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Amanda May 8
I am not sure how to fix what's been broken
Scared I lose another piece of you with each word spoken

Everything I don't or do seems to never be right
When I try to figure out the reason we just fight

How many poor decisions can I possibly make
Before my ****-ups are too much for you to take?

Afraid if I loosen my grip you'll slip away and disappear
But the harder I clutch the less you want me near
Oh the irony
Tammy M Darby Dec 2018
Sailing through purple skies unhindered
And breathe crystal snowflake frosted air
Floated past the mysterious Weeping Mountains
And yellow forests called Warlocks Fair

Trembling
Wandered the underworld
Drunk with false courage from Cretan wine
Leapt bravely from star to star
Journeyed through red starred scattered galaxies
Witnessing the birth and death of time

The finality of the forever feared tolling
The ringing of deaths solemn bell
Conjured this was in my mind quite carefully
For I am she who tells the tale

Commanding the heavens and the earth with my pen
To me the four winds bow low and kneel
The water robed river nymphs pirouette
  Wild horned stags vault high to my music
You must admit the scene quite captivating and surreal

The moon kiss my cheek with shy affection
Apollo grace me with a sunburst arrow of gold
Syrian lotus seed the door to the universe
  Held tightly in small clutching hands
Where lies stories soon to be told

  She who tells the tale
Sprung from blood of ancient lands
Portraying in ink and script
The dark images of man.

@ Copyright Tammy M. Darby Dec. 12, 2018.
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S O P H I E Dec 2018
he told me he felt stuck
that his life was out of his control
"do something impulsive"
i only suggested it because i knew he could pull himself
out of the alluring trance of letting go
but me? impulsivity tightly grips my neck and never lets go
it's poison flows through my veins
i have launched myself from tall places never knowing where the bottom was
i have ended relationships because a voice in my head says they deserve much better then me but isolation is not safety
it is death
because if no one knows you're alive

you aren't.
Love was when she fought me
and we ended it by
hugging each other tightly.
Poetry May 2015
If you touch me
Do it gently
If you hug me
Do it tightly
If you leave me
Do it quickly
If you stay with me
Do it forever.
Martin Narrod Nov 2014
This terribleness. The blur of traffic lights and puddles paints Los Angeles on my face at night. It's so hard to know who will doze in my blind spots. Sunflower seeds and ******* lining the carpet. I sat on the front porch for five hours gutting the wolves from my appendices. Usually the headaches go away with the squashing of the lights. Fluorescents are the worst, halogens second, and 60-watt 120-volt light bulb the bane of my existence. I look at my phone but I cannot summon a quirky 120 character quip. I need excedrin but all I have to grape flavored children's aspirin. I should have asked for the water. How many unfinished glasses of water have I left around this world?
     Maybe Bruce and I will squash after work. I can hear his weekly catalog of two night stands with those married transient women who drive from Santa B. I hate golf, I could have made carried a career in this resentment. Maybe rolling down the window will alleviate some of this pressure. Maybe it's barometric pressure, The Baby is here in time to drag the houses out to sea. It feels like Michelangelo is carving The David in my head and it's the chiseling I've never wanted. It's Tuesday and the drugs were horrible. They killed five of them today. We wrapped their heads in blankets from the Thrifty, and had to have the interns find clothes that would fit for the Christian caskets. Two days until Giving Thanks Day.
     I am wrapped in copper and stuck in amber. I am acquitted by nonsense and stipulation, sick with nausea and pushing my forehead into the steering wheel. This is all terrible. The lying I've never told myself. The people that don't even know it's lying. Her and I always seem to escape with our happiness and pleasure in tow. The odds are slim, but our clothes have never fit too tightly.
neon alien blouse girl lies lying tightly wrapper copper days fighting giving slim odd thanksgiving gratitude life blanket homeless ring internship myself I lights lux watts volts stand sit golf aspirin
I wish I could ask you to stay,
but that wouldn't be fair to you anymore.
So instead,
I'll ask you to hold me closely
and tightly to your heart,
and to guide me the entire way.
So that in the end,
we may be together again.

— The End —