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Jan 2017 · 707
twelve caesuras Jan 2017
i'm laughing at the spaces between your words and you're peeling a mandarin
and we're on my front porch, watching my neighbors fall out of love from the eyes of their house
while you give me a list of reasons why we should rent an RV and drive it into the ocean
"for fun," you say, as i comb your old lover's sighs out of your hair and weave mine in instead,
pondering ways to wedge enough ikkyu quotes into your vertebrae that you stand a little straighter the next time someone tries to tell you that you're going the wrong way. "that's exactly
where i want to go," i hope you say. but right now you want to drink dolphin tears and make out with mermaids and other weird ****, so i'm trying to figure out how much of my soul i have to sacrifice to poseidon for a bra made of clams and the ability to breathe underwater.
Jan 2017 · 620
no sleep galaxy
twelve caesuras Jan 2017
i haven't slept in a couple of days so
i've been seeing constellations in every face
a vicious, viscous quietness creeping into every hollow space.
celestial bodies collide in my veins: hemoglobin and
mangoes and a chest gently torn open by
the gravity that pulls me through. i've
climbed trees on planets i've never been to,
dined on cosmic lychee and other starry fruits.
i met an extraterrestrial the last time i looked
at my reflection, but my eyes carry jupiter
in times of abjection—i don't believe i'll see her again
so i'll ignore my pretty mouth, trace the crop circles on my palms
instead. kubla khan built a pleasure dome from sound
while i supped on the sun, we hung around
and drank honey from a violin
while jesus christ and shakyamuni sang 'kashmir' by led zeppelin.
i lived outside the walls of clocks, and when i inhaled time
i choked (the anthropic principle is kind of a joke). finally, i
fell asleep when we all coalesced with the andromeda galaxy
because the universe is a dreamscape of human anatomy.
Dec 2016 · 386
a letter to myself
twelve caesuras Dec 2016
you can wait for the sun to rise
or you can seek it with every atom of your existence
until the soles of your shoes have been torn off by the asphalt
and you reek of salt, and intention, and purpose.
you can look for a cure in the same bottle
where you found the poison, or
you can shatter the bottle, take one of the shards
and cut out the tumor that formed in your chest, then
mail it to the person that gave it to you, along with a list of
grievances that include the hospital bill.
you can dig a ditch six feet under the ground, put on your sunday best
and rub yourself over with mud,
or you could politely show your enemies the bottom of it,
and the health benefits of shutting the hell up.
you can hate yourself,
or you can realize that the only reason you do
is because your mother raised you to be weak,
so you can look her in the eye
as you break all of your bones, laughing.
Dec 2016 · 618
the anthropic principle
twelve caesuras Dec 2016
she is an astronomically shattered spectacle with a grin upon her face,
serenity salvaged from suffering,
humbled by her pain.
her memories tinged dark by rotting apples and condensation from neglected glasses of water leaving rings on the wooden dining room table.
the shadowed corners of her childhood home gave her more love than her mother did, embraced her, kept her warm in their ninety degrees. waiting for godot was more lucrative than waiting for mom to come home, and the nights were like the older siblings that played with her out of pity.
she does not carry stars in her hair,  nor poems or planets.
she carries wounds, and rust, and self-abasement
because she has lived a life with more slings and arrows within a sea of troubles than any outrageous fortune could amount to,
a little girl's body cursed with an all too aged soul.
lulled to sleep by winds that carry whispers and cleave themselves to her atoms, singing odes to her defects.

she does not do work that makes her hands bleed, but her mind does in their stead,
palms smooth like the stones cast against her,
wrists smooth like the mountains she's been trekking.
within the confines of the universe, she exhales as dust and dirt tinge her tongue.
the millions of miles between stars are waiting for someone to walk their borders.
she is going nowhere fast.
Nov 2016 · 730
thoughts from the dawn
twelve caesuras Nov 2016
i wait within your amygdala to graft myself into your emotions—
you will feel for me what i cannot.
deviate from your daily devotions;
you are my sentimental argonaut.

i dance along the colorless borders of the home i call your languid embrace—
dipping my head towards yours, i sleep.
in my dreams, you and i are wrapped in lace;
awakening in an empty bed, i weep.

