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608 · May 2012
the pink
Quinn May 2012
desperate men with beard ridden faces
and unique t-shirts with caps on their heads
watch girls move with precisely practiced motion
thrown off by a kilter from the drinks that they mourn

stares that long with a linger that forces
a sharp startling shiver up pale weak spines
keep girls on fences surrounded by sharks
one wrong move and all you'll see is blood

this game that we play with each other is daunting
but fun if you wear your poker face right
and i start to believe that i'm floating above it
when i'm the one who's been dealing hands all along
601 · Dec 2011
heavy heart
Quinn Dec 2011
there is something beautiful about a sad girl who stands staring into her own soul,
leaning hard against a mahogany mantle wondering how quickly gravity would take her if she let go

clutching onto something solid reminds her that she isn't lost inside some ****** up dream,
that the twitchy movement on the edge of her peripheral vision isn't your ghost ready to bridge the then, there, and in between

yesterday's masccara leaves the perfect hangover smudge, and wild curls turned stale frame a face ridden with gloom,
sadness and beauty compliment each other so well, she looks herself in the eye and decides to say forever locked in this room
592 · Feb 2011
my people
Quinn Feb 2011
you are my people!
i shout it from the tops of these absaroka mountains
to the bottom of the canyons and beyond
i know you can't hear my bellowing
but it comforts me to let it out
and i know in the depths of your souls you feel it

because you are my people
we are tied eternally
in a web that will never be broken
from our days of yellow jerseys
and sunday school with bowl hair cuts
to smoking cloves and cutting class

you were always my people
when we lost control
we would come together again
and there the balance would be
the world would keep spinning
but our world would slow down

you will always be my people
when we're old and grey
wherever we may be
i will reach across continents
and hold you close to me
our love will span the land
and i will say, these are my people
©erinquinn2011
586 · Apr 2011
gravity
Quinn Apr 2011
today i dreamt of the lower falls
and as we climbed
the hundreds of stairs
down to the landing to look up
we noticed that there
was a line forming at the top
of the canyon opposite us
and just as we clambered
down the final steps
they began
jumping one by one,
laughing as they went

and it wasn't that
gravity was taking them

for they floated
down like feathers,
light and beautiful
dancing with the wind

they had taken gravity
and thrown it away with
one fluid movement

and their laughter
could be heard ever
so slightly over the
plummeting water
that landed on the sharp rocks below
and it was the most
beautiful chorus i had
ever heard and i wished
aloud that the sound
would never leave me

it didn't occur to us
that they would eventually
land bloodied and mangled
on the rocks below
because they looked
far too in control
and graceful for such a
horrid fate

instead i imagined them
reaching the bottom
and vanishing,
simple as that

for it was obvious
that they had had enough,
even in my dream world,
i knew they weren't
jumping just for the
thrill of it
©erinquinn2011
586 · Feb 2013
internal
Quinn Feb 2013
things that i like: you
things that i don't like: you
strange, isn't it?

i've been a war of head vs. heart
since i was just a baby
i'd squeeze the kitten too tight
knowing that claws were coming,
but that moment of tenderness
was worth the wounds

now i'm no longer toddling,
but not much else has changed
i'm still holding onto things too tightly
knowing that at any moment
i'm due for injury
584 · Jun 2012
old world
Quinn Jun 2012
i forgot you
on the eve of my 24th celebration
of life on this earth
and it was as if i finally
buried the dead bird
that stopped fluttering in my chest
a year and a half ago

you fought your dirt
games with blinding manipulation
and all of the hand grenades,
switch blades, battle brigades
you could muster

i stood and watched
an old world crumble
but laughed aloud at your naivety
i had rebuilt this kingdom
from ground up
and the only master that mattered
was me
582 · Oct 2011
a fool at home
Quinn Oct 2011
bruises on my feet from
a night i can't remember
in that town that i can still
navigate with my brain
turned off and my body
left to it's own devices, a
dangerous moment, but
i've been here before

a zombie version of myself
wanders down main street
staggering back to a home
that's not mine to crash in
a bed that i once would hide
in, alone, and it's crushing
this spirt of mine

and when i wake up the
next day to peals of laughter
and look at myself and don't
understand, i'm a mess and
a martyr who just can't grow
up yet and i'm bitter and
wishing that time was on
my side

when i pick up the phone
it's you that i hear now and
i'd do anything to turn back
the clock, but it's me and i'm
alone and i can't reach the
hands now, and breaking
it is the only way of making
it stop
579 · Feb 2012
breatheat
Quinn Feb 2012
it's insane
that the human body
knows the difference
between a deep breath
and a bite of grilled cheese.
air down this tube,
grub down the other.

