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Apr 13 · 16
Saturday morning
Tiger Striped Apr 13
languidly glows in your cheeks,
just north of
the lip you split trying
to tell me you loved me without
saying you loved me.
Saturday morning
breaks burgundy behind
your head, silhouetting
every piece of heathered forgiveness
we earned without merit.
It rises and splatters
in my chest like laughter and it
shines from your eyes to
the edge of your jaw.
Saturday morning
solidifies sunrise in memory,
with its hallowed rays streaming
haloed from your long lashes
and the way my chest shudders with
the scent of you.
Saturday morning
swirls early in whispers like dew steaming
toward balmy April ether.
It supersedes time as it
unwinds the hands on the clock,
flexing post-Friday and
stretching pre-Sunday.
Saturday morning is everything
delicate and divine
that is ever-coursing from
my soul to yours:
I love Saturday morning
because I first loved you.
Apr 13 · 30
Alicante
Tiger Striped Apr 13
The old woman at the bus stop
is a lover of all things:
I can see it in her tired smile
and the way her hands
are determined not to shake
as she colors in the squares of
today’s crossword puzzle.
Focused on her mosaic, she
does not hear
my scraping footsteps or
rasping breaths.
As I collapse next to her, everything is
quiet and I
hear her blood rushing
in her veins, singing a melody her
lips forgot.
I pretend I am her for
five sacred minutes,
finding mirrors in puddles
on the pavement and
battling time and gravity
trying not to sink through the sidewalk into sewer
trying to spend eternity here.
But the bus comes like always,
its wheels
screaming silence into oblivion and
ripping loose newspaper pages
from their holy tranquility between
two leathery palms
and tearing the old woman and me
apart.
Apr 7 · 159
angel
Come down from the heavens, honey;
Earth feels like hell when you're not here.
Apr 4 · 28
Midday
Midday is almost dark; the
ashen sky holds its breath
rain buzzes between cloud and sun
leaves drift, blurred,
in slow frames through molasses space
and kiss the sidewalk with thundering authority.
Between the daisies, lightning sprouts and splits,
spitting stripped splinters into heaven
then pausing, fingers frozen, posed –
a portrait of aloof elegance.
Midday is blinding, deafening,
nature's cinematic masterpiece:
terrifying, thrilling, and everything but numbing.
Mar 30 · 41
patience
Tiger Striped Mar 30
Dramatic irony flowed freely
from all the poems I wrote
about how I didn't write poems about you
and wedged itself in the spaces
between my heartbeats.
And there you slept sweetly
warming my aching ribs and
getting drunk on my tears every night I
awoke weeping
for the miles between us,
and all the purported reasons I shouldn't love
you.
Now poetic justice tumbles forward
from desire into delight
it’s plastered to my skin
and it feels just like you.
Mar 24 · 46
voicemail
Tiger Striped Mar 24
sorry i couldn't reach you i know you've been busy but i miss talking to you and i was wondering if you'd want to um well i don't know i don't have any ideas but if you thought of anything i'd love to know cause i haven't seen you in a while and maybe you're ok with that so if you don't want to it's fine it's not really a big deal i mean maybe it is but only if you think so and i know i'm rambling this message is already too long but if you get this call me back if you want but if you don't that's fine i just wanted to let you know i'm thinking of you
Mar 24 · 230
new life
Tiger Striped Mar 24
His voice rolls steady across my
skin, mimicking
the hair that curls so shyly
at the base of his neck.
It flips my stomach
and screams sight into my eyes,
and it takes everything in me
not to cry like I've never seen in color
before.
He tells me he doesn't dance, except
I can see it in the way he moves, when he
laughs or smiles or says my name; I know he
does
so I promise myself I'll
dance with him someday.
And with his hands pressed to my heart,
he gently erases the
grey skies from my old
paintings, rewriting
the ends of all my poems
and brushes his signature
on every one I’ve yet to write.
He
softly shines on my tired garden,
turning it greener than his
eyes as he
breathes my next breath
into my lungs. And I slowly realize
for all the years I knew him and did not love him,
I was seeds, in soil, shadowed -
to love him is to see the sun
and, for the first time,
to feel alive.
Mar 20 · 24
speechless
Tiger Striped Mar 20
In silence, my words are swelling
pressing against the sides of my skull,
dying to spill
from the corner of my mouth
or the ducts of my eyes.
But stuck to my palm
is your sideways glance,
rendering me listener
as you drink in my thoughts,
quelling my quiet anxieties
before I part my lips.