the dusk sends salutations with a smile from the moon and a wink from andromeda—
the sun shuts its heavy eyes and disappears.
amongst love and other strange phenomena
i live in your amygdala and consume your fears.
twelve caesuras Nov 2016
tonight i'll get drunk on stolen time
because i have nothing but stars left on the line
and wings to burn in a solar embrace
everybody's a devil or a deviant inside of this place

i saw it once, in a time of abjection
in which you gave me a direct venesection
your words flowed through my aorta, then subsequent arteries
"what a peculiar girl," you laughed heartily (ha ha ha)

i always confuse lazarus with lapis lazuli
because when i was young i was rather unruly
but they always told me that if i tried
i could find myself a spot in a cerulean sky

i am the wax that drips from thunderheads
and with my umbras and undulations i rouse the dead
they told me life flies by the longer you wait
so i burnt off its wings and locked it away
Nov 2016 · 468
twelve caesuras Nov 2016
you are lovely in the light diffused by the clouds
like bruises on an orange creamsicle,
wind playing games with our hearing:
i think i have always known you, it sings, its voice a syncretism of
yours and mine

the trees die extravagant deaths and autumn is both the murderer and the funeral procession, and i
can't help but laugh every time you say you've never felt weather this cold—wait until you kiss me, i think
because you are a desideratum of a desiduous tree, and i am
some kind of plummeting, some kind of fall
Oct 2016 · 343
twelve caesuras Oct 2016
all the branches of the trees started at the same place and i was all emerald jewels wrapped in blue velvet while she was amber steamed in grape leaves and she was teaching me how to count in turkish and i joked and said my gender was an angry swarm of bees and i fell asleep on her shoulder and felt her stroking my hair through my dreams
Sep 2016 · 556
cloud boy
twelve caesuras Sep 2016
you are
the sky at its best, when
all of the cloud tribes meet,
an amalgamation of sururrus societies
ancient civilizations mending together

a soirée in the stratosphere
icy eyed cirrus staring down
on the fluffy head of a cumulus
you are
the thousandth conversation and the  silence of
all nine hundred ninety-nine others

and i suppose i am your newest wound:
the sizzling **** of lightning that
desecrated this halcyon
Sep 2016 · 861
the song of ganymede
twelve caesuras Sep 2016
the plants that grew in my absence were
enough to make absinthe, and
                    ambrosia          bloomed
where my footsteps had left indentations
in the grass.

{     and i am beautiful enough
               to make the gods come down
                     but the games they play
          send rot to my rosy, thorny crown.     }

the talons of the mountainous beast
           that brought me to meet you, past the exosphere
                    dug           deep
into my flesh, leaving pretty pink scars
that wore your name.

*{     i never thought about living past the end of time
          nor filling cosmic chalices with mead
               but you thought me divine and told me so with hurricanes
          and stole me from earth with your greed.     }
Sep 2016 · 1.0k
a hound's holiday
twelve caesuras Sep 2016
within the small cavities of my sun-bleached bones dwell ghouls and goblins that
wear your face.

the obsidian tunes they grumble from disuse are reminiscent of some strange incantation
circled by salt and sage and chalcedony.

abraxas tought me arithmetic and wrote jade beneath my skin
on a naked nape
did he sign his name with new colors.

i heard peculiar whispers in my sheets last night,
for i am haunted
by ills that are not mine to take to bed.
Aug 2016 · 708
sordid cycles
twelve caesuras Aug 2016
if i could hold love in my hands
it would seep through and fall into someone else's, i think,
a viscous substance that forever changes shape, evolves,
drips into the lines of your palms and makes a home there
no matter how hard you scrub.

it would stay there even as you told yourself
that you were better off without it, greedily licking it off of your hands and hiding it under your tongue.

and when you finally forgot about it, or perhaps tucked it away in the recesses of your mind—
someone would brush against you in the crowd, their smile like a field of daisies, and the colors of their voice would begin to seep into your skin anew.
Apr 2016 · 426
a letter to my corpse
twelve caesuras Apr 2016
so this       is
       what        it's
to feel alive.       i

                             don't                believe


be                 meeting           for

                    some          time.
Apr 2016 · 1.7k
twelve caesuras Apr 2016
there are several small organs
within me
that i am sure
are filled with sweet candies,
carnations, and tiny, lost
bone fragments that pierce
my stroma and write
rings around my neck
as if i breathe the residue
of nebulas and circle
toxic giants in
the cold
in the dark

several things
live in the cracks
of the walls of my
old volumes and
dusty globes that creak
as they whirl
rusted blades and paper
a thousand shards of glass,
like a tiny section
of the
galaxies i'll never meet
grafted into my skin

drop dead sang the chorus
but antigone never
Apr 2016 · 458
twelve caesuras Apr 2016
i made it back into my body and
celebrated with the summer rain
i danced with lightning
and i sang with thunder

oh, this is what it's like
to be home again
Apr 2016 · 885
girl with velvet voice
twelve caesuras Apr 2016
there is some kind of atrophy
in her eyes
a chaotic mystery
voice made of dark blue suede
maps for hands and an
eye of the storm
kind of mouth

she leans against
the decaying pillars of
laughs quietly at the
rubble at her feet
she penned an elegy for
dedicated to the antithesis
of being,

it began

it began with the first
to me
Jan 2016 · 582
twelve caesuras Jan 2016
ten fingers grasp for something that
          isn't there.
i miss the days when i didn't care.
now every ******* breath is nothing but a travesty.
my muscles and mind fall
          into atrophy.