i sometimes sit
and think
god can't possibly be real.
how in the world
could he come up
with this ****?

with all of the complexities that
make up humans and the rest
of the animal kingdom,
i have to believe that our molecules
just smashed into each other
going 10,000 miles per hour,
and so we began.

tiny organisms at first
that grew to be beasts,
born to be brutes.
with feet that carried
them wide and far,
wreaking havoc
on this green of earth.
579 · Feb 2011
fucking fuck this
Quinn Feb 2011
why is it
that i have to sit here
and be complacent?
you don't like your life?
it'll get better,
but first you have to wait
for six months.
so what if you're doing
something you hate?
necessary evils
to get to where you want.
but why, oh why?
why are there necessary evils?
why is it that
this green ****
controls the world?
stupid *******
flimsy pieces
of ******* paper
with dead dudes
heads on them
control this world.
©erinquinn2011

drunk and angry!
577 · Nov 2011
pieces
Quinn Nov 2011
i live in a world
of sheets littered with
pen marks, used tissues and sweat

mind you, the pen marks are black
because i only write in
black ink, blue is too foolish,
if that makes sense,
although i'm quite certain
that it doesn't

i lay my head on torn
out pieces of poems, better
left unfinished
and i breathe deep
mostly because i love the
smell of worn paper
and a little because i
don't want these words
to feel unloved

i'm a writer who knows
her mediums better than
she knows her self
570 · Dec 2012
black ice
Quinn Dec 2012
broken hearts
feel good frozen
in black ice because
they've lost their
feeling and i've
lost my sight

you have eyes
that don't see like mine
and i can't reach the peep
hole in the back of your skull,
so i guess i'm never going
to understand

walk slowly
now because things
are suddenly
slippery and
your balance
has never been
that great
570 · May 2012
growing, growing, gone.
Quinn May 2012
i find myself at work
wishing i was still under covers
reading poems about other girls
written by ex lovers

my sister she tells me
i've lost my spark
i tell her i wish i could find
my way out of the dark

something invade me
turn me around
flip this life over and
throw me on the ground

make me climb up
so i can see from above
forget these dull heart aches
and leave them in past loves

because sitting in your
own ****
******* man,
that's the pits
Quinn Mar 2014
i take pieces of us,
of you, of me,
and i tuck them
between couch cushions,
into empty cigarette packs,
amongst sheets stuffed
into the crack between
bed and wall

i hide them in places
meant to be found

i'm not planning on
losing us,
on losing you, on losing me,
but,
there are times
when i'm unsure
of what to do
with the pieces
567 · Sep 2011
beginnings
Quinn Sep 2011
the day that we stood
in that empty tar lot
and felt the heat rise
from the ground
into the soles of our converses
behind the apartment
under the overcast sky
was when i first knew
that i wasn't going to let go

it was after we had traipsed
through the woods
with your sisters
and i had climbed the wall of stone
and leaped fearlessly
to the water below,
you tried to kiss me
through a waterfall
and i was too afraid
to touch your lips

and as we stood there
and prolonged the inevitable
you took my face in your hands
and tried to kiss
every freckle
and it took all of me
to keep my knees from buckling

and when you bit my lip
in that way that you do
i felt like i was going to explode,
i couldn't get close enough
even if i crawled inside of you

i drove away slowly
watching you walk away
knowing,
i wasn't going to let go
564 · Mar 2015
rearrange
Quinn Mar 2015
we switched the couch and the dining room table
and suddenly everything was different

spines became straighter, eyes locked with ease,
hands found old hobbies, and lost words lingered
until they were found

silence became a staple, but not in the way
that had made my palms itch before, no, this
way was like an overdue hug from an aunt who
painted your toes as a little girl, but stopped coming
to thanksgiving because she couldn't bear
the sight of everyone growing up

we sat on the couch only when eyelids couldn't
bear to blink and bodies bent in half, only then
did we sink into the oblivion that had claimed
the last three months of our lives

and when morning came, you lingered, but
i was back at the table, ready to dust off
another artifact lying somewhere within my soul
564 · Sep 2012
little jesus
Quinn Sep 2012
god help us if this is
what you meant
when you sent
little jesus'
in your wake,
after the prodigal son

full of die hard direction
on a path from which
they'll never stray,
these foot falls are misguided,
although their reasoning innate

