i fear the day that the sky turns dark red.
when chocolate covered strawberries taunt me.
and when dagger-sharp arrows fall overhead.
these are the sure tell signs that you must flee.

you must fear St. V, for he is peckish,
famished and preying for those lonely hearts.
he will seek you out and offer a kiss
and with eyes closed, aim at you with his darts.

you must not trust this pink and lovely day.
no matter the roses or the love notes,
or the sweet grand gestures and what they say.
St. V will trick you and slash through your throat.

So when that dreadful love-filled day rolls in,
go find that cherub babe, and slaughter him.

and it’ll be as if it never happened.

and it’ll all fade away.

days and months and years
and nothing will be the same.

maybe you’ll be older and wiser
maybe you’ll be kinder

and it’ll all be a bad dream
something to shake you up from your sleep

and it’ll leave you to wonder
was it even real?

have i no wounds to heal?
the scars will thicken over
it’ll be brand new again

you’ll forget of love and war
and you will never mend

the tiny fracture in your armor
will create the same salt somber

that somewhere your heart is thieved
that somewhere, within me, your heart, it grieves.

and now i’m drenched in desire.

feral and writhing at the hand that feeds me
and everyone always feeds me.

there’s no use in waiting
or wading in the grass

yet, i still feel the blades upon my back
every drop of wet wet dew caresses me
and the breeze shimmers me tauntingly.

now, i twist and contort at the touch of something new
and it rises up in me,
this new longing,
this new pining.

won’t you satisfy me?
won’t you give me what i deserve?

and i know that i will see you again
under the shade of the night
covered in sticky sweat
and love’s delight.

and until then,
nothing else will satisfy me.
nothing can compare.

and soon, so soon,
you will own my flesh
and you’ll have me, rare.

do you exist?

in this realm,
in this time,
in this small blip of moments,

and if so,
how do i capture you?
hold you in my hands.
in my heart.
how do i seek you out?

when you’re nothing of our kind.
neither here nor there.
you’re simply smoke and mirrors.
nowhere, yet everywhere.

you’ve got no flesh and bones,
simply god made and grown.
you’ve got no fear, just quest,
a longing to roam.

are you even real?

or just an ache that I conceal?

if you are just fiction,
how do I conjure you
and keep you with conviction?

you’d be locked into my mind.
giving me endless daydreams,
yet consuming all my time.

then maybe i’d be lost
in your never ending shimmer.

my life and light would fade
in comparison
to a low flicker dimmer.

i would waste my decades decaying.
simple, stupid, and waiting.

i would turn down every suitor.
yet I would be an angry, seething,
lovelorn refuter

and if i can’t have you,
or sift my hands to grasp,
what will be the purpose?
and what heart of mine will last?

The first time I contemplated suicide was at the age 13.
Sleeping pills. Just like mom.
I wanted to dream forever.
Many more occurrences followed that year.

The next was at the age of 15.
Cutting. Finally had the courage.
I took a broken shard of glass and I
Finally found the anger inside of myself.

Following that was the age of 17.
Self inflicted pain. Heartache seemed worse at the time.
I dug my nails into my skin.
Making scars seemingly physical now.
I finally found a way to release the pain.

Last night,
I contemplated suicide.
I promised that I wouldn’t go through with it.
But who cares?
Who could stop me?
Who would want to?

I’m happy.
I swear, I am.
You know I am.
I only fake it a little bit.  

But sometimes,
I don’t think I can do this anymore.
I don’t think I can live anymore.
At least not by myself.

I hated myself,
And time and time again.
The hate seeps through the bleeding cuts.

Sometimes I starve myself.
Sometimes I hurt myself.
Sometimes I hate myself.  

Sometimes I contemplate suicide.

But tonight
I cut the pen into paper.
Bleeding out my vulnerability in hopes to die poetically.

Dad,

Did you really mean the things you said to me? That one night.
Did you really mean to disown me at birth? That one afternoon.
Did you really mean to hurt me and the woman I love? That one day.

Before birth, dad, I learned love through closed fists.
I learned love through the smell of bourbon and the taste of whatever drugs were on your tongue that night.
I learned love through abandonment.

At the age of three months, I was naive.
I thought love was shown in the shapes of bruises.
I thought love was left in the burn marks.
I thought love was embedded into broken ribs.

I thought sleeping pills made you fly.
That’s why I cried for mama to take me with her.

At the age of seven, I was naive.
I believed you loved me.
I believed that I was the subject of every waking ballad you’d sing to me.
I believed that your rough hands rubbing lotion on me was out of love not pure obligation.

At the age of nine, I was naive.
I trusted your words.
I trusted your vows.
I trusted everything you’d say.
Yet, you never showed up.

But even love can’t make room in busy.

At the age of eleven, I was naive.
I waited for you.
I longed for you.
And some nights,
I cried for you.

But distance makes screams seem quieter than they seem.

At the age of thirteen, I was naive.
I needed you.
That year I tried to fly like mama.

No one cried for me.

At the age of sixteen, I was naive.
I was cutting the thought of you out of me.
I was cutting the half of me that belonged to you.
I bled out the portion that reminded me of you.

Dad, I’m scared.
I’m terrified that I forgot a piece of you.
That inside me, somewhere, is a part of you growing.

I don’t want to hurt the ones I love.
I don’t want to ruin everything I love.
I don’t want to make anyone feel the way you made me feel.

I fear that I'll grow up to be you.
Ruthless, mysterious, alone, aggressive,
And a coward.

But
At the age of 18, I wasn’t naive.
I pushed you away.
I cut all ties.
I disowned you this time.

At the age of 18.
You created sons,
You created a family.
The one you always wanted一
You finally found the true meaning of love.

Your youngest daughter,
Marrianna.

When my kid asks me:
Mama, where were you when the coronavirus pandemic hit?

Well, sweet child, mama was out there exploring the world. I climbed mountains, sailed seas, and fought pirates. Mama was a warrior. She was a healer. She was something else. Mama was making history.