a certain dread permeates the
the hundred thousand sighs melt into a lull.
chapped lips dance in an amaranthine quiver.
nothing is cold, but there's always
          a shiver.

the sun has reared its abhorrent head one too many
i watch the bleak horizon confess its bitter crimes.
the water stands still, and it is here that i drift.
i whirl, i break, i fall
          into the rifts.
Jun 2015 · 716
confession booth
twelve caesuras Jun 2015
i still wish
     santa claus    existed


    so   much

to believe     in than


i liked the    easter bunny
       a lot more

                 than jesus

because he         gave me


but the      son

            god      was


                to give

Jun 2015 · 728
iridescence of mind
twelve caesuras Jun 2015
the thunderstorms that i live underneath
leave a buzz in my head and lightning in my teeth.

suburban kingdom from which i hail:
your fractured image is growing pale
and though your arms grow white and thin
i sometimes recall you if i've had enough gin.

they say it's best to leave the past behind
but i never had the presence of mind.

you know, sometimes i think i shine
if i've had enough *****, if i've had enough wine
you know, sometimes i see the sky
if i cut out my tongue and open my eyes.
twelve caesuras May 2015
welcome to the land of best friends that **** you and mothers that hate you.
it looks a lot like the central east coast, where most of us can hide our daggers within the layers of our skin / central east coast, where the junkies are fat and the lines run thin / central east coast, where the saints lead their followers by way of cardinal sins.
this is where insomniacs come to get their fix, and count the hundred hours as their lives slide tick-tock-tick-tock-tick.
i don't need sleep because i want to die young, i won't let the sandman lay dormant in my lungs.

welcome to the land of hate yourself or everyone else.
it looks a lot like the skeletons of castles that crumbled from age and 10 year siege battles.
this is where ouroboros comes to socialize / it's forever waiting for us and for the lackluster gems in our eyes / it's forever waiting for our monochrome to colorize.
i don't know one thing about logic or rationality, but i do know about coke and *** and i love what they do to me.

welcome to the land of compassionate killing / their irises are greying, their guts are spilling / they're screaming, it's chilling, it's thrilling, i'm willing to listen / swallowing air isn't very filling.
it looks a lot like thoughts blown out of our heads onto the wall, the scent of red pennies drenches us all and our cheeks are rosy and our ******* are wet and our skin is hot and i think my veins are tied in knots, i'm seeing spots
i'm seeing spots.
twelve caesuras May 2015
i can't
watch television because
there is a buzz that
echoes after every chord of
a sad electricity
a familiar aggression
that reminds me of
my mother

i have to
watch television because
sometimes, when the sun is
it is too **** quiet
in the empty room of my

you be peter pan
i'll be
i'll be
i'll be
whisk me away
i'd say that i don't
want to grow up but
i think i need to grow

at night, sometimes
if i hear the floorboards creak
all of my joints
unhinge and i
can't run away
don't flinch
don't fear
don't feel

i do believe in fairies i do i do
it's enough iridescence to
distract me
from the
goblins and ghouls
and the
lovers and lions

once i met a maniac
her teeth stained from
too much red wine
it's good for your heart
it's good for
your heart
captain ******
filth dolled up in michael
sell your soul to
any eligible
pompous, naive *****
infinity an hour
you've got to pay up front

my skull's a cavity
sugar rush sugar rush
train crash brain crash
chew chew, blow
cyanide bubblegum

i might be too
old to believe in fairies
but i'm too young to
stop believing in
but HE was the first
naive *****
that she let
Apr 2015 · 624
twelve caesuras Apr 2015
in the coldest second season,
i had knots in my shoulders
and i didn't grow older
but oh, i was wiser
i still couldn't decipher the
twists in my neurons so though
my brain was barren i bloomed
cloth-of-silvers and saffron
and their roots were embedded
in my neck and my shoulders
and oh, it was colder
and so, i was colder

and when the chimes dance across our eardrums
could their path be measured with the pythagorean theorem?
so blow, and blast and break and bend and binge and
when they call out, please don't cringe, they'll call they'll call they'll call
and you'll have to answer

i ignore the phone and hide under the covers every time it rings
no one is coming for me, and i'm tangled in those blackened strings
that swing around my neck and swallow all of my limbs
that hope to keep me immovable when i finally hope to swim

when i breathe in deep
the frigid springtime air
the bees and trees and petals
fix into my hair
but when i peer into the dark,
are all those creatures waiting there?
golden shears become a friend
as i blow and blast and break and bend
are all those creatures waiting there?
are they? are they?

