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Aug 13 · 105
brown paper
hey corner store clerk,
you sold me candy for quarters
now *** for less
or whatever under a few dollars
wonder if you think of this
wonder if it leaves you bothered
the liquor store needs its checks
i know that you’re a father

you must not sell much else but *****
at least this feeds your family
the chocolates been stale for years,
your bread and milk is moldy

sunset came and so did the end,
your store closed up,
no more money to spend.
i wave at the empty shell as we pass by,
and maybe she waved back—
maybe in my mind

counting out those little circles
pennies dimes or silver nickels
counting out these little steps
glazing through the silver ripples
somewhere there's something left
something somewhere’s simple
somewhere i can spin the cap; treat my body like a temple.
i clutch you, little lifeline
i fiddle with the crinkles
if I could count the winter flakes
if little could be so simple

i find that church
sit on the steps
say hey to God
it's me, the king's old fool
his funniest fraud
blood to wine, money to time;
one feeds the soul
one passes by

a playground has seen
many versions of me
before i dyed my hair
until age sixteen
and now my ID reads: something beyond my reach
old enough to buy bubblegum,
old enough to drink bleach

maybe ghosts don't haunt
still i think they did that day
smoke in the shape of me
in the shape of idle play
probably just blurry
didn't drink enough to see two,
probably just blurry -
angry snot on a paper bag.
but still,
isn't that you?

could be that warm breath just fogs
like how clouds took form
of god colored cinnamon & applesauce
we still point and say that's me
and she laughs,
she waves again like salted sea

two swimming in that bobbing water
two swimming in that bottled fire
that's me, isn't it?
didn't we once exist?
like God and Mom and dead uncle John?
and that's all it took?
exist?

now it takes just this huh?
just this to feel
just this to persist?
well at least there's something grounding me,
at least that's something real
*******,
swinging keeps you in the air
and monkey bars break wrists

my phone dances in my pocket
she wonders where I've been
think she'd be pleased with church
but it isn't a day of rest
but at least I'm here, that works
at some point i was blessed
the truth the way the life
wasn't always bought with quarters
adults would tithe or something
but this new **** barks out orders

maybe I shouldn't be here
i think this was enough
finish off your spirits
go home. you've had enough.

i don't remember what went after,
i probably fell asleep
found distractions in other stuff
sticky black smoke, a game
being buzzed was just enough
her little fists let off the swings
i do remember how
she waved and said goodbye to me
and i scowled and cut the strings

not long after we set up tents
red canopies and hammocks
we laid to rest, I did my best **** it
and he's still angry, what isn’t new
we’re out of town
what else to do
pull me aside and sit me down
sure i cut her off but she comes fast now
that small sorry, being punished
it was never that different, was it?

“you took my change
you stole from me five dollars.”

caught by the toe, won’t let it go
go on, try to holler

“we came here to have fun,
we came here to have fun.
but just let me remind you
just of what all you’ve done.
of all the things you’ll never be,
of the things that you've become.

you don't take unless I say so,
you won't wear my socks.
if you think you’re worthy of that,
then in my shoes you’ll walk.
you don't do anything.
nothing.
so at least just get me off."

i think about that change
i think about that change
i think about that change
i ask us what's changed
Jun 2023 · 120
GirlWhoShivers Jun 2023
blood
isnt
all
too
different
from
water

except
for
tastin
******
salty
Mar 2020 · 122
& worthy
GirlWhoShivers Mar 2020
my consciousness thin
& my self-tattered skin
my floor-wrought chin
& my parasitic twin

my black book of sins
& my losses before wins
my thrashing limbs
& my tiniest of violins
what is this, emo poetry for dr. seuss?
Mar 2020 · 167
virtuality
GirlWhoShivers Mar 2020
trail your cursor
now draw it near
pull the trigger
disappear
a soulmate of wire
and this suit of meat
together forever
binary heartbeat

three tabs forgotten
lost before the portal
my handle is forever
this old friend is immortal
digital shepherd, the digital sheep
counting the code for their lcd sleep

that with limbs could run
away
and those with souls aren't meant to stay
the only running she does
is for me,
my forever friend,
dot exe.
the web cannot perish,
the web cannot weep.

it simply one day
goes obsolete
Mar 2019 · 255
facebook comments
GirlWhoShivers Mar 2019
I knew there was a reason why I thought of you whenever this song came on.

