Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2015
How can we tell if anyone is at home?

I wish you had come in a box, I'd open you now
A tin can would be too small unless we were playing dares.

I don't accept these terms. We could have been arrested together
And then we'd have another piece of paper with our names on it to enjoy.

The letters I've been sending you are shorter.
I prefer when our names are closer to each other.

That copper lithograph you made and the limited edition prints,
Those are still so ******* rad.

You left that white leather bag with the gold hardware at our apartment,
Iridescent purple crochet needles, what appears to be the beginning of

An autobiography you must be putting together. I'd be lying if I said I washed and folded your clothes. I only folded them.

How long will someone's natural perfume stay on clothes?

I don't delete some period's.
Sometime's the worst punctuation is the kind that stays forever.

I miss you more than the addiction to painkillers I kept up until
Two months ago. I've been making the necessary upgrades.

They don't have a word for how much you mean to me.
A monogamous flightless bird that serves at the pleasure of its mate

Was the closest I came to showing you not only that I'd carry you
So you didn't have to walk over the scalding lava, but that

These limbs are fitted for your form. My legs will never grow weak.
Beautiful extraordinary things adults do with their mouths

For hours and hours and hours if they like.
After lips move and speaking does not require voices, whispers, or tells.

Waking up with my arms wrapped around your leg, My head laid
In the valley of your belly button.

Everything great of me was incubated with your body in our time.
It seems we shucked everything good from your tiny body

Until you lied yourself into believing you weren't worthy of such
Immense happiness and pleasure. You have not put me away.

Your lies were lies, if only to reinforce cognitive distortions.
Being brilliant and beautiful is the curse we agreed.

This venom is three years young and flying first class, one way, with four Checked bags, rocking forward to urge time forward.

What will bring the smiling back?

The temple mounds and eyelids sewn into the lines where lips
Greeted the fantastic strands of gleaming threads in your birth crown.

I have pictures of our pictures.
I have shoes for my shoes, and their tongues are hanging out.

We introduced each other to cool. I introduced you to your body
And for three years we ****** six times a day at least.

I wear your California necklace and studded leather cuff always.
Still nothing and no one could ever come between.

Heavy flow, blood letting, and mainstream apostrophes, and
Still we are bending time and making up gravity as we go along.

We became the Villains we hoped we'd become,
But the monster that is ripe on my skin is glowing.

This is the fight I'm not going to let up on, I will not sit down until your Cappuccino with agave and steamed milk is ready for you in bed.

You wait on me like a polaroid whose shadow looks to be a ghost
But ends in contrast and a lack of exposure.

I drank the poison too and left enough for you to use.
hurt britniwest addiction punctuation forever oxy opiates painkillers birds dreams dreamgirl mygirl mydreamgirl exposure photo photographer writer writing publish shadow selfloathing confusion jimihendrix  sanfrancisco sf california chicago hangingout tongues lips mouths kissing kiss ******* lust crusader warrior trials elliottsmith  paloalto lava true life nonfiction poem poet poetry beauty extraordinary tiny funsize lifestyle style mate wife come lost disappeared shoes gender apostrophes menarche periods period 20 mainstream jetstream private blood heavyflow Villains villain poison agave coffee cafe espresso sittingdown sleepgirl girls beauty lovers' spit beehives broken social scene portolavalley thebayarea the bay sfbay waiting waitingtodie waitingtolie neverforget infinitememories autumn fall winter photographicmemory recall nostalgia britniwest martinnarrod
Martin Narrod
Written by
Martin Narrod  38/M/CA
(38/M/CA)   
1.2k
     Glassmuncher and Martin Narrod
Please log in to view and add comments on poems