and when the white wooden closet door creaks open
you know they've learned your amygdala has been broken
it's a broken record, skip skip re-re-re-repeat
silly girl, there has to be earth in all that dust you eat

and darling don't be alarmed, for they mean you no harm
-we just want you to suffer, to suffer, to suffer
i drove through this place called the united mental states
then they locked me out of the good ones, shifted my tectonic plates

i could never love myself
like they wanted me to,
sitting stale on the shelf, brown eyes
mold from green to blue
throw me away, oh throw me,
i don't know i don't know i don't know me
so as i surrender to my evident decomposition
i hear your voice sing this is but the bare

and the sirens wail, oh they wail,
how they drown me out, they drown me out,
they darken my veils and they drown me

and i am terrified of the numbers that i could become
i hope they fill my urn with cherry candy and red chrysanthemums
i am an unsolvable equation with far too many unknowns
and too many songs of binary for anyone to decode

and when the ball is thrown across the universe
do you think it stops to contrast its size with jupiter?
relax, silly girl, relax, relax
it doesn't take much calculation when you have your xvovat

in the coldest second season,
i had knots in my shoulders
and i didn't grow older
but oh, i was wiser
but oh, i was wiser

but oh, i was wiser
Apr 2015 · 1.0k
twelve caesuras Apr 2015
i woke up with ghosts around my neck and
drenched in gasoline,
stay for you, go for me,
i'm forever in between
please take hold of my withering soul
it is tired, it is small and it is quivering cold
when we met it was autumn, your eyes were filled with gold

i can't breathe, don't go
are they moving too fast or am i going too slow?
please, please, please, i know
you glance with ease through the masks i show

i woke up with an axe in my head and
cyanide between my teeth
and a vacant little smile
with rotten gums underneath
please, oh please make me exist
rip away the matches, unravel my fist
sing every galaxy into my wrist

i can't think, please stay
grow flowers in my lungs as my mind decays
please, please, every day
this girl in the mirror wants to take my life away

i woke up with a noose around my neck and
dirt on my tongue,
don't worry about it,
i'll always be young
please, i'm going down
did i really die if no one heard the sound?
no one hears your weeping when you're six feet underground
Apr 2015 · 615
twelve caesuras Apr 2015
end me
they said silly girl, you had all that tar in your mouth and you think now you can complain about your voice turning black?
oh end me end me end me GOUGE MY EYES OUT
maybe i'm extraterrestrial... or something
i couldn't have come from here! you're all the strange ones! im sane im same im sane imsaneimsaneimsaneinsaneinsane
maybe i'm extraterrestrial! oh, that makes me sound beautiful
as if i rose from the fallout of a nebula... or something
they said evil girl, does your heart even beat? WHY AREN'T YOU SPEAKING?
shoot me please, i don't care where
im my own era at this point,
something like the great depression, except i was always broke(n)
we could call it the death of a quasar, it's not like
they're close enough to watch it happen,
maybe im that distant galaxy, maybe my coffin is a spaceship
maybe i don't exist... or something
i mean, i'm empty so aren't i just a corpse? how does someone qualify to be a zombie? i'd win that pageant

stab me stab me stab me stab me
hidden wonders! two short hours!
i thought fine was how you were supposed to answer!
everyone else does it and they're just like me
(dead inside, pretending not to be)!
definition of human at this point
clawing clawing clawing digging no more ships they've all sunken like our eyes, drunken stupor
they said foolish girl, what is this shadowed humor?
keep on laughing, you've got no future

oh well oh well
at least i don't exist sometimes
all my fingers were blown off and my teeth were ripped out and my bones were shattered and my organs all imploded!
when i go the planet turns the same way
like i wasn't there like i wasn't there
wait, what's your name again?
Apr 2015 · 863
daydream: nightdrive
twelve caesuras Apr 2015
it's raining.
          it's raining and i think you're driving, maybe i am, but all that's for sure is that the clock says 12:32 and wild is playing and god, you look so beautiful as you hum i believe that i can make you scream. i don't know where we're going. it doesn't matter. the city is fading away, the blurred metal pillars only blurring further.
          we can only see so far ahead of us, the rain making the road into a strange ocean, lit by the two streams of our brights. i have an idea, one of us say. i think it's me. what is it? you ask, with starlight and interest in your voice. let's dance, i say, and in the next moment, we have pulled into the open field beside the road. you turn the volume of the radio until the air is thrumming with sound, and we dance in the rain, illuminated by the high beams. thousands of tiny rainbows soak into us, plastering our clothes to our bodies and our hair to our skulls. you take my hand and we spin like whirling dervishes and just when i begin to feel dizzy, you take me by the waist and kiss me. and kiss me. and kiss me.
          i feel like i am drowning in you, your taste convoluted by the warm, wet tears of the sky: earl grey. colors are dancing behind my eyes and there are a thousand songs i could be writing about these epiphanic moments but all i can really do is breathe through you and feel.
          you're shining, you say to me.
          so are you, i reply.
Apr 2015 · 673
twelve caesuras Apr 2015
we lost our skulls
in all of those wars
and we've only got fragments left,
keeping in our thoughts
our thoughts that ruin us