Really, Mama?

No, baby.

I stayed inside trying to finish schoolwork. I put together every puzzle at least 3 times. I ate the same meal twice a week. Baby, mama was robbed. Mama never saw her friends, mama never went to prom, mama never fought a pirate.

Was that all, mama?

No, love.

People died. Too many people, too many people died. We were too stupid, we were too busy, we were ignorant, love. We were destructive, we were killers of our own kind. We were monsters, love.

But, sweetheart...

Yes, mama?

There was beauty in it. Such beauty. We died so the world could live. Flowers bloomed, fish swam, and nature thrived. We could feel the sunshine, we could feel the rain, we could hear the birds, sweetheart. It was beautiful.

Weren’t you scared, mama?
Weren’t you lonely?

My child, yes, I was once. I was scared and I was lonely, but I learned something, my child. In fear, nothing grows. In isolation, there is solitude. But In hope, we flourish. In solitude, we find peace.

My child, my sweet child, we were just beginning to awaken.
Now, we’ll never sleep again.

Have you ever washed the blood of another off of yourself?

Standing under the shower’s rain,
Rinsing, and scrubbing the blood off your face and arms.
Staining the tile where you stand;
Swirling hypnotically down the drain.

I shot you;
I’m the reason you’re dead,
And the splatter of blood across my face proves it.

The gunpowder is still under my nails,
Black as ever as if I scratched my way out of my own coffin into yours.
I’m still coughing up dirt, I swear.

I stabbed you;
I’m the reason you won’t wake up.

The blade glimmered as I twisted it into you so fluidly.  
I was afraid to pull it out,
Afraid that a piece of myself was embedded in you too.
The dagger is a shade of red and brown as if you were ***** just like me.

I killed you!
Can’t you see? You can’t.
But, I believe, no, I know you feel it somewhere.
Somehow.

This water isn’t hot enough.
It’s not scalding enough to burn the feeling of you off of me.
But the blood,
Oh, the blood.
A never ending crimson sea, a deep bleeding river of you, slowly, but surely, disappearing from existence.

I run a bath,
The shower wasn’t enough.

I’m still stained.
I’m still tainted,
I’m still bleeding into someone who isn’t me.

The water swishes as I settle in.
Back and forth, up and down,
Over and under the sides of the tub.

The water won’t stop turning red,
A deep red.

A reminder that I killed you,
That I shot you,
That I stabbed you.
That I don’t regret it,

But regret isn’t guilt.
Is it?

It’s ******.

In my darkest dreams,
You lie there.
Awaiting me in dark hues of purples transforming into mist.

You smile, half-lipped in such a devilish way.
It leaves me in thrill.

You growl,
A low animalistic cry that you’ve kept prisoner for so long.

You howl.
As if I am your lunar eclipse,
And you have to have me before dawn.

In my deepest dreams,
You wait there.
Lying in dark hues of reds transforming into mist.

You reach for me;
Arms outstretched in a silent desperate plea.
I always comply.

We push and pull,
We Grapple into a tangled mess of filth and shame.

The air hangs heavy in a dark dream like this.

I awake,
Sweat on my brow,
And my mouth in a shape that can only say your name.

You take me to a field.
Overgrown with weeds, grass, and wildflowers with a mind of their own.

Interlocked,
Our fingers make 10 promises as you lead me barefoot through the brush.

You chose a dark starry night with the moon to oversee our ventures.

Pulling me through,
I lift the hem of my dress in an attempt to save it from stains.

Your feet stop.
“This is it.”
You say.

Pulling me to my knees,
The bare ground tickles me fancy.

I look up to see you towering over me, with the moon as my witness.
You push my arms over my head,
Tugging my dress,
Shrugging it down my shoulders.

Exposing me to the Earth—
I feel everything.
The grass, the stars, your every exhale, and the hiss of a snake. (Somewhere in the night with us.)

You smile down at me, and of course,
I smile back.

I start to speak,
You push your hand over me.

“You mustn’t speak.”
I comply.

Your eyes glow yellow in the dark.
A flash of regret and guilt flutters into my heart.
“Are you sure we should do this?”

He reaches to shed his shirt, molting layer after layer,
Revealing new skin, cold to the touch.

Pressed against me, bare.
Out of the crook of his neck:
I see the stars.
Blinking, flickering, dancing for me.

Beautiful, angelic,
Delicious.
You create a new woman out of me.

Clearing at dirt, grabbing at grass, and gasping at the sight of seeing stars.

Crickets sing into the night, frogs croak a melodic ballad, and the birds whistle in their sleep.

A chorus of the night.
Snakes hiss join in.

You use me anyway you want.

“You mustn’t tell anyone.”
I seal my lips with the taste of a red kiss.

As the moon grows tired of the night,
The sun peaks into our world.

You lift me up, slipping my dress back onto my shoulders.
Zipping me up with ease.

I look down to see it tainted with green grass and brown Earth.

‘Was it worth it?’
I sigh, but smile.

Our hands meet again for our last ten promises as you lead me again through the brush.
Through tall grass, tired weeds, and wild flowers.

You lead me out into the sun.

“Here is where we part, my love.”

“Will I see you again?”

“Only on your darkest days.”

You kiss me again.
The shakes hiss and night choir sings. Angelic.

Eyes open—
You’re gone,
Gone with the night.

I turn for home.
(Wherever that is.)

“Where were you, my other half?”

“I was with the night.”

“What’s that in your hands, darling?”
“Show me!”

As if magic, I feel an object pressed against my palm.
(The palm that once held you.)

I slowly open up, breaking our promise.
I reveal the only remnant of our night:
A red apple.

With a fresh bite missing,
My mouth tingles wet.

I touched myself to the thought of you last night.
And, God,
It felt so ******* good.

The thought of you above me,
Hand around my throat,
With your teeth clashing into mine.

It felt so *****.