Of course, you’d never know this,
so I owe you an explanation
as to why
sometimes
I stare at my hands,
smiling,
and don’t speak.
Mar 19 · 33
we met on the beach
Tiger Striped Mar 19
You've never been to Spain,
but I could have sworn you were there
on the beach in July,
giving me sunburns with your golden gaze.
I was driftwood, tossed by panic, unaware
of your silent anchor sinking patient beneath.
I told myself everything but the truth,
and felt your your tears ebb and flow
with the tide, until I
finally let you teach me to swim.
And it's easier than breathing,
it's flying and learning
that I always knew how.
You found me gulping salt water, now
we daydream together, drinking
every river dry
surrendering to riptide, with only
the certainty that we know nothing of the future
and for the first time, that's okay.
Mar 18 · 119
signs
Tiger Striped Mar 18
I like how you breathe in your sleep
it's different than when you're awake -
I know you won't notice if I crack an eye
to watch your chest rising and falling
and admire the shadows the street lamps cast on your face.
Mar 4 · 49
Tuesday
Our divine mandate
fell suddenly, fire from heaven
on a Tuesday afternoon
landing on our tongues,
so hot that it felt
cold.
We refused to believe
our roles were scripted,
but defiance did not make us God,
it only
proved us illiterate.
We mounted a roller coaster,
knowing in the end we'd
taste dust and blood.
Our calling has
always been progress,
never regret -
and we are nothing if not
debutantes.
Mar 4 · 193
Funeral Vows
If life is
nothing, and love
is all, then
die with me:
I promise to
love you better
in death, with
an eternal soul,
than my mortal
heart ever could.
So do not
be afraid of
forever, my dear;
if love is
true (and you
have shown me
it is), then
you must realize
we were always
meant to die
the lovers' death.
Mar 4 · 38
today
Happy makes its tracks
searing, one hundred and twelve degrees
shower streams to skin
and from the corners of
my eyes to my jaw.
It gathers in droplets on the
jaded pink tiles
that droop along my bathroom walls.
It sits in the space
between us and words,
and splashes from my cheeks
to kiss the floor.
It bounces off my bedroom wall,
echoing,
slurred like dying art -
it hits me, head on,
brings me to my knees and
burns the carpet beneath.
You make me so happy, darling:
I'd never lie about that.
Mar 3 · 42
hope
I don’t yet know Love
but I know you
and that’s good enough.
Tiger Striped Feb 25
Year eleven
English class, you’d sit in front of
me, unaware I could hear
your pencil, scribbling
throughts you scrapped
when we all wrote poems.
The back of your neck would
flush angry red
as you tried to cram rhymes
against their will, into
stunted couplets.
You hated free verse (well,
most poetry, at that).
“It should have rules,”
you’d argue with
the teacher, trying to
derive the lexical formula
through some slip of her tongue,
convinced she was
safeguarding the key
to composition, or at least to
the coveted A.
I sat behind you,
sadly, seeing unborn poems
slip between your fingers,
trickle down the legs of your desk
and settle with resignation in the wastebasket.
I said nothing;
I sighed, and penned
a poem you’d hate
about all the ones you threw away.
Feb 23 · 32
water
Tiger Striped Feb 23
The elixir of life
is the stuff of self:
we are spit and ocean
minuscule, innumerable, pellucid
drops dangling dangerously
from windowpane and eyelash
anticipating the inevitable;
the fall
dying to dry
when the sun shines scarlet.
We are nothing more than products of the sky
earthbound, plummeting, wishing
we were suspended in the clouds
gathered just beneath heaven,
hoping to float higher than destiny
someday.
Feb 21 · 161
Falling in the Well
Tiger Striped Feb 21
I prayed wordlessly
with glue on my lips,
a prayer that cracked the roof of my
mouth:
not that I would find love, just
that I could have you.
Tiger Striped Feb 16
A couple falling in love, first date,
another falling out, last fight.
Two boys playing chess,
a girl hungry, won't eat,
a reader, a writer,
an ocean full of thoughts,
and the rare listener.
Feb 16 · 41
smokescreen story
Tiger Striped Feb 16
Eugene sits caddy corner
to the girl in the library.
He doodles in the margins of
library books,
and sips quiet rebellion.
Every so often, they make eye contact
for a split second,
and spill a hundred thoughts
across breathless space.
Eugene listens to her music,
loud enough in her little earbuds
to silence her thoughts.
He knows she's left-handed,
smells like coconut and sea salt,
and takes her coffee black,
but doesn't quite know her name.
