Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Stephanie Hayden Jan 2011
life has never been held within the ( parentheses ) of breathing and
the periods of sentences. see syntax holds no
importance in terms of the soul and beating hearts,  and ( like ee cummings ) i have
never held enough worth in the personal to capitalize myself

but that was before i met You and realized that i have never felt  life
(like being alive in your kiss) before that moment that You
turned me into I
and now
with all of my well-formed syllables and crafted lines
can’t seem to draw the image of this fate and the music of our  
breath dripping across each others skin; no
rhythm of words could ever manifest within the capitalization of
We or the Beauty of Us.

but tonight, as we crawl beneath covers my blood will
approve of this garden between our curves and holding hands.
I will grow the sun to cast an eternal summer
within your smile
(streetlamp halos have never been enough)

but this poem will always say less than the tangible moments of

glances grazes and the heart I carry with Me (carrying it in my heart)
so it can grow like our family trees, reaching (higher than the atmosphere lifting her skirt
to hold in the immensity) their branches into tributaries that flow into being Alive while
the roots of your spirit sprout spores across my skin,
an addiction to slowly sharpen the moment  into
our mouths
rising to breathe in the others breath
our tongues
folding into the song of each others taste
thighs  and hands that grip
at the stepping stones you laid across your
while a phrase more powerful than ( I Love You)
is carried within the gesture of your hips
and the lifelines of your palm

because i’ve  never liked the way my
soul lumped beneath the confines of my skin or the way
the muscles of my body fell limp stretched over bones
until I met You. because You make me see
Beauty and emulate the existence of love and
when I try to remember a past without you, it’s less real than
every played out future held in your eyes
and our holding hands
Stephanie Hayden May 2010

I held a Lily in my palm,
Extended it out to you and
Dared you to love me.

And you did.

We built a brick wall around our souls
And our hearts; slightly suffocating
But flowers grew out of the cracks nonetheless
And we felt beautiful.
Beautiful enough to
spill love across our skin
in red acrylic paint
and show our hearts off to the world.
We were always the artsy type,
But I suppose our love of beauty
Was never quite enough to
Keep the promises we wrapped around our pinkies
From falling apart.

It seems as if the torrential storm of
Unspoken words and
Holding on too tight
May have been the cause of all this.
Our safe and secure wall was only
Sand in the end and

I can’t help but think of the flowers;
they never had a chance to bloom.

See, the things that seem so bright and
promising in the light of summer
still succumb to winter; freezing our
Roots and making them brittle enough to
break off into shooting stars that
crash somewhere in the Bermuda triangle


Adieu love
I wish we could wash our hands of this but
my soul is stained with your red lipstick,
pierced with the twilight of your eyes
and a wish that the frayed ends of
this story could be woven back together into
the friendship bracelet we connected our souls
with so many months ago.
But I imagine you cut it off when you cut
these heartstrings
and I'll writhe upon the ground with the broken pieces;
according to you I've always been a snake
so it seems fitting.
My tongue is sharp
but the vision of your halo and wings
still jade my irises.

Just please believe me when I say
that this was unintentional.
The crescent moon that shone against your cheek
was just sharp enough to
severe our ties
and set too low beneath your pupils
to grow this garden.

Time with its second hands are clasped tight
and jagged...
in the end
our pieces were too frayed to fit.

I still wrote poetry of you,
but it was never quite as wonderful
as when you spoke it
and now I write poetry of you
and it’s not nearly as painful as
your silence. So
I would say this is an apology;
A hope that perhaps on a day that
you’re remembering how our blood
flowed together with laughter
you’d stumble upon this cry of desperation
and forgive me
or at least let me explain.

But I don’t even know you anymore
Stephanie Hayden Mar 2010
I don’t know you yet,
But I’m scared I won’t ever get the chance
And there is still so much I want to tell you.
So I hope tonight you’re listening to
The sun whispering secrets and promises to the earth
While the stars play sonatas and symphonies
with a crescendo that Shakes beliefs
and crystallizes my voice in the wind
I hope it’s carried to you, wherever you are.
I hope you feel what I’m feeling right now
And know you’re not alone
And wherever you are
Whoever you are
I love you
So put down your blade
For you should only bleed with the moon
Life’s the gift in your veins and
Your wrist was meant to be kissed by lips
Untie your noose,
Use the rope to tie the backyard swing
Someone someday
Will pump their legs so they can
Fly and kiss the universe
But that’s not the only thing I want to tell you