Our spit and other ****** fluids mixing and creating the chemical reaction for love.

I could hear your voice edging me on.
‘Go faster, you ****.’,
‘I know you want me to make a mess of your innocence.’,
I can still hear the echoes of the filthy and twisted fantasies we have.

My fingers spin the most intricate and intense shapes over and over again.
In hopes of merely grazing the ******.

I can feel you,
Pulling my hair,
Digging your nails into me,
And slapping me senseless.

Everyone must think we’re sick—
But I don’t care.

I need you,
I need to ***,
I need you like never before.

If this is the image of true love,
Me with my hand down my *******,
Head thrown back,
Back arched,
And sputtering gasps of “Yes, Sir.”

Then this is a fairytale.

Growing wetter and wetter,
I’m soaking through my moans of pleasure.
Closer and closer,
I’ve almost reached the end.

With a happily ever after
You growl into me animalistically.
You spread me open to lap up each and every last drop.
You look at me—
You smile.

“Who’s a good girl?.”

Let me tell y’all something:
The white man don’t care about our suffering.
The privilege is too bright to see us.

The white man don’t care about us.
The white man wants to see us get shot,
The white man wants to see us wither and perish.

But who built America on their backs,
Bare handed, and
Whipped into submission?

We did.

We will take back America.
We will take back our streets,
Paved with the blood and tears of our people.
This is our America.

Not whitewashed and stained red with racism.

This is your America.
Where when we say, “Stop! Don’t shoot!”
You shoot anyways.

This is your America.
Where when we say, “I can’t breathe.“
You continue to suffocate us.

This is your America.
Where when we say, “Help.”
You continue to let us suffer.

This is your America.
Where the president calls us thugs,
And threatens to shoot us and our freedom.

This is not my America.

This is your America.
Where you shoot us for having cell phones.
Where you terrorize our sons and daughters.
Where you **** us for being black.

Who gonna protect us?
Not cops drunk on their own power and superiority.
Not the president blinded by racism.
Not our white “allies” who stand by and watch us burn.

But if we burn,
You burn with us.

If you **** us,
You die with us.

We tried peace,
We tried awareness,
But we always end up with violence.

We’re scared,
But who can blame us?

You’re killing us with your American Dream,
You’re murdering us with your American Dream,
You’re suffocating us with your American Dream.

This is your America—
Not mine.

We will take back America.
We will take back our freedom
Or we will die trying.
And that is the American Dream.

I see it, right there.
That faint glimmering in your eyes.
It’s hope,
It’s inspiration,
No wait, it’s love?

It’s everything.

I see everything in your eyes.
I see long nights,
Early mornings, and
Sweet memories.

I see Leonine taking his first steps,
I see Luna on her first day to school,
I see two hands ring clad interlocked.

I see us,
And to me,
That’s everything.

Do you see it?
That sparkle in your eyes when you look at me.
I see it,
And I love it.

I love everything,
I love you,
I love us.

My one and only,
My love,
My everything.

That’s what I see.

(I snuck out of the house yesterday.)

Quietly,
Don’t make a sound.
Shh.

The window holds my reflection in it,
It tells me,
“Don’t do this.”
“This isn’t you.”

I ignore the pleas.
I unlatch the bars,
And lift the window open.
It squeaks.

Be quiet.
Don’t make a sound.

I pull the screen up along with the window,
I squeeze through the opening.
This is it.

I feel the grass under my feet,
Freshly misted with dew.
The crickets chirp,
“What are you doing?”

I continue on.

I run through the grass,
Leaving footprints behind as evidence.

My feet hit the pavement.
Rocks digging into skin.
The night renders me blind.

The moonlight shines down on me,
“Where are you going?”

I reply,
“To see my love.”

I’m half way down the street.
I feel you there with me.
I feel you warm right there.

The dogs caged in the neighbors yard howl,
“Turn back! You shouldn’t do this.”

I look at them,
With finger over lips.
Don’t make a sound.

I reach a slow.
Legs burning, out of breath.

A car slowly hums behind me.

I get in.

The seat hot against my thighs.

“Buckle up.”

I comply.
The engine turns over,
And everything that was forward is now behind.

We pull into an abandoned parking lot—
You know, the one by the 66 Diner.

The car stops.
Seats creaking,
You turn to me.

Windows fogged,
With your tongue pressed to the inside of my cheek.

Car dark,
With my tongue pressed to the inside of your teeth.

Quick,
Be quiet.

I have to be back by dawn—
No one can know that I left.

‘Till then.
The night is ours, Chase.

It’s 3 am and I’m writing poetry.
Not my usual go to love poem though.
(I promised multiple people I wouldn’t write anymore about that one person)
(You know that one guy.)
I’m writing poetry at 3 am.
(Not love poetry,)
Just poetry poetry.

I can’t write anymore poems about (missing) you,
(Wanting you,)( or even still loving you.)
(Yes, I remember my promise.)

So, I’ll write this—
My 3 am poem.

My poetry comes alive in the nighttime.
(Or should I say unreasonable hours of the day when I really should be asleep, but I think I might have borderline insomnia.)

My mind runs at a million miles per hour,
I think of everything at once.
Metaphors, onomatopoeia, and allusions.
And you know me,
I just can’t resist the perfect stanza.

I become fixated on it.
I tell myself no,
No, no, no,
You need to sleep.

But here I am,
Writing, writing, writing.

And guess what?
I even write in my sleep.
My dreams create prose better than I ever could.

It’s a tragedy that I’m sure even Shakespeare was a victim of.

Writers don’t sleep,
Poets don’t sleep,
No one does.

Or else everything falls apart.

You forget how commas work,
You forget how to spell the word ‘Apricot’,
And you forget the meaning of it all.

You forget the reason for writing,
You forget the passion of spoken word.

The only sleep that a poet will ever receive is when they are truly immortalized in their work.

And as you can see,
That is not happening anytime soon for me.