they gouged out our eyes
said we didn't need them
'cause we couldn't see the big picture
they wore rings and one is stuck
in my left cavity

we drown our pains
because we can't drown ourselves
even though the stones we collected in youth
fit so well in our pockets,
fit so well

they poisoned our quiet,
made us toxic
it's not our fault
it's not our fault
you know that, don't you?

we were held captive
starved out and beaten, though we didn't mind
only fed lies and half truths
through the bars
we steeled ourselves

they tied us to stakes
said we could never be kings,
said we were peasants in pretty clothes
with pretty faces
and ugly souls

we bandage ourselves
with hope and grit
but sometimes hope and grit
can't stop the bleeding

they aimed at our necks
aim higher, we said
so they did and
broke our brains

amidst the skeletons
of the empires we once were
there are twelve thousand graves
for the dreams that lost their lives
in every battle with our aggressors
and though we never had a chance
we have twelve thousand reasons
to rise against our lofty dictators and gods
Apr 2015 · 541
twelve caesuras Apr 2015
they will split me open
and find you in my bones.
your breath will be
the majority of
the composition
of my blood,
your sighs stuck to
the insides of my lungs.
in my hands will be
your fingerprints
and on my shoulders
there will be love songs
my hair will be tangled
and your scent will be
carried in it
and every embrace we've
ever shared will find
themselves as ghosts
on my arms;
your voice will be
wedged between my spine,
wavelengths written
between my shoulder blades
and if they ever
open my eyes
your silhouette will be
dancing there
but perhaps it won't happen
that way
because i feel that i could live forever as long as i can fold into you
Apr 2015 · 883
twelve caesuras Apr 2015
oh, oasis
sunken faces
faded places
i'd go anywhere with you

in this desert
i am hurting
torrid weather
i'm deserving

oh, oasis
my blood races
color changes
it goes blue to red to blue

when you found me
my skin cracking
thoughts were blurry
words were lacking

oh, oasis
how you saved me
i was wasting
still, you craved me

when you found me
how you smiled
any distance
a million miles

how you saved me
how you saved me
oh, you braved me
my oasis
Apr 2015 · 645
ms. milky way
twelve caesuras Apr 2015
the first thing i noticed were her eyes
two black holes,
framed by tortoiseshell glasses
as if you could take the unknown
and give it astigmatism
to make it more approachable.
if i got close, i could see stars
whirling around within her and i
spent my time calculating
centripetal motion to see
if i was small enough to revolve inside
the ever widening paradox of spacetime
known as her -4.00 vision.
next was her voice, the most alluring
rendition of saturn's rings to ever exist
but i was just neptune, cold and
blue and far away
and sometimes our words were lost
in the spaces between us.
so i wrote her into poems and
they reached her by way of comets
and she sent back meteors that
crashed through my mind for centuries,
eternities afterwards.
i was only an astronomer
in love with the boundless cosmos of her mind
her soul, her body.
i sat at all hours of the dark,
in the desolate plains in which i could see her best
gazed into her and let the silence sing love songs.
her skin was caramel, her hair the night sky
she called me atlas, and i fit
in one of the gaps of her abyss
and i'd spin for light years through it
just to stay safe inside of her,
keep her company.
Apr 2015 · 621
twelve caesuras Apr 2015
there's a girl that loved me in another dimension. i saw her drawing asterisks but the stars in her voice are what drew my attention. a glance into a telescope would be like looking at her portrait. oh, she's gorgeous. so call me callisto and catch me in orbit. i know i won't reach her but i swear that it's worth it.
twelve caesuras Apr 2015
i don't know what i'm—****
i don't know what i'm doing,
****, you all are standing still
am i the only one moving?
oh, ****, is anyone else still dancing?
****, this is depressive,
i got an MDD in school and it's really ******* impressive
just look at my **** credentials
GAD, SAD, PTSD, all of the essentials
(i am always fireworking
you've got to keep your hands busy when the dark starts lurking)


hello, i'm feeling low, i am the general
give me some ******* coping skills and make them mostly medical
hey there, ratty hair, i am the lieutenant
give me some ******* coping pills because i'm quite dependent
what's up, doctor love, i'm non-commissioned
give me some candy to fix my ills and all my sad conditions