Today she might be Jolie,
tomorrow Jasmine,
yesterday Genevieve.
They are just lonely enough
to never speak,
to starve on crumbs of
stolen glances and
shared songs.
Feb 11 · 37
Art
Tiger Striped Feb 11
Art
She does not shout, she’s
the color of mirror
and the shape of song.
She whispers that she loves
herself; she’s clarity
in the absence of reason,
perched on the apex of pain.
She hurts like my stomach on
my birthday,
glaring red beneath my sleepless
eyelids. She was
firstborn from darkness and sprawls
fleshly into light.
Hers is a compass with a
hidden true north,
a tapestry woven of
all love and evil.
She’s poster tack stuck to the wall,
in little shapes like a near-cloudless day.
She is all we can pretend to know,
the only thing we create and
never fully understand.
Feb 9 · 176
If you drank burgundy
If you drank burgundy we’d get along better
I think;
I’d like the way it would
stain your white collar
and laugh when you couldn’t get it out.
It would sit angry against your neck and
stare at me, and
I would smile because I'd
know how it feels.
You’d think it was you who
had painted me happy, so you’d
forget it was there and I’d
know how it feels.
I would take a napkin
and wipe the crimson tracks from the
corners of your mouth,
just so I could have some
burgundy of my own.
It would sit folded
neatly in my lap and
long for your spotted collar and
I’d almost cry because I
know how it feels.
It’s too bad, really,
you and your glass of clear.
No stains and no taste
and no idea how I feel.
Jan 28 · 57
perfect match
Tiger Striped Jan 28
we seemed the perfect match:
i loved to talk about you
and so did
you.
Jan 28 · 46
in another life
Tiger Striped Jan 28
Everett, you're tired
of sleepless nights
aching lungs
girls who evaporate overnight.
You're tired of burnt Saturday nights,
cars parked around dark corners,
staying out too late and
driving home on empty.
I would offer you a ride home,
but Everett, you make my mouth dry.
You smell like cigarettes and
look like all my mistakes.
I want to carry you, Everett,
and watch your scarred skin flush
at my touch, but I know
all too soon I’d be
carrying those same scars on my skin.
So I’ll cry with you
from the other side of the highway,
I’ll feel your albatross around my neck
and wish you the best,
but I won’t be there this time
when you decide to burn
everything that’s good to you.
Jan 24 · 77
green thumb
Tiger Striped Jan 24
I think you should know,
I poisoned the daisies.
I told you it was the dry soil,
that they always wilt this time of year.
You cried, but you'd never
let me see.
I knew anyway.
I knew you'd cry
I knew before
I found the pages you crumpled up
and threw away,
unforgotten in the wastebasket
and burning still with your body's heat.
In the moment,
I touched a fragment of you
from a thousand thoughts away
and realized I wanted you between my teeth -
like vengeance seeks death -
like fire craves destruction -
and it splintered me.
I couldn't help but
get stuck in your thumb.
I knew it would swell and
ache like me,
I knew you’d have something to blame for
the tear-stained pillow
and wilted flowers on your window sill.
I’m not asking you to
forgive me,
I know you never will,
which is easier
anyway.
Jan 22 · 36
stuck
Tiger Striped Jan 22
I find myself lost
when you move,
a drop flung
from your tear-soaked sleeve
to sizzle on the hearth.
I called my mother yesterday
to tell her I'm falling,
but not in love
just sinking in syrupy fascination
while you starve hollow farther
below.
I stir pity and romance
knowing we’re both lying purple
aching to feel love that doesn’t bruise
and I've been too scared to believe
it could be you.
Jan 22 · 48
insomnia
Tiger Striped Jan 22
Red midnight glares above my head
heating coals in my belly,
pushing tears from the corners of my
eyes.
Education, success, modernity
boil me - I scream to sleep cold.
Just outside the window rests
a faint outline,
the shape of my future.
A train shudders to a tired stop,
miles away
the driver
daydreams of going backwards
or getting off
I dream of today, now yesterday,
as I enter, sleepless, tomorrow: today.
Jan 22 · 39
philosopher
Tiger Striped Jan 22
You lost me, philosopher,
but did you read the poems?
You won’t, lest you remember
I reminded you again
your guilt is trickling down
like condensation on the fridge
onto the sticky note that says
remember to fix the fridge -
that’s a poem, isn’t it?
Or you philosophize it so;
I think you think
all my words poetry,
and I dangle, threaded
in your memory:
that’s why it grieves me such to
say, read the poems,
lose me not.