Like the mother that gives up her unborn
Tears in her eyes for the
Countless nights she won’t be able to
Tuck her daughter into bed
And tell secrets of the strength she possesses
That she’s so much more than beautiful
her legs are strong enough to carve her own path
And someday she’ll find success buried
Inside her own bones
Read her son fairytales
Of how to love gently
Break the stereotypes
Because It’s okay if he cries
There’s strength in tears
She has so many lessons and stories to
Share but
She’s only 16 and she’s still a child herself
this is the second time
Her mistakes will burn scars in the empty space
Between her arms as she cradles regrets and
Kisses the soft skin of an imaginary cheek
right below the should-be reflection
Of herself
There’s still so much she wants to tell them

And there’s a girl wandering the street alone
who’s given up believing in anything
Except empty promises and lies
The same night her god died in
The arms of a stranger who
had too much to drink
Bruises on her thighs
And stale breath burned into her neck
Knowing no amounts of soap could wash
The filth away, not even the sun is bright enough to guide her
When her eyes are stained with black cigarette ash
Not knowing there’s someone out there that
Has the stars to bring her safely home
that there are empty hands aching
To hold her
show her there is so much more
Than wrists and razors
That Heaven can be found
In hot chocolate and mini-marshmallows
a safe arm around her shoulders as they toast
One another by the fireplace
But she’s already given up
With the barrel to her chest,
She takes a deep breath
and pulls the trigger
While miles away in foster care
In a run-down room with
three beds and tear stained sheets
is the lonely other half with stars in his pupils
A smile for the hope of making a home
Despite the promises of homes that’s been constantly broken
He keeps his strength in ink
so he keeps on writing
And even without dinner for a week
He’s full with dreams of
A home he would’ve shared with her but
he’ll never know that except for the pain in his chest
From never hearing the voice that
Could sing back his heartbeats, a muse
with hands that mirror his lifelines
But tonight with no realization of the could-be family
He’ll press his pen to paper;
Writing poetry for the girl he’ll never meet,
folding his words into a paper airplane
That he can release to the atmosphere
And pray it finds her, wherever she is.
There’s still so much he wants to tell her

I want to whisper secrets in your ear
Of every nightmare I’ve ever had
And how I believe you can turn the falling sand
Into dreams
Give bodies to the ghosts
Of those who haven’t died yet
I want to tell you stories of
My grandmother under the Tuscan sun,
Losing everything but still believing in her dreams
And how with shaky hands from world war II bombs
She signs her name on the Ellis Island wall
An Italian accent tinging her tongue
As she learns how to dream in English
Of how she joins the American war so she can
Shakily hold a diploma and finally
Teeter on the edge of the precipice
Singing songs of triumph and kissing
The things she dreamt of as a child
And with those same shaky hands
She’ll hold my mother and kiss her eyelids
Not once resenting those explosions
Because fate has a funny way of
Bringing you to where you were meant to be
And she was meant to love the American man
Who stares down at his new born child with
A new kind of gentleness in his smile
And these are the things I admire the most

But I also want to tell you how I’m terrified
Of how I’ll inherit my grandfathers disease
(the same man with a gentle smile)
Of mania in iridescent white
And depression so deep you drown in blue
With his OCD mannerisms and bi-polar Medication
he shakes too.
And sometimes I’m convinced
That this shame will be repaid
With my own set of pill boxes
Mapping out every white and brown tablet
That I’ll take day after day
To control the chaos
To control the hysteria
To bottle myself up in chains
So I can say no to the shining razorblade that
Beckons to release the pressure of
Red (blood)
White (highs)
And blue. Deep deep blue.
He has chocolate brown eyes just like mine
So maybe that’s not the only thing
I’ve inherited

I want you to be someone I hold
Under sheets kissing your forehead as you fall asleep
Both feeling holy as Jesus as we finally let go and cry
Knowing that our tears will reach their hands into the sky
To pick out the brightest stars
and light up one another’s face in the dark.
Invincible but not invisible in your embrace.
I want to tell you of all my dreams and how I used to
Pretend I had superpowers
Pretend I could fly with a red cape
i want to tell you
Of how I still sleep with the moon as my night light
Because I’ve always been scared of what lurks in the dark
When I look in the mirror
I don’t really know who looks back
but I still think life is beautiful
When you’re looking for pictures in clouds.
Most importantly I want to tell you
I love you.
I don’t know you yet,
but I love you
And I hope when I pass you on the street
Not yet knowing your name
I will dream of you.
And someday when I come across you again
In some coffee shop on the corner of
Reality and make believe
I’ll have the courage to ask you to
Stay and talk a while
The steam from your Chai washing away
The stress from your face
As we both realize this is it
So let‘s start with our names and explain
there is so much we need to tell each other.
Stephanie Hayden Feb 2010
I want to be that muse that inspires your
practiced velvet fingers to kiss the ivory,
caressing the keys of a baby grand just to
catalyze gentle notes into another set of hands,
hands that tickle my heartstrings into a composition
that surpasses the harmonies of angel's .
You’re the composer of my heartbeats,
sounding a subtle symphony of
nervous twitches,
and the flap of butterfly wings
into a melody that makes
Even the man in the moon hum along.