hearts are full as they begin
on a journey
to save the needy souls,
but who are they
to judge sinners,
when they too
wear sinner's clothes

introspect, it escapes them,
while they smile
and explain to those around,
that, of course, they know better,
even if they haven't raised
this community from the ground

now myself,
I watch with wide eyes
through clenched teeth
and bitten tongues

my faith,
I find in humans,
that care deeply enough to understand
that a tree does not balance upon soil,
its roots are what makes it grand
556 · Apr 2012
cyclical city
Quinn Apr 2012
constantly craving human interaction
with an appetite that's insatiable and a streak that is wild
i wander and stumble, blinded by mediocrity
alone in a room with humans for miles

someone shake me, rattle my bird cage
because i fear that it's empty, just like my heart
i know this is my doing and i know that i'm lonely,
but for some reason i keep ending back at the start
553 · Jan 2012
drawn
Quinn Jan 2012
I want you to be there,
standing at the end of the road
that winds through mountains, over rivers, into canyons,
where ever this life takes me,
until it begins to head towards you
on an undeniably smooth and steady path

you'll stand there,
surrounded by sycamores
whose leaves have begun to turn
and as they begin their leap of faith to the ground
they will dance around you
because nothing in this world can deny you,
your magnetism is inescapable
the moment I lay my eyes
on your golden halo and fresh water eyes
I'll never look away

we'll meet there,
our roads becoming one
and I will walk with you forever
I'll never become bored or restless,
I won't wander, because,
what greater love is there
than the love between best friends?

I'll stay there,
with you, in this love, forever,
I will stay
because I could turn my skin inside out
and you wouldn't see a piece of me
that you didn't recognize
and you would still look me in the eyes and tell me,
"you're beautiful, but you already know that."
545 · Apr 2011
horrible little monsters
Quinn Apr 2011
horrible little monsters come out to play
sink the sun for the rest of our days
scare one and all, make them scream
close their eyes tight as you whisper, "it's not a dream."
poke them and **** them hour after hour
lock them away in the world's highest tower
make them beg for water and food
shun them and say, "don't interrupt, that's rude!"
send them on marches down the coasts
walking over coals as they roast
and when they start to beg their God to die
smile and say, "there's no man in the sky!"
laugh as they double over in pain
smirk as they slowly become insane
and soon the world will all be one
full of horrible little monsters, your work is done
©erinquinn2011
538 · Feb 2017
the remembrance
Quinn Feb 2017
i worked endlessly to extract the pieces of you from my brain,
silently sawed my skull open as i slept and plucked each
memory of us moving towards forever together with the
tweezers you left behind from that time you got a splinter and i
held you tenderly as i removed tree matter from your skin

that's one of the first ones that came back, followed by us
riding our bikes to the beach to drink beers and celebrate one year
even though the storm was coming and we only had that one old
ratty towel, i photographed you there and often looked at that image
of you after alcohol ruined us both and turned you into someone without
eyes that were smiling and skin no longer tender from being punctured with ink

i hid in that image of you, bronzed and perfect, content and looking
ahead to following me across the country to become a permanent
fixture in the family unit we had created over 3,000 miles away from
the one i was trying to escape, you were the one who reminded me
that there never really was escape, only ignorance, and i laughed at you,
wondering why you would damper our dreams with what i considered sadness

now the tears surround me, a curtain to the outside world that soaks
me in all i had worked so hard to lose, all i had refused to look in the eye,
all i had thought left me the moment i left you, but in all of my forgetting i had lost
sight of the understanding that pain doesn't fade that way, only tucks itself away
silently and patiently waiting for the relaxation, the lack of resistance, the remembrance
536 · May 2012
ghosts
Quinn May 2012
i long for words that would sail us
to middle earth;
a step up from hell for me,
a step down from the heavens for you

she and i discussed at length
the way that yearning pierces
painfully, just as the time before,
never any less, maybe a little more
over hand rolled cigarettes,
wine, and salsa dancing

we looked at a history of our city,
hard working men who breathed
through fire and molten metal,
and spoke for hours about how
art is the saving grace in this mess

i wished that i could find a way
to convince you to see the world
through my eyes,
but i know yours are just as bright
and maybe even more beautiful,
if not more unique

if only my mind could find
the answers
a piece of my world transfered
to yours

i'd like to show you all i have to offer
but realization of sure fire rejection
trumps desire for detection

now don't think that i sit
and wish for you in droves
a tiny shadow woman
who hasn't got any hope
because that isn't it, far from the truth
i'm just hopeless in wanting for things
that could've, should've, would've been
533 · Jun 2012
last breath
Quinn Jun 2012
i find myself backwards sliding
reeling through film blurred by dust
from the bunnies that hide under my skull
in the corners that i've tucked you away in