Jan 18 · 41
footnote
Tiger Striped Jan 18
Only if she isn't the moon,
roped down from heaven,
if she doesn't keep time
for your symphonies with her step
if she leaves you as you were,
instead of fever-stricken, breathless, burning
if you forget her when she's gone
and remember how to sleep without her
then you should let her go.
Jan 16 · 46
one night
Tiger Striped Jan 16
Wear me tonight
in your front pocket,
pressed against your chest
like a dead flower
against fresh linen.
Pull me from Eden for purpose,
and when the sun strains against the horizon,
sew my shaking roots into soil
and forget you ever knew my name.
(it's better that way)
Jan 16 · 53
red ugly hot
Tiger Striped Jan 16
The space between
my stomach and happy is
red ugly hot.
I feel my heart beating there,
thumping and stabbing
that is why I press my lips together
at the dinner table
and don't touch my food.
Jan 16 · 32
10
Tiger Striped Jan 16
10
I am empty song silence,
written without words
heavy drifting from the earth
pleasurable deterioration.
Crumble with me,
run quick on milky tabletops
sweep easy like the dust
between rug and solemn shine
fit where no one is
meant to be.
Flattened, minus one dimension
ground to fine lines and
humbled there:
rest is nothing when
time is not.
I long for nothing
when nothing is me
nothing nothing nothing
lines and zeroes
nothing.
Jan 16 · 29
then because she goes
Tiger Striped Jan 16
I slept with your silhouette stapled
to my eyelids again,
and woke up without you
again.
I cry thinking of
how the morning light would
skitter and fragment colors across your prismic skin.
Next to me on the couch,
you fracture my thoughts before
they reach my lips -
"I love you-"
All that escapes.
It's time to go, you tell me.
Wait, please - I try to say -
but instead
"I love you-"
again
and you go,
leave only your imprint on the pillow
again.
Jan 15 · 34
For You and Me
Tiger Striped Jan 15
You skimmed my words and
smiled, almost
and you thanked me
as if I'd ever write for you.
I write for the ******* the phone every night
when she’s supposed to be sleeping,
so she knows she was never in love.
I write for the girl who lost sleep for
lovers who could not love,
so she remembers to love herself first
next time.
I write for the girl who thought
she knew it all,
so that she learns just how much she
doesn't know.
I write for the girl who’s learning that she can write,
the girl pouring her soul onto paper
in scribbles and corny metaphors.
I write for the girl who
wrote for the wrong people
so she can learn to write for herself.
Nov 2020 · 34
Trust
Tiger Striped Nov 2020
Slow chimes move
like silk waves across your breath
smile yearning upward,
lifting me with it
I sail lucid and pale
wondering where reason got off.
You're the last key on the piano,
ringing softly, haloed:
redemption calls like you.
I only meant that
you blaze
like seven raging stars
you illuminate fast and holy,
trickle down your depth and widen
until everything is you.
I won't complain,
I'd cut off my tongue if you liked,
say yes til I lost my voice
even before you asked.
No, this pledge is not dangerous,
my worship not idolatrous, for you
are only ever safety and heaven
(or so I hope).
Nov 2020 · 37
Ode to Annabelle
Tiger Striped Nov 2020
Brilliant Annie,
with dried watercolor on her left thumb, and
charcoal smudge just below her elbow
who are you painting now?
Heart-shaped lips and
round, rose cheeks -
I've almost forgotten the sound of your voice -
what do you whisper in your sleep?
I remember your shadow perfectly, Annie,
I spent years frozen there,
I know its curves and the way
it moves when you laugh.
I'll admit I hated it there,
but I could never quite keep away from you.
Lovely Annie,
with guitar-calloused fingers
and songs tucked beneath your tongue,
who do you write about now?
Maybe you write about me,
like I do you,
maybe I appear in your dreams
and touch your hand,
like you do in mine.
Sweet Annie,
do you still put your index finger to your nose
and smile when you're listening?
Do you still go to concerts of bands
you barely know?
Do you still push your glasses up the bridge of your nose
and tuck your hair behind your ear
when you're thinking too hard?
Of course I shouldn't be thinking of you,
Annie,
after all these years
I'm hundreds of miles away
and you're probably smoking in a parking lot
thousands of years from thinking of me.
Beautiful Annie,
you probably don't even remember me
but I could never forget you.
Nov 2020 · 34
don't water me down
Tiger Striped Nov 2020
It’s because I’m dehydrated, isn’t it?