i've got a tongue like the knives i miss
razor blade teeth cutting at the people that i love the most
their blood in my throat, i propose a toast
to the ever-sinning villain with a sharpening tongue
******* it all, i always wanted to die young
so let me meet the gallows,
it's either this or every ******* pill to ever be swallowed

i had so much ******* fun on the swings
but this is what you wanted,
guess who's ******* abstinent! guess whose mind is haunted!
clap for yourself, please, you did so **** well!
i don't care if you don't want me there,

i'll see your *** in hell
**** it all, *******, **** **** ****
if i **** well please then i will ******* self destruct

hey g, don't worry about me, i'm fine. i wrote this in the hospital and edited it today
Apr 2015 · 1.1k
twelve caesuras Apr 2015
always wanted to go drug induced comatose
amygdala to the frontal lobe, brainsleep from coast to coast
by imperfect practice i am the unspecific ocean

always wanted to go drug induced comatose
swallow it all, this month's 18th overdose
dissociative behavior? there's nothing to diagnose
maybe there's a demon dwelling in my y chromosome
maybe that's why i haven't been going home
either way, doesn't matter, internalize internalize
keep the words in your mouth and let it cloud up your miiiiiiiind

always wanted to go near death soporose
blind date with an acura feeling rather bellicose
the fine print reads "objects are closer than they appear"
but i'm just a blur, i hope i don't show up in the mirror

*always wanted to go near death soporose
call me roadkilla, let my body straight decompose
when they find me, maybe they'll look a little lachrymose
though before death their lives and mine were juxtaposed
happiness versus every meaning of morose
die like a star because my whole life was nebulose
"we'll watch your back," they promise, if they are so inclined,
but what a promise to make when they've all gone blind.
Apr 2015 · 578
velvet: volume i
twelve caesuras Apr 2015
wine glass woman
slim figure, trim disposition
(use safety scissors to keep
your personality in check)
but banging on the glass
we're not open, miss
shall we call you a cab?
***** metal grates, moist
cigarette butts, the lights here
make everything strange
i'm not like this. i'm not
like this

smoke-eyed woman
haze walks, haze speaks
(rises and disappears, mingles
with the scents of ***** and urea)
but still upright, a piano never in tune
the grand baby grands will
always sing better than you!
the burn washes down the cold
shivers violent, violent words
cracks widen, plaster crumbles
i'm not like this
i swear it i swear
Apr 2015 · 511
twelve caesuras Apr 2015
di s    soc ia          ti
           ve b eh
     a        v             io              
                      r ? dis s          o
ci    ati        ve     b
             e      ha   v        ior?
d        i  
                       s     s    oci
      tiv             e be          ha
          vi        or? di            s    soc
        ia       tiv          e    b
e       h       a
                      v    io    r?
Mar 2015 · 858
world history of one girl
twelve caesuras Mar 2015
1: picture day
that little girl with glittery hairpins and pink courdoroy overalls, scuffed white tennis shoes, missing teeth but making up for it in width of grin—
she's gone now.
that little girl with razor blade teeth and fiery eyes who never really figured out how to *play nice

she's gone now.
that little girl with smoke stuck to her skin and her skin laid bare for anyone that will take the carbon dioxide from her cheeks and replace it with air—
she's gone now.
she's gone.
i'm gone.

2: recess
playing house is about
the saddest thing i ever did.
because when the school bus
dropped me off at home, my
play pretend mommy wasn't
waiting. so my mind raised
me and it liked to play and
it could sit around and ***** me
over every ******* day. but
sometimes the monkey bars and
i made a truce: maybe i won't
fall, bruise my knees, come home
to one more form of abuse. maybe
if i swing high enough to kiss the
clouds, i won't have to worry about
i learned young it's not too fun on
the ground. it's like one never ending

4: show and tell
the way your breath hitches when i bite your lip
oh, close those last few inches, oh, tighten your grip
seizes my body with shudders and sighs
if you—god, dig your nails deeper into my thighs
tell me your desires, ****, anything you please
i'll call you master and beg for you on my knees
i can show you the sun at its most intense
s-so, mmf, oh, please, call me your little pet

5: lunchtime
the clock reads 12:13 and her lunchbox
reads hello kitty in paradise, prayer beads
of sweat gather on the brow of the 11-year-old
antichrist that doesn't know how to attack
the tupperware container filled with rice
and sliced whatever, i mean, she'll never
eat it, but this is a monster and the only way to
defeat it before the bell rings is to forget the whisperings
around her, and oh god, how they surround her as
she stands, takes hello kitty's paradise into her hands
takes it to the garbage bin, is it a sin to throw it away?
it doesn't matter anyway, mommy said she's the antichrist
so cheese and rice or keys jangling and ice
clinking in the glass, what did you learn in class? she doesn't
past tense her i love yous but  know she's lying,
she works so hard, i know mommy is trying
flying back and forth from here and somewhere else
so i wait in hello kitty's paradise watching as her ice water melts

