't bottle, I stare into eyes the colour of the sun
And I'm frozen

What words do I have left?

The summer air leaves me shaking
And with only constellations for company,
I sit and I navigate through my
Red threads, tracing back

Mathematical simplicity,
I add and subtract emotions
Leading the wreck into cold waters
To give myself time to breathe

My toes tremble under water
I've forgotten how to swim,
Clinging to the sides of my own body
I wonder if there's life beyond these walls

Poetry seems to have deserted me
All words have been read before
Do not lead me into shallow waters
With promises of winds

The sky is full and I want to drown

the curve of your lips
softly turning against your skin
and the soft light of early summer
against gold eyes so translucent
they call me and

it makes me want to lose myself

memory of touches, the way my lips
throb by just the thought of your
fingers on them

your lips on mine is a thought that is
chemical, creates butterflies

your eyes have a gravitational pull
and here i am, barely holding on
**** of war without meaning to resist

your fingers trace my arm and
you say you left with my scent on you

my fingers trace the edges and
my rhythm is to the sound of your
sighs on my ear

gently, wet and slippery
feeling the sound of drums from your chest
i slip and lose myself inside you

bambi eyes, perfectly round and
just filled to the brim with innocence
you say -
please just **** me
when i look at you

if you

i. call

i will use the phone
like the proverbial apple and
see how it stands against
gravity, seven floors and concrete

i will pretend it's your head
and aim for the stars

ii. text

i can write words so wicked
and i can recite poetry so vile
you'll wonder if there was ever a day
in which you indeed called me
your friend

remember, my memory is far better
and my cruelty is far more constant
than yours ever was

iii. visit

i believe in paying kindness with kindness
and the philosophy applies to every other
act of self appeasement
i know your home address
i might not climb but the pavement
by your windows are full of loose stones

i also believe my aim is righteous
when my heart is true

iv. speak

your tongue, so lean and practiced
your eyes, coveting what is not yours
your hands, wondering loosely

i would have them all and use them
to remind you that the kingdom
was never yours

v. persist

hell hath no fury
like a vindictive woman

it rests on your eyes, like glass
they follow me around or sit
on the table and there's this
heart wrenching silence in your words

please, don't

barely washed, strings in careless
lumps at the top of your head,
like a crown of grease and wax

you sit nervously, you play with your
shoes and you look at me as if the
sun rises on my mouth and sets
on my *** and oh boy i sigh

you gave all so carelessly and i took it

only to give it back, words that lit up
the night sky of early summer like
fairy lights and perhaps that is all i am

your body is frail
your eyes wide and
round
and i do not care

it pains me not to answer but
mostly that i should
we said friends but i meant
the type that never writes and never calls

i want no responsibility
i've already broken your silly heart

it is the pinning
the sweet anticipation
one more word will solve the
silence that grows between us

i am sure you think of me during
these hours, at least as little as i try
to think of you in your absence

it is the pinning
that pushes me away, every word
i reply with some impatience
(disdain)

and i wonder if you feel the same
for me as i feel for him

when his words fall on my lap
and i wonder why him
and not you

it leaves the taste of wrath
on my tongue, careless words
poignant with lust

for someone else

look at it and weep
i say, setting the bait and
you rise to the occasion

french pours out of your tongue
the way english does from mine
and it melts together into keats

we enter the realm of quick fingers
and one minute to think of a clever reply

and you call me la belle dame sans merci
leaving me wondering
if you do think i'm beautiful

Longest standing –
Missing the train,
The car, the chances.
The security of sterile hopes,
The breaking of the blood molds.
We are made of flawed glass,
Of cringed sand and timeless
Brass.

oh won't you look at that?

(don'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlook)

another sting that hurts in that place
i've already tried to convince myself that
doesn't hurt because it shouldn't hurt, it
wouldn't hurt if i wasn't such a liar.

It’s the quiet, quiet  light that makes me despair
Interesting, your eyes they seem to stare.
And – no.
You don’t love me.

there's a car not drifting by, there's a voice
not being heard.
there are steps not being taken
outside on the dark street,
but then again that might just be me.
as the silence fills in, i try to inaugurate new ways
to neglect that it has even been here,
has ever loomed over my soul
(i pretend
and fail to accomplish, but the mission is just too
difficult for my childish hands).
and i read over all the things i have already read
tonight, as if the answer for my prayers could be found
in the words of mortals, because if they are, i have
yet to find
proof

that one day, oh maybe for one fleeting second
you ever thought i might just be
the answer to your calls and quests, the ideal
of something that no one can ever quite match,
the epitome of the longing imaginarium that you
carry inside, like the rest of us, just flesh and blood
mortals, the one vision, incubus of ambiguous substance
that your heart can't deny itself.
call it noble, call it gallant, but love has never
interest me.
the songs it sings, the blood is rushes, the
the hearts it steals, the dreams it envisions
are just a new form of  destroying whatever
rationally brings.
must we forever suffer this burning *****,
with such bittersweet ache?

With all of the things that I have learned,
I intend to not use them until I am old.