That’s why my knuckles bruise fast dark blue
why I jump without looking
and love angry men.
It’s why my eyes blaze crimson
and I don’t cry,
why food scrapes my throat and
why I don’t have a job.
My body must crave liquid,
my soul must crave success and rightness -
because they must.
But I never wanted safety,
I want to be dizzy and sick and spinning,
I want to be bone shattered and love lost.
In the end it doesn’t matter to them
what I want -
“Drink more water, dear,
put some stone in that glass heart of yours.”
Tiger Striped Nov 2020
Blindly first he walked,
trampled saints with righteous soles.
Blinder still he fell, kissed dust
writhed beneath the gaze of God.
Weaker still, buckled his knees
like pride and war and dark and faint;
chaos spans his vision now.
His horse was night and wrong and run.
He had no eyes for outstretched hands.
Where is your righteousness now?
It steams with mine,
it is mist and overdue goodbye
it evaporates with myth and law.
Drought waits for monsoon,
famine waits for feast,
he waits for light.
Now it floods,
bread breaks,
scales fall from his eyes.
Now is sight and scab and scar.
See: The Conversion of Saint Paul (Caravaggio)
Nov 2020 · 35
When You Left
Tiger Striped Nov 2020
Darkness grins on the horizon
it looms and drags and coughs
I shudder and shutter my windows,
I board and splinter and nail and bruise and seal
and lock.
It's not quiet inside,
it storms in here too
it's acid rain,
it's sandstorm and blizzard
I'm igloo,
I'm fire,
I'm puddle
you echo and echo and echo
Won't you leave?
Why didn't you stay?
you echo and echo and echo
I scream and spill and slam and still -
sudden silence
darkness seeps through
the gaps in the walls, then my pores
it's here, it's me
I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine
you're gone and
so am I.
Nov 2020 · 36
What Went Wrong
Tiger Striped Nov 2020
My legs swinging at the counter
your soul sizzling in the skillet
my cheek pressed to cold granite
is time running still?
Funny how the night turns
my palms to melted wax
they're stuck on your skin; I
dissolve.
We drift intertwined,
smoke into the detector
and
I'm sinking through the floor,
if you care.
If you don't
I'm gone,
and I was never here,
I never shuddered from your warmth
or cried into your pillow.
You could look for me but you
don't, do you?
You sit redly in the cold,
waiting for Love to love you.
I would be remiss if not to inform you
she is not I
we are not even acquaintances,
her heart and mine.
I am where you aren't searching
she is seated next to you,
waiting for you to give her
what you never gave me.
Nov 2020 · 52
tradition/modernity
Tiger Striped Nov 2020
You're dangling again, darling;
existentialism isn't your color
flush bright and laugh skywards
finish your homework and fall in love.
You rise with blithe baroquism,
I can see it in the faint
shadows beneath your eyes
as you rush windward into past.

It's alright to love the program, honey,
but if you're over-cautious
you might turn too perfect.
Just don't while I'm alive, please,
for I love the curls in your words
and the feathers in your walk.

Be me when you don't want to,
and be you when you forget what it's like.
Just remember me around the edges,
paint me in the corner below your signature
and remember my kisses goodnight.
Nov 2020 · 34
Eloise
Tiger Striped Nov 2020
Eloise, I showed you my soul
you blinked and your mouth did not move
I wanted you to smile, Eloise,
I wanted you to shed a tear
despite your efforts to keep it in
I wanted you trembling in my arms
I wanted your salty cheek against mine
what did I lack, Eloise?
you hung the moon and
left me to burn on the sun.
You pinched my heart between your teeth
and kissed another's lips.
When lightning struck my empty veins,
your laugh was thunderously clear,
your smile like a lonely star,
burning as my universe dissipated into black.
Ruin me again, Eloise,
I’ll stand and melt in your acid rain,
your scathing apathy will puddle me
as it flows from your soul into mine.
Numb me, if you would, Eloise,
so I can be like you:
so my mouth does not move
and tears no more escape my eye.
Nov 2020 · 36
coffee shop
Tiger Striped Nov 2020
"Would you like cream and sugar?"
the barista
my lips pressed together
"Yes."
You,
speaking for me
I hate cream and sugar
Nov 2020 · 29
you
Tiger Striped Nov 2020
you
Dark magic
black lace and
red lips.
I'm enchanted -
what was your name?
It falls off
your tongue like
caramel or tar
I'll drink it either way.