So, I’ll stay up every night.
Trying to remember the meaning of oxymoron,
With the word eulogy on the tip of my tongue.

You’ll never understand me,
And that’s alright.

Other poets will never understand me,
And that’s just fine.

All we’ll ever understand about each other is that words don’t sleep,
And it seems that neither will we.

(-The Poetic Insomniacs, 3:12 am)

Call me obsessive,
I’m just a passionate lover.

I lay awake at night,
I look at the ceiling thinking of you.
Sometimes I never sleep.

I’m not obsessive,
Just in passionate love.

I stay in bed all day,
I close my eyes dreaming of you.
Sometimes I never wanna wake up.

I still have your clothes,
Some never washed.
I put them on and pretend I’m you.

I sit in front of the mirror,
I touch myself as you.

Call me obsessive,
I’m just your passionate lover.

I take hot showers.
I let the water cascade over me with eyes open
So I see the shape of you.

You stand in the shower with me,
Hair wet, and bright blue eyes that come alive.

I let the air cloud,
I let the windows fog.
I suffocate myself to hallucinate you.

Not obsessive,
Just passion filled.

I just want to love you,
I just want to hold you.
I want to wear your skin,
Feel you hot and fleshy around me.

I lay on the ground where you’ve walked,
I touch the areas you used to inhabit.
I still feel you here, I still feel you there.

I want to be hurt by you again,
I want to be bawling and weeping in love with you.

You’re obsessed,
I’m simply passion based.

You can’t hate me for that.

I want to be you,
I want to have you,
I want to be loved by you.

I’m obsessed,
Borderline obsessed.

And completely passionate.
About you.

I want to be tongue tied with you,
Not the way you’d think.
Not stumbling over words we could only dream of how to pronounce,
Not stuttering over the phrase ‘I love you’,
Not spitting out each other’s names every time we reach a high.

I want to be in knots with you,
Tongues twisted into each other,
I want to drool with you.

I want every word to come out in mumbles,
I don’t want anyone to ever understand us.
(Then again, they never did.)

I want to feel disgusted with ourselves,
I want to taste your last meal,
And I don’t care what it was.

I want to inhale your exhale,
I want to tangle uvulas together.

Sick, isn’t it?
Revoltingly simple.

I want our teeth to clash,
I wouldn’t even complain if we chipped one.
(The government can pay for our fillings.)

I want to feel your every taste bud tasting mine.
I want to do a dna test with your spit,
Only to find out that we were past life lovers in each other’s bodies.

I want to scare everyone who dares to look our way,
We can mumble and groan like zombies.
We can grumble and moan like newlyweds.

I want to feel spit dripping down our chins,
I want to look stupid with you.

We can be all knotty,
Just slip yours into mine.

(Tongues, I mean.)

You stole my religion,
And left me faithless.
That’s what happens when you love so hard that you switch places.

I’m into *** and drugs,
Not a prayer in sight.

You’re into baptisms and bibles,
I bet you pray every night.

I used to be envious,
I used to covet thy neighbor,
But now: I don’t care.

I’m into cheating and lying,
I’ll never tell the truth.

You’re into virtue and life after dying,
You’re in the “battalion of youth”.

I’m the lost little lamb,
You’ve taken my place in the flock.

I’m lost to the wilderness,
You’re the sudden block.

I sleep with the snakes,
You can imagine the venom in me.

You sleep in the clouds,
You fly with angels so free.

I’m okay that I’m evil,
It’s alright to be bad.

I know the life you took from me,
I remember the life that I had.

I’m leaving the nest soon,
Mama bird will never know.

But soon my dark heart will consume me,
And eventually it’ll start to show.

For today, and one day only, limited edition!
I still love you.
And the crowd goes wild. (I’ve learned to tune out the boo’s too.)
But you heard it here first, for one day, and one day only.
I still love you.

My heart decided to come alive at the thought of you,
It got up and stretched, and let me tell you,
My heart has some serious arthritis.
It aches over you.

My butterflies came out of their cocoon at the thought of you,
They spread their wings, one by one, gaining momentum.
They’re bouncing off the walls in here!

My mind is quite cross with himself,
I flood the systems with memories of you,
Daydreams of you, and only thoughts of you.
My brain just might OD over the thought of you.
(But if that happens I know a guy that can help.)

Don’t even get me started on me.
That’s the crazy part.
I don’t think of you, I’m over you, I’m not in love with you anymore.
I thought I’d be fine.

But for one day!
And one day only!
Limited edition!
Half off!
Buy one, get two!
I still love you.

I’m ashamed,
I’m embarrassed,
I’m pathetic.
Aren’t I?

I want to be strong,
But I'm scared.
I’m absolutely terrified.

I don’t want to be alone anymore.

I feel weak for wanting someone.
I feel broken, I feel stupid.
I feel alone.

I want to be strong,
But I’m not.
I’m completely terrified.

I’m supposed to be ‘in love with myself’.
I’m supposed to ‘only need myself’.
I’m supposed to be independent.

I am independent,
I do love myself,
But I’m tired of it.

I’m tired of being alone.
Does that make me weak?

I’m sick of being alone,
Does that make me pathetic?

I don’t want to be alone anymore,
Does that make me lonely?

I’m so pathetic,
Aren’t I?

The reason I called at 12:14 am
Was not for casual small talk,
Or chit chat about the day,
Or even because I missed you.
It’s because I’m trying to fill my empty satisfactions.

The reason I text you back at any time in the day
Is not to check up on you,
Or to be with you,
Or even because I care about you.
It’s because I’m trying to fill my time.

I’m using you,
Sick, right?

The reason I reach out to you
Is not because “I still love you”,
Or to have and to hold you,
Or even because I, dare I say, miss you.
It’s because you’re so convenient.

Wanna know something even sicker than the latter?
I know that I’m using you,
I know that I’m some sadistic girl,
I know that I’m some kind of a messed up human.