There are dynamics of your soul
That lie deaf to untrained ears but
I’m listening intently to
Every phrase that
Flows from fingertips instead of lips.
Hold my hand and teach me.
Be the virtuoso that plays
With the chords of my veins
creating a vibrato so loud
it pounds my atoms into place
like puzzle pieces.

And as I lie awake at night
I listen to the music that flows from your
Heart beat into my soul
Filling the veins in my limbs with
Rhapsodies and Sonatas
So when I fall for you
And scrape my knees
I’ll bleed in G minor
Drawing 4ths and 5ths across the sky
Making God himself
Listen so intently to the
Greatest concerto ever written
that he'll invite the Devil himself up to heaven,
"This is why I created
Copyright 2009
Stephanie Hayden Feb 2010
18 years.

And that day the sun and flowers resided in the same ***
Growing anxious to emit light and

But beautiful never compared to
The glow on your rosy cheeks
As the sunlight crept through windows
Desperately trying to kiss your
Porcelain skin with warmth.
And even in the cold brisk air of
The radiance and kindness of
Summer pulsed through your veins
Because you were born to
Dance in sunshine

Angels made sure of that.

As they built wings into your skin and
Kissed the top of your head
Leaving a halo from their lips.
Meticulously, they placed stars into your eyes
So when you blinked
Shooting stars would carry all your wishes in
Safe arms.

And from that first moment that you smiled
A unique breath of air formed
Reminding the world you have
More than time on your hands
And even after years of
Washing and scrubbing
Them clean
Strength will still be etched into
your lifelines
And every year
For 18 years
Steel has been molded against your spine
Making you stand taller
And stronger with
Each passing tick of a
Pocket watch

And although you run towards freedom,
Your feet are still safely rooted in
soft soil
Keeping you grounded and
Secure as you
Hold the blossom of all your wishes between
fingertips and reach your limbs
Up towards the sky
Absorbing light
into your bones

And when you exhale
Atoms of eternity
Will float up to heaven to
Hold hands with God,
Reminding Him He
Created his greatest work of art
18 years ago.

He’ll smile.

Adams rib has never been put to
Better use than
To birth you.

And for 18 years I’ve loved you
Even without knowing it,
Even before feeling your
Fingers match up with the spaces
Between mine

And for every year after
I’ll hold your hand
As you blow out the candles.
Copyright Feb. 7th, 2010
Stephanie Hayden Feb 2010
And this moment will be gone.
Washed away in the tears sliding down your cheek as
We both breathe in and let the lyrics of silence
sweep up To the rooftop like billowing smoke
Spilling over the lips of
my f.m. radio because they are too
Afraid to part from our tongues,
filling our lungs with the truth we’re terrified to release,
As if speaking the words might shatter the
promises we spoke to one another in the dark
So many nights ago
Heart beats.
And radio songs.
Until the clichéd notes embody the danger of understanding
Held behind our irises
the bitter winter air
frosts the back of our throats
Into a dagger of honesty.
Let’s both just blink and fold our hands into
Prayer, begging God that the
Stars won’t fall from your eyes because those
Were the only ones I’ve ever been able to see clearly enough to
Wish upon.


There’s a sliver of moon
Slicing across your face
Changing shape as you blink.

Changing shape as we change.

Each blink revealing more light until
The crescent smoothes out and
Wanes into life.

Don‘t let those tears fall from your eyes,
They carry too many promises and,
Moons aren’t supposed to melt down faces,
They’re meant to whisper hope into dreams

So blink,
And hold back your sorrows because
Tomorrow is only hours away
And the sun is rising into
The daylight that’s truly
reflecting from your pupils.

The moon is only a mirror.