6: naptime*
i can't fall asleep, i can't fall asleep,
and when i do, who keeps me safe?
can i trust one friendly face in this
free-fire zone of a saddened place?

it's so lonely here with all these kids
that **** on silver spoons and roasted pigs
and with greasy thumbs, pacify themselves
hand the apple to the teacher—
oh, they're doing so well!*

lay down, they tell me, lay down
but didn't i say it's not too fun on the ground?
so my mind merry-go-rounds, it sways, it swings
maybe someday i'll forget these things.
Mar 2015 · 601
twelve caesuras Mar 2015
the new world is turning swift in my lungs
i've got a lot of rose-colored words hidden under my tongue
i think every day i fall in love with you a little bit more.
but i'll just bite my lip and grin each time you call me a bore.

darling, darling, yours is all i want to be
where do i begin to explain what you are to me?
i've got a lot of rose-colored words hidden under my tongue:
didn't i say the new world is turning swift in my lungs?

you are the air that i always needed to truly breathe
so even if i'm breathless, traces of you dance underneath
and if i could know your touch one time,
...i think i'd really lose my mind.

so make me yours and drive me insane
i mean, i guess i lost my sanity when you first said my name.
Mar 2015 · 497
I I I I I I—
twelve caesuras Mar 2015



Mar 2015 · 424
long division (÷)
twelve caesuras Mar 2015
hollowed, i think:
do as you're told.
don't follow me to the brink;
i won't be growing very old.
this emptiness isn't new
but since you don't pay attention, it is to you.
mountain folds are beautiful, as i've learned
but it's doubly picturesque to watch the papers burn.

recently, i've felt
that i'd quite like to wrap an asteroid belt
around my neck. suspend from the ceiling
as if there is no gravity, become a speck—
how are you feeling?
i'm not.

this is sentient depravity.
this is sentient depravity.
too much sugar
not enough cavities.

call me the horizon line
i'm just as immovable
everything's whirling

and where am i?
i'm fine. i'm fine.
i'm standing still.

soundless mind
soundless body
soundless soul





it was seventy-two degrees yesterday
and i am still freezing cold
Mar 2015 · 488
twelve caesuras Mar 2015
the fact that idk and kid share the same three letters
is really ******* funny,
and really ******* sad.

the fact that mommy doesn't know the most important things
is really ******* funny,
i hate you. i love dad.

the fact that mommy knows how to stab me in the heart and the back
while smiling and calling me honey
is really ******* sad.
want to know something funny? she's ******* driving me mad
twelve caesuras Mar 2015
you cried
in my arms today and i
couldn't do one ******* thing to make the pain go away.
Mar 2015 · 445
the irrationality of being
twelve caesuras Mar 2015
this is not a relapse.
i have always been this way.
but you were doing
          so well,

they told me.
i only made a new mask
one with a wider smile and a
          louder laugh,

colder eyes.
but they're stuck in summer so
i might just be air conditioning.

i'm home, i whisper,
because no one ever waits
no one ever waits.
maybe i should stop hoping the
lights flick on for me.

the mob of faceless people
are shouting with mouths that don't exist,
ringing in my ears, and

it's different now
i don't want to go. i feel this is
the heaviest one i'll ever know.
the change is coming. i can
taste the slime.
i was happy once
in a brighter time.

and the funny thing is
i can still fake the smile
it's a part of me
that is oh so vile
the black-hearted actress
with a grin and a glare
i wonder if, when i return,
the audience will still be sitting there
written march 5
Feb 2015 · 486
twelve caesuras Feb 2015
     i have
dreams but

               when i wake up
everything has shifted

to the right
Feb 2015 · 406
twelve caesuras Feb 2015
i am unable to write very much these days

because she is mine now, and the bittersweet epoch in which she wasn't

was my worst torment.

i am not sad

i do not feel darkness now.

she holds my hand when we walk down the stairs

because she knows i might stumble

she lets me sit and lean against her shoulder when we've walked too far

because she knows that i've got weak knees when i'm around her.

i am unable to write very much these days

because she is mine now; the only poetry

that will ever truly hold meaning.
Feb 2015 · 2.5k
on lovelust
twelve caesuras Feb 2015
i want to conduct a long-running study
of the reasons i can't live without you
and their correlation to our
physical attraction.

we've got the chemistry
because when together with you,
i combust. change colors.
we are the doubly exo/endothermic reaction.