The reason I lead you on
Is not because “I want you so bad”,
Or that I can only contract at the thought of you,
Or even because I desire only you.
It’s because you’re so easy.

The thing is:
I love it.

I love using you.
Frankly, It would be quite rude not to.

You’re just temporary,
Every breath you take is because I gave it to you,
Every step you take is because I showed it to you,
I created you.

I am your Goddess.
(When you think you’re a God.)
Silly me, silly you,
To think you would own me.

Silly us,
To think we’re in love.

But we know better than that.
We know that you’re just a temporary fix to a bigger appetite.
Let’s not think about that.

Let’s be silly,
Let’s be stupid,
Let’s be ignorant kids trying to love.

I hope that your every passing thought is of me and all we’ve lost.
I hope you lie awake thinking of the things we’ve done,
I hope you regret the monsters we’ve become.

I hope every wilting flower reminds you of me.
I hope I’m the only reflection in yours that you’ll see.

I hope you say my name in your sleep.
I hope you hold me in your heart like the secrets that you keep.

Eventually, hope dies.

But, this was a ******.
And your mouth is wet with lies.

Now my hope is dead,
And your hands are the bloodiest of red.

Today I told you I loved you.
I tried to be cool with it
And ease it into the conversation.

But those three words stuck out like a sore thumb:
I love you.

I wish I could say it again,
But I don’t want to overwhelm you.
I love you.

I can only hear those three words on repeat:
I love you.
Over and over.

I don’t really know what it means to love you,
But I know this.

I know that I think about you with every passing second,
I know that I always feel complete with you,
And I know that my day is never enough without you.

I love you.

I love you,
Every single piece,
I love you.

I love all your flaws,
In my eyes they create perfection.

I love your smile,
In my eyes they put heaven to shame.

I love your voice,
In my eyes symphonies could never compare.

I love you,
Every single part of you.

Can’t you see?
I care about you deeply,
I love you inevitably,
Is that wrong?

I confess that I love you,
And I don’t think I’ll ever stop.

My eyes close gently
Like butterflies finding peace.

My breathing is soft
Like the winds that move music.

On my back,
Covered with duvet,
I come alive.

Don’t you hear it?
The call to an ancient rhythm?

I start to dance.

My eyes clench shut
Like doors to an argument.

My breathing picks up pace
Like the smoke of heat in winter.

On my back,
Covered with sweat,
I come alive.

The dance begins:
It starts at my toes.

Clenching, curling,
Pirouette Princess.

Moves up my thighs,
Shaking, sliding,
Shimmy salsa.

My hands join in,
They create foreign mundras.

Massaging circles into soft flowers.
I’m blooming all over again.

The rhythm picks up pace,
The drum beats vibrations into my existence.

The process repeats,
Pirouette toes,
Salsa thighs,
And flowers blooming from fingertips.

Faster,
This time,
Faster.

My eyelids play movies I’ve never seen,
My breath hitches in my throat,
I’m coming alive.

Suddenly,
I feel everything all at once.

My head starts to spin,
The good kind of dizzy.

On my back,
Lifting up,
Soul leaving body in unspoken essence,
I’m coming undone.

In a estranged voice I’ve never known,
Your name leaves my parted lips.

The music stops,
The dance is complete,
And the petals wilt.

Fingertips sticky with nectar.
Or is it pollen?

Doesn’t matter—
It still tastes sweet.

I don’t want to pray about you.
Not because God and I are taking a break,
Not because I’m busy,
Not because I can’t close my eyes without blinking away tears.

But because I’m scared.
I admit it,
I’m scared.

I’m scared that God will take you from me,
I’m scared that he’ll smite me for loving you.

I’m scared that God will cast me out of your garden,
I’m scared that the snakes and I are tangled into each other.
(We’re unrecognizable. Who knows where slither starts and fingertips end.)

I’m terrified that God will tell me that you and I aren’t meant to be,
That we are abominations.
That this wasn’t a match made in heaven.

That we are slowly falling,
In love,
Back to earth,
With wings scorched black—

Please.
Don’t ask me to pray,
Or you just might catch me with my eyes wide open whispering sweet nothings to a God I’m fearful of.

I’m tired.

Why am I doing all the work?
Because I care?
Because I’m a woman?
Because I’m stupidly in love with you?

You’re crazy.

And I’m tired, tired of it, and
Tired of you.

Get up and help me.
Get up and put some effort into me.
Get up and kiss me for once.

You’re right.
We aren’t learning anything here,
But how selfless devotion is a waste of time.
You were right,
I’m not the girl for you.
(I never will be).

And
You’re definitely not the man I thought you’d be.

You taste like hypocrite.
You taste like dark stupid masculinity.
And, baby, it doesn’t taste sweet.

Let’s just hope you taste as sweet as you feel.

I’m not supposed to speak to you.
It’s this unspoken law.
This girl code,
This human silence.

So,
I let my poetry speak.
Let my words sing to you.
Let my stanzas sway you.

I miss you.
[Let me say that more poetically.]

My soul is longing for yours.
My heart is crying for you,
And the tears are the bloodiest of red.

I miss you.

This isn't anything new,
But I can’t tell you that,
You know I can’t.
It would go against everything that society programmed into me.
It would go against our very religion.
[and you know good and well that we aren’t the type to sin.]

So,
I’ll let my poetry speak.

I’ll never know if you’ll get this,
I’ll never know if you’ll read this,
But there’s the chance that excites me.
The hope,
The glimmer, and shine of aspiration.
It’s beautiful, isn’t it?

I’ll leave this here.
I’ll cast this poem into the world.
I’ll let it touch a million hands,
I’ll let it feel a million tears,
I’ll let the millions of people think that this is for them,
But maybe, just maybe,
We’ll know it’s only for us.

The words are only for us:
I miss you.

Poetically, I miss you.
What other way could I tell you?
What other way could I reach you?
I’m not sure, So till then,
I’ll write.

Will you be my Valentines?
                                                                                                                 No.