mountains, valleys, rivers, oceans, cities, creatures of the unknown,
they all spin by, a blurred bundle
of the adventures we shared

my heart used to hang low and heavy
but now it's full of nothing but air
stale and dank, but i can still smell
the coconut that you'd pour onto your scalp

i remember you as you were
the thought of seeing you as you are
is sickening

i'd rather keep a sarcophagus of you
than look into the eyes of your zombie being
and realize that i never actually knew
who you were
533 · Apr 2011
who i am
Quinn Apr 2011
i'm the girl
who lives
for the moment
when inspiration
strikes
who writes
more than
she speaks
because it
just feels
right

i'm the girl
who's loyalty
is all she
can see
with very
few humans
who truly
get me
(yes, i know
i sound trite
and ******
as can be)

i'm the girl
who speaks
volumes without
saying a word
the girl who's
thoughts are
often seen, but
not often
heard

i'm the girl
who falls down
and picks
herself up
without anyone's
hand to
give me a shove

i recognize
truth and
i believe in honor
i know myself
well and i
am always a
scholar

my brain likes
to eat
new knowledge
with fervor
when put
on the spot
i always
deliver

i'm the girl
who's guilt
often consumes her
who feels
more deeply
than most
could want
for

i'm the girl
who sees past
surface and lights
i can see who
you are even
on the
darkest of
nights

i live with passion
and stand by
what i do
you may not
know me, but
i probably know
you

i'm the girl
who is constantly
evolving
who's brain
is used for
magic and
solving

the girl
who won't sleep
because the
minutes are
never enough
who refuses
to let the
game
make her
too rough

i am who
i am and
i'll be who
i'll be
and chances
are you've had
some effect
on me

for humans
i let in
through my gates
most
definitely have
helped me
to decide
my fate
©erinquinn2011

silly little rhymes
530 · Jun 2012
bird song
Quinn Jun 2012
we walk a thick line
with margins as wide as we'd like them

when you don't believe in anything
it's easy to paint a picture of wild abandon

i tell myself that i'm free
but so does the caged bird
to bare the weight
of knowing he'll never touch the sun
530 · Nov 2012
mess
Quinn Nov 2012
***** sock
balled up
dipped in
dog ****
old sweat
horse ****
shoved in
my chest
as deep
as deep
goes

all to
find one
way to
stay away
and rue
the day
that i
found love

***** mess
sick skin
dead girl
walks on
alone

how to
clean
and find
a way
to take
back
death
i do
not
know
525 · Sep 2017
mother!
Quinn Sep 2017
mother, mother, mother,
you give and you give
and still there is not enough,
never enough for the fools who walk
in eternal damnation with only
fire extinguishing the desire
that drips, long and thick from their lips

your pulse it slows, and still you
feed us and hold us and lift us up
to safety while the wolves steal
your ribs one at a time, your lungs
collapsing in on themselves as
your last gasping breath provides
the push we needed to escape

oh mother, you're trembling now,
but your warmth matters not to
the vultures who peel your skin
off slowly to make coats from
the softness that surrounds you -
what do they need coats for?
they know not the difference
between desire and need, and
their beaks are sharp, so, why not?

strand by strand they steal your
beautiful hair and weave crowns
for the men who wish they knew
for a moment how to create, but
alas, they'll never know the beauty
of birthing something like you do,
the way it feels to grow life
day by day deep within your womb

mother, i can see it now, in your
hollowed cheeks and raspy voice,
the way your bones are barely
bound in flesh, your movements
are shaky and your eyesight it fades,
and the one who once loved you
no longer cares to show you the way

with each night that passes his light
shifts to shine upon the sharks that
have come because of the blood,
your blood -  he thinks that the fish
that follow will feed him too, but
they are only symbiotic pieces of the
same murderous school that will
tear him limb from limb when
they are finished with you

mother, he'll never understand,
the hunger that he feels is not
to be fed, for the minute it tastes
the flesh it will hunger until it
eats him too and there is no relief,
no reprieve, no release, no,
there is only certain loss and death

but you, mother, you will return
and wrap your arms around your
fallen children and weep until the
ground is saturated with your love,
until the shuddering of breath begins,
until your heart beat stirs us back
into living, only to ****** again
523 · Oct 2011
the cut
Quinn Oct 2011
remembering to let go
of what i've been
clenching in my fists
for so long
hurts