This moment doesn’t really matter.
You’ll blink
And it’ll fade into the next.
You’ll blink
And my wishing star will fall from your eyes
You’ll blink
And seconds pass
Into minutes
Into hours
And eventually
you’ll blink
In a new day.
A new month
A new year
Until the tears that once fell are only memories
Until the moment was just
A blink

You’ll clear your eyes and realize
You’re exactly where you are supposed to be
And the tears that fell in blinks
Watered the garden growing in between your toes and
Up to your chest
Allowing you to blossom and
Stretch the flowers held in your
Fingertips up towards heaven
To kiss reality with a smile.
You’ll blink
And you’ll have wings to fly away from all of this

I will know I played my part that night


As the car filled up with our breath that night
Our eyes were kept open
Unable to shut for even a moment in
Absolute fear that if we did
The other would disappear
Beneath the shattered window of
Every word we ever spoke
Every safe retreat we built upon
A simple embrace
The simple act of blinking
Never held as much significance
As it does when grasping at terrified eyes
Peeling back to expose vulnerable
Desperately trying to reach out its arms
And embrace some form of light

But that night
No stars were shining

And as you buried your face within
Praying hands
I learned how to blink again
As I waited for everything to pass
Until I could blink
And you’d look up at me with
Sun lit eyes
A smile held against your
And I could blink
Knowing the light was coming
To wash a glow upon your face
And we could meet the sunrise
With something beautiful held in our
Hands like a surrender flag.


Five has always been my favorite number
You’ve always known that.
Even before you knew me or
My favorite anything
Even when we were children and you wouldn’t recognize
The shape of my face until
We made that first introduction
and you learned my name under
The sun lit circle

We both sighed relief
As smiles crept across tight skin
Because the realization seeped into our bones
That you’ve always known
that five was my favorite number

Probably because you’ve always known me
Even when you thought you didn’t.

You did.

We were always crawling towards this
Meant for this.

Love isn’t something that appears to
It is a growing thing,
That starts at the birth of our toes
And wraps up each limb like vines until
It becomes apart of our voice,
And when we speak
It forms wings to kiss heaven and tell God of
Our triumph.
And just like you’ve known my favorite number was five
Before you even knew me,
Before you even realize you did,
There’s always been this love
Blinking out from our knowing eyes
And fluttering on the wings of butterflies into
each others out stretched hands.
And although the signs may have been misread
And we turned right when we should have turned left
There’s still love on our eyelashes for
One another,
But blinking only shows change
And although love doesn’t
Blinks can etch it into
Something we never knew existed
So blink,
And embrace the revolution
Because we both know Five is my favorite number
But there is more to this than that.

The sun still shines,
And the growth that is
Rooting between each ventricle of
Our hearts is
Leading us along the right path
Still connecting us deep beneath our
Running feet
Even if we run in different directions.


Close your eyes just to open them
To something beautifully new.

And I will blink with you.
copyright 2010
Stephanie Hayden Feb 2010
From dreams of
a future
I keep locked away in a journal,
I'll meet every
smiling tomorrow
holding secrets of my own
that reach out with warm hands towards the
inhibitions of
every setting sun.
I find the mark of my own realization in these
clasping grasping hands that search
so desperately
for completion
folding into praying hands
until fingers intertwine within
their own realities of
finally brushing across skin of


all these hands ever had to know was that

their own palms could heal sorrows
while holding promises pressed against

your etched life lines from the
waters of your
mother's womb
completing the rivers that flow across mine
so we can float into the ocean of

and as the same light pours over
my blinds
to softly coax open
eyes that
only know the darkness of sleep,

only know
the safety in shadows dancing before closed

I drown in the remembrance,
of how
after we kissed,
the street lamps danced upon your cherub cheeks
until my own eyes reflected
constellations of potential
and yours
exploded into
guiding stars.

guiding this
searching hand into yours grasping for the clouds

they were only grasping for each other
to feel
the tenacious shell of our fingertips graze
and form
a sheltering place to retreat
when the floods pour out from
the vase of the fading flowers we gave to
our past selves.

I was leveled
by your shining beauty
the marvel of you
reflecting heaven
as a nervous
anxious smile
stretched across your lips
and reached up towards the twilight
in your
offering up an embrace
as hearts raced and
walked across water
to defy secular

that was the first moment
I saw the wings you never knew existed

and that night
words never needed to dance within the
darkness of
that parked car.
the warm air forming
waterfalls of honesty
between our mouths
kissed the brisk air
forming mist on windows

we've drawn the path
into a new garden
blossoming sunflowers
from the light
of our lips
be picked by your now

complete hands.
copyright 2010 by Stephanie Hayden

— The End —