Here I am typing to you, imagining that you can respond.
i miss you
Oct 2018 · 933
nameless
GirlWhoShivers Oct 2018
look at all these people
playing at life's game
i'd like to think i'm better
yet I am just the same -
writing a listless poem
this one without a name
a spew of nothingness
i hope sticks to your brain

no, i don't do this for me
this poem is for you
and perhaps if you felt the same
you'd be this way too.
writing poems while alone
feeding the human zoo
a mind ablank and empty
i'm just enjoying the view
Jun 2018 · 1.8k
class clown
GirlWhoShivers Jun 2018
hello reader, i'm trying too hard
as if you could grade me
for every thought I discard

here - please dissect my ramblings
into coherent readings
clumsily crafting my feelings,
i’m scrambling

mending my thoughts digestible for you
i just wanted a good poem,
but this afterthought
will do

similar to the class toad
sprawling my consciousness out
a beating heart
exposed
F-
Mar 2018 · 376
memories
GirlWhoShivers Mar 2018
i found the puzzle that you crafted
tucked inside it's little box
with all the scattered pieces,
with all the scattered thoughts.

I fumble for every shard,
I recover them preciously,
bit by bit -
I place them gently, specially.
to expose the entire picture
i guess you're gone, it's true.
our memories run and flicker
I realize that it’s you.

god, it hurts to look at-
this unfinished mess of art
and to know you’ll never carve
another piece.
at least I have a beating heart.
do what you can with the time that you have. RIP Gauth, I'll love you forever.
Sep 2017 · 303
lightbulb
GirlWhoShivers Sep 2017
i've found that if I ***** my head on too tightly-
the threads become loose enough
my socket burns out a little quicker
and regardless of what way you spin it,
it's stuck until it's of no use

and when that day comes-
my empty skull will rattle
my light will go out
and the only way to replace me
is to break me

even after i'm blackened,
burnt
and discarded
i'd still have been of use
to anyone who has basked
under what little I had to give
Apr 2017 · 495
store-bought soul
GirlWhoShivers Apr 2017
I'd be better off with a refund
Despite my own compunctions
I've mindlessly tossed the receipt
I guess that idea is defunct, then
I'll settle with the damaged product
It has to be worth something
If anything I should know by now
How tattered things still function
Jan 2016 · 347
the inevitable
GirlWhoShivers Jan 2016
I am not alive

I simply go day to day

Edging at my time
a haiku
Nov 2015 · 583
agnosticism
GirlWhoShivers Nov 2015
There’s something just so odd about
always balancing on the fence over God
whatever that is
one morning you’re eating your breakfast next to him
and when your coffee gets cold, you go to refresh it
returning to an empty chair in the kitchen
despite checking the closet and under the bed
driveway empty, he disappears without a trace.
I shrug and I go back to my monotonous day
it never made a difference to me in the first place
smashing my moral compass into the bowl
and stepping on the eggshells


there’s something just so strange about
always being so apathetic about the afterlife
one day I’m staring at my own creation in the face
the next I’m jotting down my signature on a check to the nearest
*** store, florescent green lights against the pavement
******* and live chat rooms
and I wonder if something is watching me
peering constantly over my shoulder
nodding his head in disappointment as I crumple up the receipt
stepping out my burning cigarette **** on the concrete
flickering parking lot lights
Angels spreading their wings
Angels spreading their legs

there’s something just so dreadful
this self-indulgent craving to feel loved by something
twiddling your thumbs at the dentist’s office
the clawing from inside your skull
daydreaming the stains on the carpet into animals like clouds
smile and nod to the receptionist
listlessly discussing the weather
slitting the throat of each arising thought
every last insatiable woe, your vexations left behind
a shell of emotions asphyxiated and blue
bleeding out on the waiting room floor
achieving peace means to destroy what kills you
Isn’t that how He always did it?

there’s something just so pathetic
seeking to blame a deity for being this way
i did not forge my own existence,
but I place the pieces of myself back together every night
that was never anyone’s responsibility but my own
the ego’s entitlement to believing an omnipotent being
owes me some sort of answer
selfish enough to just not want to face that bitter lonesomeness
the emptiness, the void, oblivion
being too much of a ******* coward to face it all alone
greedy little ape, just hungry for any answers
I just want my hand to be held
i’m so terrified to be human
but aren’t we all
sort of a long one..

— The End —