your eyes are a catalyst, and
every gaze takes me to my boiling point
until i become air—but still, this way you can breathe me in.
they're dangerous, these lovelust interactions.
we are nuclear beings, and when we explode
in the fallout with you i hope to call home.
Feb 2015 · 559
twelve caesuras Feb 2015
she is divine.
her thundering chest is pressed against my caving spine.
and she's mine. she's mine. i'd long since devoted every millisecond of my time to trying to erase my pencil lines but now she and i have intersected. this reciprocation was unexpected.
now she is the one that wields the pen. write across me, love, do it again.

we are the only living things in the universe to ever exist. but i swear the stars come dancing down every time we kiss. this is why i say she's got a soul of divinity.
because she'll be my savior straight into infinity.

the first page of a novel that i hope will never end:
*i don't think either of us are even trying to pretend. just be my ******* girlfriend already.
twelve caesuras Feb 2015
between dreams
i find that you can't chase someone
by taking it slow. my eyes are tired
i just want to let her know that
i can't sleep because i'm haunted by
the thought of her alone in the snow.
i want to tell her, don't leave me,
don't go.
but that would be obstructing the flow.

when waking, walking
i think maybe i'm a nuisance, like she doesn't need me
like i need her, i mean, what's the use when my leash might
be a noose because she makes me want to rip it off
but it's so tight that i keep coughing, choking, hoping
that she's got some scissors, save me from this scalding blizzard—kidding, don't worry about me one bit. i swear that i'll get over it.

between dreams
she is the spectral siren. i want her to
fill my silence. to take up the
emptiness inside and graft her heart onto mine. our
souls, like planets realign at the strangest
early hour times and when it happens i feel the strings...
yes, that and other things.

when waking, walking
i give myself one thousand reasons why
she'd never love me back. they might not
be true but it's better to live like that than to
think her deep red turns to pink when she
hears me speak. i'm weak. i don't want the possibility
of her breaking my heart which is why i've been
doing it myself from the start but in the off chance
that she feels the same then maybe i could
ask her again to say my name
because when she does, she stokes the flame.

between dreams
i find that i am reaching out for her. i want to know
if i fit in the space in between her words. and if i
fit in between her lines i'll let her know that she fits
right between mine. she always has, and always will,
because between dreams and waking, walking,
the flowers are still on the window sill.
twelve caesuras Feb 2015
yes it is
let's keep it moving like this
maybe—no, definitely
you'd be the only thing to miss

no it's not
the days are cold, the nights are hot
definitely—no, maybe
i've got bad aim but i'd still take the shot

*her name rolls like
quicksilver off of my tongue
i want to stay with her forever
so i'll just die young,
like twenty-one
i've got so many things
so many secrets to share with you
Feb 2015 · 641
twelve caesuras Feb 2015
won't live past twenty six at the pace you're shifting, at this point you'll fall from grace, just keep drifting. i don't care about this weight you're lifting. just fill your plate and start existing.

what makes you think i want to start? i've played the games. i've done my part. you're all the same, you don't act on head, you act on heart. try exploring rationale. if i want to stop, then stop i shall. don't begin to pretend that you ever cared because when you were laughing, i was there. life ain't no ******* crystal stair.

i saw you at the top once, you were smiling. you grinned and giggled at the little things. i don't ever see you in that place. you have the resignation hidden under your solemn gaze. you might be stuck between heaven and hell, but either way i want to help.

give me a break. i know the exact steps i have to take but that's not a journey that i plan to make. where are you when i start to quake? when you get this way, there is no motivation. your mind goes blank from soul starvation. you lay in wait for your life's cessation. when they ask you how you feel, you learn about improvisation. i guess you've realized that you've got a death on your conscience so you're trying to fix me with this half-assed nonsense.

what's nonsense is that you won't accept my aid. you can't deny this when i found your blades. i found your lighters. i found some insightful self-help writers. i know you say that talk is cheap but you can't spend your entire life just listening in your sleep. so stop dreaming of skyscrapers and guns and spend your life out in the sun.

the sun doesn't shine on any cell of mine so don't you dare try to lecture me on who or what i need to be because you were never ******* there for me. when i was writhing on the ground i don't think i saw your smoke around so take this **** and get out of my face because you'll never see me at that top-of-the-stairs place. i don't care at all for crystal steps. all i want is a pistol and death.
there are six people inside of me and i hate them all. so i'll keep taking out bricks until the tower falls. perhaps when that happens they'll finally get the hint: i don't have much to say with a mouth full of lint.
based on three conversations i have had with three figures of "authority" over the past two years.
twelve caesuras Feb 2015
i don't either
so you don't have to try
and the part that i leave out
is that i'd rather disappear
than stay alive.
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