runs rivers down
the planes of my face
drip dropping
to the asphalt
and sizzling there;

I wonder if it's true
that I could fry an egg
on the tarry New York sidewalk
melting under my feet

I think I'd like to try
I think I'd also prefer to be that egg
in the cool air of aisle 9
where someone will pick it up
and take it home
and make pancakes
with the person they love

Insta: @nakedwriting

Late August underneath the radiating and boiling sun
We sat cross legged underneath the manzanita tree
One of its little withered leaves flew down and landed behind your ear

I brushed it off with my hand and placed it on the ground
Little did I know that was what would make you want to leave me forever
I didn't know how much you loved leaves or how much you hated me touching your ears
This was the worst mistake of my life

If I could travel back in time
I wouldn't stop diseases or wars or do anything

I would just
Make you come back to me

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Like a loaded gun,
there's a smile on his lips,
waiting to be released,
and when it bursts,
it's infectious.

It appears I have become content with my uniqueness. I am what some call weird, I love to make myself laugh by being ridiculous, I dance in store isles to make someone laugh, i say stupid things and I love all of these things about me. The people who call this weird must be such a bland and boring person. Live a little!

Aleeza 3d

I didn’t ask to be assaulted with words
When you knew all too well that there was more than 15 bottles in my system
And my feet couldn’t find a way to walk a straight line.
“You only say ‘I love you’ when you’re drunk.”
I forced my drooping eyelids open to look at you
And I wanted to laugh.
It was past 2am on a Friday and I was lying down on my threadbare sofa
Your hands pushing a bucket towards me because you know me

You know me too well.
You know that on Thursdays the commute home was faster and the jeep would drop me off by the bar a street down from my cruddy apartment.
You know that I like this denim jacket you have because it has a pizza stitched onto it.
You know that my wallet is practically begging me to stop at the third shot but my heart won’t have any of it.
You know that no matter what, I will dance to Pussycat Dolls whenever they come on, even if I’m in the most contaminated restroom to exist.

But you don’t know
Of the way my head screams over the pounding of the music whenever you say her name.
Of the words that get stuck in my throat every single time you close the door behind you.
Of the times I wanted to know what it was like to have you near me when I wake up.
Of how I wanted to sing the cheesiest songs to you in the karaoke room.
Of how I closed my eyes in the presence of the night stars when I could hear how happy you were.

Sometimes my mind wanders to the thought of your lips on mine and your hands on my spine
But I remember that you said that she tasted like a fallen heaven
And I remember that I must taste like the loneliness of rain

You know that I fill in the gaps of my life with paint splatters in the colors of the sea
You know that there are tunes I will remember even when I’ve long forgotten the words
You know how my smile barely ever reaches my eyes
You know who I am.
Who am I anyways?
The sober girl who knows
That the only time I can hold your hand
Is when I get drunk enough to say “I love you”

So I say it again and again and again.
Because now you will laugh it off and say I’m drunk
Because you will forget about it the next day
Because when I’m sober
I can look at you with clear eyes and know
That you only say “I love you” when I’m drunk.

each toe carefully etched in the dissolving sand
it washes away as the wave washes over it
with nothing but a smooth canvas left behind,
for the next person to mark

this is like my love for you:

i know soon it will be gone,
left perfectly for the next person to take over.
all i ask is that while i'm here,

you appreciate me like i appreciate you

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By the time I finished writing 2:47 it was 2:48
Now it is 2:47 and 20 seconds
It took me seven seconds to write that
So it was actually 2:47 and 28 seconds
Of course, the only poem I’ve ever written
That requires me to look at the time
Immediately coincided with me having to reload my page

Because love doesn’t want you to know the time
It wants you to be always a minute behind
Its plans

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Please don’t go

Please don’t leave me

I just want to be there
For you

I just want to be in your life

I just want to be your favorite
Can’t I just be your favorite?

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Each tiny millimeter in a meterstick
Is an understatement of the world we live in,
Plagued by dusty windowsills that cry
When the doors are closed
And water faucets
That scream when your spine is turned

Do you miss them?
I think not

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