in the same way
the hunting blade did
in the raeman cabin

at first it's all shock
and the blood explodes
and it squirts
everywhere
and it's on my face and hers
and my clothes and hers
and the floor and the walls

i just looked at her
and said,
"i cut my finger"

and when i went
outside
everyone gathered
around me and stared

i'm not even sure what that
has to do
with what i began with

perhaps it's the shock
of something tearing into
you so deep
when you least expect
it

or maybe
it's the sustenance
that still pours out of me
despite
my desperate want
to hold it all inside

or the fact
that no one can help
but gawk with their
gaping mouths
at you as you're
losing vitality by
the seconds that pass
in slow motion,
but so quickly, all at once

and then all you're
left with
is a deep aching pain
that reaches
places you didn't know
would feel the gnawing throb
that settles in deep
and won't soon vanish,
but rest assured
when you lay
on your
pillow
surrounded
but your
curls,
resiliency is not
something
that you
were slighted of
521 · Feb 2011
For Adah
Quinn Feb 2011
She consumed me from the start
I never stood a chance
Even before we met this world
She found a way to win
Now I am the piece that just can’t fit
In this puzzle made for five
A tumor on each of them
But I do not bog them with my words
I do not have her swiftness
I manage on my own
Watching them all in silence
I see what they cannot
Those who say too much
Cannot hear

Now I have lost who I once was
I have been fixed
But who can say what fixed really is?
My mind is a clock missing its cogs
Time is askew and the hands have gone wrong
©erinquinn2011
520 · Feb 2011
wishes
Quinn Feb 2011
i look at pictures
and i can feel my heart
hurting
i wish there was a way
to jump right in
them
i wish a lot of things,
wishing doesn't get me
far

i know where you are
is where you should
be
but i can't help
wishing i was there
too
there i go again
wishing and getting
nowhere

i want you to
feel the
thumping
that my heart does
whenever i think of
you
but i can only wish
for your hand to be in
mine

circular has always
been the way we
run
over the same ground
with each step we
take
wish it could be different
but it's always the
same

so here i sit
always pining
away
my days are spent
wishing for the same
things
i'm fully aware that wishing
is just making
excuses
©erinquinn2011
514 · Sep 2017
a love bop
Quinn Sep 2017
i've turned into a wild mountain woman,
conquering peaks and balancing in poses
on a cliff's edge. my strength is my
greatest gift, my solitude, my greatest joy.
the trees and breeze my only loves
until you stumbled upon my worn dirt path.

learning to love myself through the one i choose to love

with each step along the shores of my
pristine, clear heaven I can feel your
breath in sync with mine, the trees
sway and question the heavy footfalls
alongside my short strides, and my mind no
longer lingers on each leaf, petal,
sound, no, instead it's your eyes i picture
when i inhale deeply and close mine.

learning to love myself through the one i choose to love

to share this moment, this magic
where my roots find home in a place
that i'm beginning to realize that i've
always known, the glassy water reflects
how well you fit right by my side, and
my heart whispers, "go ahead, dive."

learning to love myself through the one i choose to love
512 · Mar 2011
feel
Quinn Mar 2011
i sit and i listen,
and nothing sounds right.

i want it to be deep.
i want it to be painful.
i want it to emulate what's in my heart.

then i realize
that it can't.

the only way for that to be possible
is for me to create it,
and i can't help feeling sad.

i wish that i could help
people to understand.

but i know that i can't,
oh i know that i can't .

i sometimes think
to myself,
'i'm the loneliest girl in the world.'

i don't pity myself,
for i know,
it's me who's done this.
only i could have done this.
©erinquinn2011
512 · Jun 2011
paper doll
Quinn Jun 2011
i'm screaming fix it at the top of my lungs
and i'm inches from your sweaty forehead
and your eyes are the color of a sky
that's too pale, like someone's been stealing
the pigment one drop at a time

when you're unsure or sad or disturbed
they look down at the worn concrete
littered with cigarette butts and footprints
of drunken idiots just like us, not into my own

and we're sitting outside of the place
we all call home, where the ***** is too
cheap and the faces are all familiar
so much so that they start to blur
no matter if you're on your fourth, seventh, or twelfth

you're telling me the blame is
not going to fall on my shoulders,
but i feel it rain down like tiny pebbles
all pooling between bone and skin to
create one giant boulder inside of my chest

and perhaps it's because i know the words
that snake their way from your lips to my ears
will soon be covered in slime
from the regurgitation they will undergo
as they are repeated, perhaps with more conviction
the second time around,
but to another set of ears