Oh, okay.

You rip my heart out of my chest,
Pink ruffles and all,
And crumble it up.

You swish swish swish it into the trash,
You feel so powerful.

It lays there,
Bottom of the barrel,
Crumpled and beat black and blue.

The pink ruffles are now zig zag bright red.
It wheezes out in desperation.

I scramble to the bin,
Trying to scavenge the leftover pieces.

I pick through the trash,
I look ridiculous,
But I can fix this.

My fingers run over broken glass,
Paper, and even banana peels.

I find it,
The last remnants of my beating heart.

It’s still crumbled up,
But this can work.

I start from image.

I steam press it,
Whisper it sweet nothings,
And kiss it back to life.

It beats.
It beats,
It’s beating.

My heart is alive once more.

Will you be my Valentines?

Yes, heart, I will.

You’re angelic.
Sitting there by the window,
The light hits you, gently.
You’re glowing.

Absentmindedly playing with your fingers,
You’ve captivated my attention.
You smirk, side-eyed cocky,
As if you know what you’re doing to me.

You lean back in your chair,
Be careful not to fall.

As you push toward,
I notice the bracelets on you,
Colorful.
You’re something different.

You’re quiet,
But only I can hear you.
Speak,
Let the melodious tune ring.
Let me hear you.

You’re shy,
A gem hidden in the rough.

I see you,
Like no one ever has before.

I feel you,
In a way that no one ever could.

This is different.
I’m in love with an angel,
but I can’t fly.
You won’t fall for me,
I can’t reach that high.

I’m in love with an angel--
And God, I wish I could fly.

Break up with your girlfriend,
Shatter her heart in two.
Make her cry every night,
Make her hurt over you.

Leave her today,
Tonight, or the ‘morrow.
Abandon her and leave her laden in sorrow

Make her drown in her tears,
Make her shake with her cries,
Break her, break her,
Break her down with your lies.

Come back to me,
I can love you forever.
Come back to me,
And we’ll be together.

One kiss,
One kiss,
Is all I ask.

To honor the present and remember the past.

One kiss will do no harm,
Where’s the shame in that?
Kiss me once and maybe the memories will flood back.

Break up with your girlfriend,
Leave her for me.
Make her feel so worthless,
All while we feel so free.

You know you want to.
Don’t deny yourself this.
Break up with your girlfriend,
Break her with one kiss.

Make her never forget.
Make her never lose sight.
That love is sadistic,
And so are we, right?

Where did I go wrong?
Was it when burnt rubber filled the cold morning air?
Or was it laid against you with your fingers lost in my knotted hair?

Where did you go wrong?
That's something only the universe knows.
Broken, twisted, beautiful--that's how the heart grows.

Ask again: Where did you go wrong?
The answer is in the breeze.
The answers are in the trees.
The answer is not you, but me.

Where did we go wrong?
We watered the weeds growing in our flowerbeds.
We simply left the stove on, and the house burnt red.
We danced in the streets, only to be dead.

Tell me—
Was our love wrong?

To those in search of my heart, you won’t find it.

Not here at least,
I hid it,
No offense to you.

It is locked behind doors of thick bone,
Tucked under flexing armor of muscle,
And secured away in the silky depths of my skin.

But,
I see yours is ripe for the taking.
Plump and precious,
Pulsing it’s sweet red juices,
It’s taunting me.

Why haven’t you hidden it from me?

This isn’t a joke,
I’m deadly,
I’m a predator to hearts like yours.

But, since it is there.
I’ll take it.

I’ll take it in my palms,
I’ll sink my nails into it,
I’ll lap up the love it drips.

Tastes like honey.
Sweet, so sweet, so yummy.

I’ll press it to my lips,
I’ll line it with my tongue,
And pierce it with my teeth

The way it beats for me drives me wild.
I can taste your rhythm.

You’re not naive or ignorant.
You’re just in love,
How could I not take advantage of that?

You’re weak,
And I’m strong.
So, let me take care of you.

You’re sad,
And I’m here.
Just give yourself to me.

I’ll take precious care of the heart fruit you bare.
I promise.
You’ll be safe with me.
You’ll be happy,
Content,
And satisfied.

But, eventually, heart broken.

I am yours.
All of me,
Every single last inch.

I am hers,
All of me.
Down to the last inch.

I am his,
All of me.
Including every inch—

I’m sorry.

My heart is yours,
My heart is hers,
And my heart is his.

Can’t you see?

My love comes in the most powerful pattern of three’s.

I’m sorry.

I love you.
I love her.
I love him.

You can’t make me decide,
You can’t make my heart shatter once or let alone two times,
Please don’t make me cry.

My love is for you, all of you.
My love is for her, all of her.
My love is for him, all of him.

Yet, my heart creates separate beats for each.

I have three hearts, one that loves you fully.
One that cares so deeply.
One that wants you completely—
Is that not enough?

Tears brim your eyes as you bite your lip.
Face scrunched in pain, you hold your pillow.
Rolled onto your side, you pray.

She hurt you.
She really did a number on you.

You grunt an ancient language that only heartache speaks.
You are starting to become fluent again.

We don’t speak her name, but she is etched into your memories.
We don’t speak her presence, but she is engraved into your being.

You pray harder, hoping that maybe it will put your pieces back together.
Your hands are clasped so tightly that your knuckles praise white.

She never cared for you,
She never loved you,
But who am I to know?

You’re alone again,
Sad.
You’re alone again,
Content.
You’re alone again,
Mad.

You don’t have to be alone anymore.
I want to be there for you,
I want to care for you.
I want to mend your aching heart,
When you said that no one ever has before.

I thought to myself,
Maybe it’s time to start.

I did it.
I looked at her account,
I saw the pictures of you and her together.
I did it.

I told myself not to,
But, I’m still as stubborn as you left me.
Nothing’s changed.

Wait— scratch that.

Everything’s changed.

Nothing is how you left it,
And it never will be.