I will try to let experience not run me down, try
And make misery stay underground, by the roots
That I am trying to escape, through memories that
My heart conceals so I am never too late to see,
To touch, to catch all the breezes, the opportunities I
Would miss if I wasn’t so silly.

So, I write it all down, in hopes that they’ll leave,
Aspiring to never let the ruin bring all the melancholy
Back home, back to me.

Tribulations and curses that we all mask as omens,
Trying to tell ourselves that no fate is ever written
In stone, and alas, we keep swaying around in the room,
Where we all simply imagine who we’d like to be.

Is there a life elsewhere to be lived, distant
From all the things that we have never sinned against.

From all the things we hoped never to have, indeed, sinner.
A epoch of stillness, a generation of no wars to fight,
All the campaigns have gone, now we’re left with just light.
But light, what is light, it’s no absence of dark.

Today all the dusk is from within, so I struggle with
Phantom’s what could have been, and the most cruel
Wraith’s are the ones we create, with mixtures of guilt
And dreams, showing us what could never be, for now
Time for that journey has long came and gone, and
What ever is left, but the hope to move on?

So, I still preach that silliness is the path that remains,
The innocent ignorance to never think.
So, bring me forward those unblemished worlds, those
Unexplored promises, I shall use them as such,
For they will never have expectations, and thus never failed
Promises.

It’s the dark marks you left after you bit me.
I’m not doubting your soul, I’m just wondering
About its location, and
I’m warning myself
To once again, to once more
Not throw myself
To the dogs
To not jump the shark, hit the ground.

You always liked pop culture references, love.
Can I swear? Can I hate you when your fingers
Are touching me and when your skin flirts with mine?
Can I break down on my knees
(I bet you’d like that)
And start screaming, with all the rage and all the ******
Love I still, always, feel for you, as it rubs off all my
Confidence, as it rips apart, ****** inch by ****** inch,
Every part of my stomach, and every part of my not
Yet fully mended soul, as your fingers follow the trail of
Sin and pleasure, up and down, in a deaf rhythm, my limbs.

Can I, fully aware, relish in your touch, as your fingers
Trace every scar and every memory that your presence
Has left through the years on my skin?

Do you know how all the teeth marks on my shoulders
Remind me of a night? Not just any night. A night where
I counted stars, literally and in the abstract, as I sat down
And forgot how to use words and the sinking feeling of knowing
That not even beloved poetry could really give the feeling
Of how beastly I feel nearly you.
Oh limbs, that cry for touch and strength.
How can I make justice
From you?
How can I possibly honor the feeling of hungry need?
As it beats, craves, screams it’s eerily war cries.

Despair is my nom du guerre.
Oh, how reason has deserted me.

hands that sizzle against skin
fingernail markings
and angry pink marks on my neck

a thumb pushed harshly against my lips
but only slightly

fingers, not tracing ,but hungry
following familiar paths on strange
bodies and the urge to just shut me up

or argue on a different plane

the look of victory on both sides
neither willing to compromise but
aware that the sheets are the white flags
not so much swaying but rather tangled
and pushed aside for peace talks

lingering looks over half filled glasses
whispering when you don't need to but
just to know how it feels to have your face
on their neck and letting them know
you're thinking of it

pulling back at the last second,
let the moment before the kiss last
as long as it can possibly go on for

watch your arm break out in anticipation,
******* hard against soft fabric and
wondering if you're also thinking of
my clever mouth against your skin or
your face between my legs

staring at you fingers, i wonder if they'd
slip in smoothly on the first attempt and
i watch you fidget with your belt

and wonder if you're thinking you'd like
me to be there to carefully and attentively
undo it while i tell your foreign policy
seems to be lacking

your drunk, nibbling on something sweet
and your hands move in circles
i wonder what you're thinking of
as i nibble on a pencil

seven hours and i wonder if
conversation would last that long
were we sitting in the same room

we talk culture clashes and imperialism
you say i'm a perfectionist and
i say you don't think things through

and the morality of *** lingers on our tongues

like pebbles

we make the mountain crash in slow motion

every time we decide that we should step further

it just drags us closer

‘ground rules are important’, i say as i

twist my hand around knees and pinch

the skin inside to keep myself, functional.

the rules are as follows,



number one

we can’t sit together at dinner parties

it makes me itch when our arms touch



number two

i can’t look for you in the crowd

just to make sure you haven’t left

or that you’re looking for me as well



number three

you can’t not talk to me, it makes the room

dull and lights too bright

you give me headaches that cripples



number four

you can’t talk to me, it makes the room

feel alive and it consumes me from the

edges, making me fade little by little

it is all made of butterflies and tiny heartbreaks



number five

we can’t walk together,

i don’t think we’ll learn to stop



number six

we can’t kiss

once it started i couldn’t stop



number seven

we have to kiss without touching

your eyes must trace the space between my

eyes and mouth

they way mine do



number eight

this has to stop but

like you said

how do you become friends

with someone

you don’t want to be friends with

i have only moments
- minute portions or points in time
to remember you by and
what i remember are plaid
shirts and lingering eyes

but in the claustrophobic heat
you stare across a screen and there's
a lover's trail and you watch me
watch you