it's interesting that as a woman i have
never felt more like an object than right now,
and it's at your hands, the man who promised
to never let anything compromise
the bond that tethered us together
through early afternoon games of catch, bowl smoking
before class, and long talks that left us out of breath

it seems you've erased who i really am in your
mind and replaced her with a giant
cardboard cut out - thinner, taller, more beautiful,
and much more compelling to stake claim over
©erinquinn2011
509 · Jun 2014
tomorrows
Quinn Jun 2014
sometimes it's all too much beauty -
this slow swing of life, legs dangling,
rainbow kissed fingernails clutching
ropes that are nearly worn thin, lungs
throwing air out in neatly folded piles
of whoops and screeches, which explode
into messes once they've escaped the
long, damp caves through cheshire cat smiles

your head on my shoulder allows me to
spot the tiny surfer riding the corn colored
waves of your hair, and the pulses that make
your sleeping arms dance
comfort me because you are comforted

we spend entire weekends watching
petunias bought with snack money bloom,
and the spiders swarm our honey dipped
deck to show us their latest web innovations,
we smile and stare and see
tomorrow after tomorrow in the sprawling
forests and caribbean beaches in one
another's eyes

if I could breathe you in through one of
these death sticks I would, slow and deep,
and you'd curl up tight in my soul, and I'd
never stop singing Jonny Cash songs
while you drifted off to sleep
508 · Jul 2015
lately
Quinn Jul 2015
I live silently in the shadow of the Olympics, losing my center by one degree daily. Pounding through enchanted forests and taking in all of the negative ions I can before I return to my treehouse. I should come home and stand on my head, but lately I've been telling myself scary bedtime stories about everyone that loves me secretly not giving a **** anymore. I feel like I've locked my spirit in a cage that sits on my shoulder. I witness the strange and bizarre life of living outside of true self, but despite my awareness and understanding, I am still not whole. The truth is that living a life brimming with light, love and beauty takes daily dedication to the dream, despite what ego whispers to me as I drift off to sleep. I know how to float above it all, I just have to allow myself to become weightless.
507 · Feb 2014
february
Quinn Feb 2014
today, I was asked,
by a machine,
"what's the best thing
that happened to you this week?"
and, it followed up with,
"don't be afraid to brag."

I spent awhile wondering
how you might
compute and crunch
just what it means
to receive your first hug
from a third grader
who you're harder on
than most
because you know
behind the lack of focus
lies genius left unexposed,

but I'm pretty sure
that's made every
sloppy, sludgy, snowy
trek this month
more than worth
my while
506 · Feb 2011
home
Quinn Feb 2011
i cried then as i thought of the homes in my heart that i had left behind

with the band playing in the background that i had once seen in the middle of the park
with the friends that i had made in that too tiny building
the boy who tapped, the other that never showered
the wine that we drank in the same park a year ago out of coffee mugs
the bikes we rode from one end of town to the other
the stoop we sat on night after night
the roof we climbed onto and sparked bowls upon
the whales i swam with every night

it all flooded back to me and all i could do was want for it
i knew i could never have it again and i thought to myself that perhaps this is what heart break feels like

i wondered what my family was doing, and no, i didn't mean the family with the same blood running through their veins
we had created a family with a force field like no other
all of us gifted in some way
pushing at the boundaries always, working as one with a strange sort of balance,
almost like a cable bridge

i sighed then and realized my endless yearning would do me no good
we had scattered now, as if a child had plucked us from a field and blown the seeds every which way
no matter how hard we tried to cling onto each other the wind had its plans
©erinquinn2011
505 · Jan 2018
the seeds
Quinn Jan 2018
i walked in the palm of my father's hands,
uncomfortable under his gaze
i cut the strings long ago, but
this image remains, an epitaph
of my youth-filled days

i hid from the touch of my brother,
because he used to touch me in ways
i didn't like, but the strong carry on
and our hero capes we don, when really
we'd like to end it with a kitchen knife