Saccharine sapphire
pulling me underwater,
showing me how to breathe
kohl pencil
feathered around your eyes
a punch to my stomach
I feel it in my toes.
The passion of the sun
cloaked in the moon
dangerously beautiful,
and I'm a connoisseur of hazard.
Sep 2020 · 38
projection
Tiger Striped Sep 2020
I've been circling the drain
for a while now,
screaming at you because
you look just like me.
when I get out I'll
try new things,
like papaya and cigarettes.
I won't like them but you
won't stop me anymore
I'll converse with the dead roses
on the vanity, ask them
if they knew they'd die,
from the moment they met your fingertips.
They won't say anything, because they're dead
and they're plants.
Maybe I'll become an anarchist;
I'll abandon that old idealism
of true joy and technology,
of solidarity and sovereignty
I'll try out lobotomy
and I won't wonder anymore
how you'd answer
those questions that rotted
in the back of my mind.
But before I do, I might
walk for a month,
day and night, all the way to
your house, only to find it inhabited
by someone new
and I'll be reminded that it might be time
for me to go,
and never come back.
Sep 2020 · 31
statue to an unknown god
Tiger Striped Sep 2020
you rise taller than my dreams,
grander than my hopes,
just short of reality
i don't know you, but i want you
Sep 2020 · 40
christmas day
Tiger Striped Sep 2020
i discovered love
beneath wrapping paper,
presents crumbling in my fists
it was the rug ripped
from underneath my feet,
the taste of salt and metal
the chip in my tooth
so of course i fell for you,
your adrenaline and materialism
of course i can't forget you
how could skin forget its scars?
i don't care if you broke me
or if i was always broken, and
you just made me feel whole
for one perfect day.
i was blindly searching for love, but i
only saw you
Sep 2020 · 33
mulberry st
Tiger Striped Sep 2020
mulberry street after dark
broken locks on the bridge
discarded heart-shaped locket
picnic blanket on the grass
you and i,
skipping rocks,
i think about how they
sink and settle,
destined to kiss
the murky lake's floor
you and i,
naming the stars
who are we
to think we know them?
to us, they are no farther than the moon
as finite as the glittering streetlights
less comforting, more enigmatic
we watch the sky ripple on the lake,
i wonder if we'll see a shooting star -
what are the odds?
maybe if there were a
meteor shower, we
could wish a hundred wishes
yet we'd never wish
for the same thing
soon the sun will rise, cloaking the stars,
you'll follow her, and
i'll follow the moon
perhaps i'll see you across the galaxy
and nod for rocks sleeping
'neath the lake at mulberry street
Sep 2020 · 31
Anna
Tiger Striped Sep 2020
You saw through me
that first day you stepped in that garage
your eyes sharp,
making their incisions,
finding things even I did not
know.
They call people like you
old souls,
your knifelike philosophy
they name intuition.
Sweetheart, I'm sorry
I couldn't save you from seeing all of me
I couldn't stop my tired feet from running
you couldn't save me from myself.
Yet you still came with me,
you rode the elevator down just to see
what I was hiding from
and you found her, Anna,
in all her glory, tumbling from the window.
You cut your foot on the broken wine glass,
just like I do every time.
She laughed at you like she laughed at me
and you ran from that cursed hotel
while I stood and let her rip my heart out
again.
see: Inception
Aug 2020 · 28
seamstress
Tiger Striped Aug 2020
when i was little, i never
dreamed of being a seamstress
but here i am, threading together
fragments of people in poems
stitching his skin on another's face
sewing puppets of everyone i long to erase
and nailing them to the walls of my house
i specialize in calcifying the past
amplifying the voices of my vices
i dabble in cosmetics,
beautifying villains
making their faces a little easier to forgive
and so much harder to forget
to those who have scarred me,
i give the most coveted gift:
to live forever
the secret to immortality?
eternal, indefatigable words
Aug 2020 · 32
weight
Tiger Striped Aug 2020
why do we fall in love
with emptiness?
why do we chase the void?
somehow, nothing
is more comforting than something
sinking heavy in your stomach,
a reminder that
gravity binds us to the ground
maybe if we were filled with air,
we could float wherever we pleased,
refusing to relinquish control to the earth
but something sits hidden away
in the nothing,
begging for more,
whispering that we will die if we don't
stuff ourselves up to our necks
and we oblige, we
like the allure of weighty things
so we pack them in,
stretching our skin,
we fall flat on our faces when,
inevitably,
it becomes too much to stand.
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