I’m something different now,
And I’m sure you are too.

I’m sure you’re happy and safe.
That’s all I could ever want.

But,
Remember how I said everything’s changed?

Well, it really has.

I collect rainwater now, I bathe every full moon, I dance in sunlight naked.

Crazy, isn’t it?

I sing songs without knowing the lyrics, I recite poetry upside down, and I create life with my left hand now.

I’m not the girl you left behind,
I’m her, sure.
But,
Not exactly though.

My hair is shorter, specifically on one side.
My stride is bigger, I have nothing to weigh me down now.
And my smile is as bright as ever.

It took you leaving for me to find the light within myself,
It took you leaving to show me that I don’t need anyone else to be happy.

So, thank you.

I wish you could see me now,
I think you’d be proud.

I think I still love you,
It might be just a glitch.
It may just be the last shred of you separating from my soul or it may just be the flashing image of you finally leaving me.
It has to be something.
It has to be.
I can’t love you.
I can’t—
Not anymore.

I saw your keys,
It had my creation.

I saw your car,
It had my impression.

You still carry my memoir.
I’m still with you,
But why?

There has to be a reason,
There has to be.
Because you’re over me,
I swear you are.
You have her, and you’re happy.

You’re happy, right?

Please tell me that you are,
Please tell me that she’s everything I’m not.

Tear me down,
Please tear me down,
Break me again.

Because I can’t keep breaking myself over you.
I can’t keep gluing myself back together only to shatter it twice more.

It hurts,
It aches,
My heart is in ruins again.

I swear I’m over you,
I was,
But you keep bringing me back to life.

I saw the way your eyes lit up with me,
I saw the smile I gave you,
I felt the love we shared.

Can’t you see?

This isn’t a game,
We can’t be friends,
Never again.

Because friends don’t feel this way,
I think I’m still in love with you.

And sometimes (sometimes) I wish it would it go away.

In my fantasies,
The dark and deep,
Where fog pools at our feet,
And the cries echo in the distance,
And sigh in defeat.

You wait for me,
Standing in all your glory,
Laying out in all your pride,
You stare me down,
Hot and heavy,
With lust burning in your eyes.

You reach for me,
Fingers stretch,
You groan for me,
With slight hums under your breath.

Your skin meets mine,
The sparks erupt,
It's perfect,
Heavenly even.

You're my muse,
My inspiration,
My reason is you.

You hold my waist,
Nails digging in,
You lean,
Lips pursed,
We kiss,
Gently.

You press,
Harder, harder,
I bite your lip,
Breaking skin,
Breaking everything,
We sin.

I lay there happy and content,
In between the two,
Arms wrapped around me.
Smothered with love.

I sigh in warmth,
In between the others,
Limbs tangled,
Skin touches skin.
Filled with love.

He loves me, I love him.
She loves me, and I love she.

We tighten the bond,
Me being the knot,
It seems unbreakable.

The world outside wouldn’t understand.
That hearts can beat synchronized.

After all,
A couple is three.

You confuse karate with love.
You punch, kick, and block.
You master the form,
Practice and practice.
You remember the creed.
Karate is not love.
You don’t kickstart the heart,
You can’t block love out,
Or punch it into submission.

I confuse love with poetry.
I read, write, and dream.
I master the edict of the pen,
Recite and recite.
I remember the sonnets.
Poetry is not love.
You don’t stanza the heart,
You can’t make a metaphor out of love,
Or personify it into breathing.

When will we learn?
When will you stop kicking Cupid?
When will I stop serenading him?
When will we stop this silly interpretation of love?

I don’t know,
But I’ll stop if you stop too.

I love you--
I have no other ways to say it.
I've never felt like this for anyone else before.
We could say it's a dumb infatuation,
Or maybe it has grown into something more.

All I can do is write, write, and write.
All I can do is confess my love for you.

But even then,
Poets run out of words too.

I can’t keep giving you this favor you asked for.
I can’t keep this promise I made to you.
I’m sorry.

I’m breaking everything.
I’m shattering glass,
I’m tearing down walls,
And I am unapologetic.

I didn’t mean for it to escalate this far,
But then again,
Here we are.

I can’t keep this promise,
My skin just wants to break free.

I can’t keep giving you this favor,
My skin just wants to be against yours.

I am ripping your poems to shreds,
I am slashing tires to your sweet ride,
I am breaking the gazes between us.
I am unafraid.

I can't keep loving you,
This stupid schoolgirl crush.

I am walking over our memories,
Crushing the seeds you grew in me.

I am destroying the thought of you,
I am rendering love identical with night.

Tears don't stain my eyes,
Neither does pain.
So don't act surprised.

I am dancing again,
I am singing once more,
And I am not in love.

I am the moon once more,
I am the sun again,
And you aren't the stars.

You aren't the reason.
You aren't my rhyme.
You aren't a poem,
Let alone mine.

You're just a shell of a man that I once loved.
Even then, you're still empty.

God made a masterpiece,
God made a masterpiece,
God made a masterpiece when he made me.

I don't need your watermark,
Or your method of strokes.
I've got it all.

I don't need honey pastels to drip down me,
I'm already twice as sweet.

I don't need diamonds to coat my neck,
I already shine as bright as the stars.

I don't need a crown upon my head,
I already know my worth.

I am the daughter of a king.

I've got angel wings buried in my shoulder blades.
I've got halos hidden in my hair.
God made me perfect.

Don't you dare try to color me in,
Don't you dare try to rearrange my pieces,
Because God made a woman out of me.

I've got grace,
Beauty, and
A word filled tongue.
What more can I need?

I've got lavender lily hips,
I've got rose bud budding lips,
I've got a thorn-filled heart as well.
What else can I be blessed with?

Woman is beautiful,
God gave me beauty.

Woman is smart,
God gave me brains.

Woman is strong,
God gave me bravery.

He made me vivacious,
Curvy, curly,
And passionate.