i remember the smell of my lover,
7&7's before seven AM, he'd light
up a smoke while telling a racist joke,
i took that vice with me when i finally
got the guts to run
500 · Apr 2012
living
Quinn Apr 2012
do you ever wish that you could turn your skin inside out? just pull down a zipper that starts on your skull and ends on your heel. then once you've got things open and airy, flip it about. now you're shiny and new and the grime that just won't scrub off in the shower will be hidden from prying eyes.
i find myself naked after showering, sitting in a computer chair, wishing i could float in thin air. i don't want any kind of microfiber touching my body. i don't want clothes, i don't want floors, i don't want cars, i don't want a **** thing. i want to exist in nothing and i want to be happy that way. i want to be free of things that trap and hide what i am; human.
i'd like to live a life free of vices. dependent on nothing and no one. ***, drugs, alcohol, food, love, throw it all out the window. watch it float into oblivion and tell it to ******* for eternity. i'd like to open up the door to my chest and see what's in my heart and live for that. now that would be living.
499 · Jun 2012
real eyes
Quinn Jun 2012
i sit and wonder where life goes when i'm not looking it in the eye
and then i smell it wafting up, the stench from my feet after a day at work
chasing little people that need me more than they need their own mothers,
i taste it in the notes that land between light and languid singing out from
the wine glass that holds the only thing that can put me to bed these days,
i feel it on this old torn up couch that's been passed around in musical houses
since 1973, tattered and worn, but it's the only thing that feels like home,
and i hear it in the door slams that come from the tiny hands of the neighbor's
children as they screech in and out, like miniature race cars whizzing round the bend

this life surrounds me, eats me whole, ***** me out, and repeats the process
until there's not a breath left to consume, a moment left to experience,
a burst of light left to pry open my eyelids when all i want to do is lay in bed
this life is mine, but it's everyone else's too, and as much as i want to hold tight
to the fleeting moments that end too soon, i've got to let go in order to keep up with it
498 · Dec 2012
move
Quinn Dec 2012
speak silently now
because whispers
are all that we can
afford on a simple
budget of fool's
dreams and past
pretenses

i want to love you
in the worst way
that makes my skin
crawl and teeth
chatter as i lay
in bed thinking
of your too smooth
skin and sad, strange
eyes

the past punctures
dreams and shows
me what my heart
has not forgotten,
one broken piece
at a time

i think i'll take
a ride now, and fly
over this city on
my bike until
hands freeze to
handlebars and
i forget what
standing still is
498 · Oct 2014
room
Quinn Oct 2014
we spent our days
locked away in room-
plywood levels of madness
with red lights lacing the top

i was always seeing double
through camera lens and
whiskey goggles

these were my friends,
the bearded boys that could
have passed for homeless men

butkisses and parades,
that's how we partied,
day in and day out,
sun up and sun down

when one left, he was
never replaced, but a cutout
of his face stood as a
reminder that we would
all eventually go

gloved hands held
cheap bears, and cassettes
filled up all of our fears-
did you? covered in
shaving cream, bras in
the oven, deep fried
monstrosities called
ice cream

we fell in and out of
beds, onto wood floors
filthy with forties, and
labels reminded us of
the difference between
windows and walls

hands printed memories
on flesh and fabric,
as organs were kept
alive in the attic by
a stroke of their keys

i could return to the
porch with no railings
and relive each moment,
each night that reeled
us in and spit us out,
sloppier than the saliva
that landed on the sidewalk

these were my friends-
wasted, wandering and free
495 · Mar 2011
roll
Quinn Mar 2011
all day
i've been thinking of tonight
that bitter taste in my mouth
lick and dip, baby,
that's all it takes

do you feel it?
i don't know
do you feel it?
i can't tell
how are my pupils?
huge!
how are my pupils?
sharked out!

ooohhhhh, we're feelin it

then the bass comes in
and crawls through the floorboards
slow and steady it makes it's way
through the tips of our toes
and sits heavy in our hearts

with each beat we fall
deeper and deeper
into the moment
and we feel the music wrap
itself around us
and we let go

each movement
is unplanned, but it's precise
because we've got something
in us
that makes us move in marvelous ways
©erinquinn2011
491 · Oct 2014
love
Quinn Oct 2014
here is the truth:

i am an insecure,
traumatized,
hopeless
child at times

a pure product
of my upbringing
and of years
living out a strong
hatred of self

i am evolving,
as we all are,
and i hope that
despite my
constant attempts
to push you
as far away
as humanly
possible,
that you stick
to me like
cement on
a sidewalk

because

you make me
want to be
the best
possible
version of
myself
487 · Oct 2011
summer love
Quinn Oct 2011
wild the way that summer nights consume us
as we lay mesmerized in the damp grass
by the tiny buzzing bugs
who's butts blink bright inches above
our shining foreheads, thick with the day's sweat

and as our fingers walk a thin line
from blade to blade
they begin to dance
around one another,
seemingly full of life,
but all they yearn for is a place to rest

our faces are but inches away
and i can see the freckles
on your shoulders
as i look down because you've
already caught me staring
one too many times

little do i know, you're studying
the way the moon picks up
the blonde streaks in my hair
and the scar that sits
next to my left eye
and makes me look tougher than i am

and if we could both burst open
we would and our insides
would explode into the sky
like giant burning rocks hurtling
through the atmosphere,
gravity tugging us closer and closer
until we finally collide  into one another,
a beautiful disaster
slightly trite? yes.
487 · Apr 2011
thousands of tiny pieces
Quinn Apr 2011
i am breaking into
thousands of tiny pieces
one by one they
are cast into the wind
and become lost
beyond the horizon
and as they swirl
through the air
each piece calls to you
but you pretend not to hear
and the desperation and pleading
in my voice only paint me the fool

so on i go, broken and wandering
endlessly hunting
for a way to put myself
back together again
for so long, i thought
it would be you
who took my
thousands of tiny pieces
and put them
where they belong
but now i realize
you wouldn't even
know where to begin
©erinquinn2011
487 · Sep 2015
surrender
Quinn Sep 2015
i used to be a perfect bundle of baby smooth
skin, unscathed and innocent, but life
has become about staying strong
through whatever tries to tear me
apart and leave me a pile of nothing

i think back and the monsters that went
bump in the night are no longer the
truly terrifying, instead it's what my
brain projects on my eyelids

the truth is that memories are
nothing but stories that we tell ourselves
to stay scared, or to get free,
and lately i'm feeling impatient
waiting for my chains to fall off

strength doesn't mean **** if i
can't put the key in and free myself,
and you're dead wrong if you think
a single other soul in this world
can do the freeing for you

trying to reframe every moment
in my existence, reveling in the
realization that i always have a choice,
that i will never be lost if i allow myself
to live for what i truly love
486 · Mar 2018
hindsight
Quinn Mar 2018
suicide has a way of leaving a wake of potential saviors behind it

the kind of folks who've got all the right words and silent holding of space
who've been through it too and are happy to sit in solidarity for as long as it takes
the humans who know how to create connections to the right resources and have unlimited time to sit in the muck

i wish i didn't cut you out, like a child with wild rounded edged scissors chopping her best friend out of the portrait she drew of the last time they climbed up that big hill together

i can feel your spirit bouncing around the universe still, unsure and free, just as you should have been here

the echoes of loss are always painful, but this one is strange and different, this one will whisper me to sleep until i don't wake up
475 · Nov 2011
the edge
Quinn Nov 2011
i have walked to the ends of the earth
and peered over the edge
sat with my feet swinging
like a little ******* a bench
wishing her limbs would grow longer, stronger

i have seen what lies beyond
and i'm no better than i ever was

in fact,

i'm worse

because all that i've learned
is that life in eternal solitude
isn't life at all

and all that i want is you,

telling me i'm too close to the edge
holding my hand so that i can't let go
reminding me that the beyond is for those
who can't figure out how to live and to grow

and i love you for the things
that you teach me when i don't want to learn

for the way that you make me see
something that's been there all along

i love you because you made me believe
that i'm not always right and that
admitting i'm wrong doesn't have to be
laying down and giving up my plight

i love you because you're not afraid
to look me in the eye and tell me
******* it, erin, don't be so terrified
that you can't let go and fly
473 · Oct 2014
fade
Quinn Oct 2014
this place is masterful
in the art of illusions

one minute the walls
are closing in, and the
next the doors are all
locked and there are
no windows from
which you could
leap to safer ground

i stand in the kitchen
and try to be helpful,
but when washing
sharp knives i have
thoughts that i can't
even write down

there is a man in
the living room, but
he mimics a robot,
spending his days
repeating and repenting,
trying to lure us
into the fold

i feel alone amongst
eight, like everyone
looks through me,
misunderstands my words,
forgets my intentions

fading into corners
and under floorboards,
soon, i will be a ghost
469 · Jan 2013
work
Quinn Jan 2013
i go into my workshop
and surround myself
with teeny tiny tools
and put on goggles
that magnify my hand
until it looks like it belongs
on a giant, not a tiny girl

i turn on bright lights
that illuminate a blank
surface, that i've imagined
is covered in things that
must be fixed,
and i pick and i ****
and i poke and i position
until there's nothing left,
though i can't be too sad
since i started out with
nothing in the first place

i wish i could figure out
whether i've thought this
up or if it's real, but the fact
remains, that i am being
haunted by something i can't
grasp or understand

i wish your lips would move
when i see you in my sleep
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