God gave me everything,
Why would I need you?

He made me a Woman.
He made me a masterpiece.
So, why change that?

You're not the subject of my dreams.
You don't haunt my sleeping thoughts.
You don't exist in my mindless slumber.
You've disappeared from the dreamscape.
You've escaped existence.

In place of you,
Another figure rises from the incandescent air.
As if you were never there,
The figure smiles.

You're not the stranger I once knew.
You're a blur in time.
You're the glaring of lights.
You're the whisper of secrets.
I don't know you anymore.

In place of you,
Another strange thing taunts me.
As if you never existed.

You're no religion to me anymore.
Unholy, unbroken, and unseen.
You're not Godly anymore.
I can't pray to you.
You’re a bad religion.

I can’t read you anymore,
Slowly tracing you with my fingers,
I can’t read between your lines--
I don’t know you.

So, who are you?
Where have you been?
Why don’t you haunt me anymore?
Up in smoke.

It's late.

Moonlight seeps into the room through the tiny cracks of dusty blinds.
It illuminates everything.
Touching the books on the shelf,
Caressing the plush carpet,
And landing ever so delicately on the girl knelt at the foot of her bed.

Her eyes are held shut,
Tears leak down the sides of her face,
Fogging her glasses.

Her arms are folded,
She's reverent,
And her head is bowed.

She breathes in and out with the sound of the fan waving overhead.
Her heart beats to the crack of the house settling beneath her knees.
She prays.

The cars drive by her house unknowingly,
The lights dash across the walls.
It doesn't distract her.

The buzz of her night light hums a mesmerizing tune,
Sweetly melodic.
She smiles through the tears.

The faint talk of another muffled through the walls,
She stays kneeling.

The tears don't stop streaming as the heavens open to her.
She raises her face to the ceiling,
Eyes still shut.
She sighs.

Kneeling there,
patiently,
She waits for a sign.

Outside a storm is brewing,
The rain begins to pour.
The thunder is lowly roaring,
Lightly tapping at her door.

Yet, nothing moves her.

She stays in place,
Still knelt,
Still praying with tears upon her face.

She sighs.
Bows her head once more,
And still held shut her eyes.

Some say she recites the Lord's Prayer.
Or perhaps a Psalm.
But maybe she just kneels, patiently waiting, staying calm.

"God, are you there?"

Last night, I waited.
I waited today.
I waited tomorrow.
I waited ‘till my days were filled with nothing but sorrow.

Last night,
I waited ‘till
My eyelids were held open by thoughts of you.
‘Till the grass was glowing iridescent with dew.

Last night,
I waited for you.

My dreams were filled with tears.
My night was filled with fear.
In constant dread, I wait.

I wait for you.
Days to weeks.
Weeks to months.
Months to years.

I soon turned to dust.
Leaving my aching bones crushed.
In my grave--
I rest, silently.
Patiently, and desperately waiting for you.
To join me too.

Hush.
I used to think you were Godly.
I used to think you were velvet.
I used to think you were perfect.
Shh.
You’re nothing now.
Silence.
You’re pathetic now.
You’re only a feeble boy playing God.
You’re only a quaint thing pretending to be holy.

I used to worship you.
I used to pray to you.

But now you pray to me.
“Oh poetess God.”
Now you worship me.
“Oh sweet Holy One.”
And don’t you dare forget it.

When I say, you, I mean him.
When I say, him, I don't mean you.
Got it?

You are nothing, but the past now.
You are nothing, but a memory fleeting.
You are nothing, but everything deleting.

When I say, love, I mean him.
When I say, him, I mean love.
Don't you get it?

You aren't in the picture anymore.
You aren't in my life anymore.

You're everything, but relevant.
You're everything, but present.
Can't you see?

You aren't welcome here anymore.

When I say, poem, I mean him.
When I say, him, I mean poem.

Now this one, this one right here, is about you.

I love you,
But I can't go back.

And when I say, back, I mean back to you.

Curse you!
I wish I never knew you!
I wish you weren't here!
I hate you.

You hurt me every day,
You embarrass me in every possible way.

You malicious thing.
Pain is the only gift you bring.

Rip it out. Please.
Rid me of this human disease.

I take the knife,
And rip you out.

You'll never beat again,
You hideous heart.

I'll rip you to shreds,
I'll tear you apart.

When specks of ash float on the breath of the last great tree,
When the heat Scorches the final blade of grass to dust,
When the sun dares to rise again,
We will prevail.

When the ocean’s great white waves blow back black,
When the last leaf sways down to its final resting place,
When the clouds seem to always cry,
We will rise.

When the breeze whispers it's melodious secrets,
When the earth stops beating the drum of its heart,
When the water’s legato rhythm becomes jagged,
When the fire eats up everything that is left,
We will feast.

We will devour the last of mankind.
We will peel skin,
We will pick nails,
We will lick the very fingers that once fed us.

Unforgiving,
We take the young.

Heartless,
We watch them burn.

Happily,
We yearn for more.

In the end,
I rise to take my throne.
Stepping on empty skulls,
Snapping, cracking, and
Creaking to sit upon the empty wasteland of bones.

I smile,
Sitting back to admire my creation.
The birth of something new.
A perfect melody built just for you,
And this time, you better sing.

Shackled, and chained.
Yet,
I’ve never felt so free.
You’ve awakened this primal instinct in me.

Burned, and bruised.
Tormented, and used.
I'm yours to abuse.

I kneel,
At your feet,
Waiting for command.
Waiting for the slightest gesture granted from your hand.

I look down.
My hands in lap.
l am at your will,
Waiting for your finger’s snap.

With hair pulled back--
Gathered in your hands.

And cheeks warm--
Caressed by your voice.

Lips are wet--
Touched by yours.

Cleaning, and cooking.
Almost every day.
Folding, and preparing.
Doing whatever you say.

I'm yours;
I'm branded with your name.
I'm bonded to you,
No matter what,
And I stand unashamed.