Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Feb 2020 · 69
if i could play it again
Tiger Striped Feb 2020
i took piano lessons when i was
five, until i was eight.
we moved states and
i just stopped.
but then a few years ago,
i met you and i
wished i remembered how to play
because you put a song in the back of my mind
and it's been playing ever since,
without your knowledge
or my consent.
sometimes it calms me
or animates my dreams,
and on occasions it's given me
headaches.
but it reminds me every day
of what i could have had,
what i long to pursue
and how
i wish i could play your song.
Feb 2020 · 59
new ink, same dreams
Tiger Striped Feb 2020
i got a new pen for christmas
and i love it.
it glides over paper
like a cosmic match,
its perfectly pigmented partner.
but i have the same notebooks
and i write the same things
dreaming the same dreams
with a new pen in hand.
at least your name
will be just a little bit more beautiful
as i trace it once more,
tear out the paper,
crumple it up,
and start again.
Jan 2020 · 98
when we die
Tiger Striped Jan 2020
if we are going to die
hand in hand,
then we'll be okay.
Tiger Striped Jan 2020
it's so hard to forget
the curve of your mouth
the words that you spoke
the way they gently passed through your lips
it's harder than remembering
the words i wrote down
scribbling furiously
trying to make sense
of a world
that never stops talking
the roar is nothing short of deafening,
yet i can still pick out
your voice
as i copy down the words
i wish you had said
instead of the ones you did
after all,
that's what writing is for
recording dreams
alternate versions of
reality
reflecting something prettier
than the naked eye could see
the words i wanted
would have sounded much prettier
on those lips of yours
but i look up from my dreamy scribbles
and remember
i am still awake
Jan 2020 · 177
simple words
Tiger Striped Jan 2020
i sink in the sound
of my thundering blood, rushing
in my ears, flushing
to my cheeks—why?
what simple words from your lips
were given power unparalleled
to command the blood in my veins?
they draw forth a cackle, unbidden
(a laugh?)
and i hardly have time to be mortified
amid a sea of elation.
my eyes and ears act with
wills of their own,
the former entranced by your lips,
the latter hanging on every word that floats
thence, to their patient wonderment.
i try on a knowledgeable smile,
not to betray my flustered state,
as if i am at all in control of myself around you.
i dare not attempt a sentence
(or mere coherence)—
for the present, i am content
to watch your lips and listen to their
simple words.
Jan 2020 · 79
bliss
Tiger Striped Jan 2020
How does that make me feel?
It's complicated.
or maybe it isn't –
maybe it's outrageously simple,
like the condensation that becomes rain that becomes
a raincloud again:
I am all three and dangerously unaware,
trapped in a comatose fever dream
wishing you would pinch me and
disappear.
If I knew how the game was played,
I'd be so unbearably bored.
I spare myself the tedious details:
whether you're real or not—
whether I could ever wake up—
whether I care enough to try—
ignorance is bliss, honey,
and imagination is only everything they say
reality isn't.
The narration is a little confusing, my editors said,
the perspective is a little jumpy,
my thoughts dissipate before they can be
properly understood.
They can't tell whether the story is supposed to be a
tragedy, or perhaps
dramatic irony,
I don't reply because—
well, I'm unconscious, of course.
And busy—
I've got appointments all day; being ignorant and blissful
is quite involving.
Jan 2020 · 128
If we could love
Tiger Striped Jan 2020
If we could truly feel love
perhaps we would rise with the dawn
like steam over the lake,
evaporating into the soul-shaken skyline.
Our questions would have
not answers, but more questions.
The flames that licked our lips would
fall on flowers and
they'd bloom.
We would plant gardens
sow them with our dreams,
and the seconds that sprouted would stretch
to last lifetimes.
We would see the world
in a drop of rain,
folded over in paradoxes and surreal truths.
If we could feel the vast expanse
of time and space
of pain and regret
and if we could love all the same,
it would not be romantic in the least:
romance is heartbreakingly unequal,
and if we could love,
we would love with billions of fragments of
broken hearts, sewn together,
perfectly imperfect,
spitefully ironic and
irrationally equal.
Jan 2020 · 78
frozen
Tiger Striped Jan 2020
i lay frozen
only able to move my eyes,
so they
remained fixed on you and
shed a tear
for the delineation of your beautiful silhouette
and their own shrouded myopia
Dec 2019 · 175
found & lost
Tiger Striped Dec 2019
I found you first
in meteors splattered against the
skin of the barren night sky.
I found you  
in the grains of sugar
liquefying joy on my tongue.
I found you next to me
my bleary eyes opened
I blinked
you vanished.
Now I search for you
ripping out every page of my favorite books
stripping away the keys of once-grand pianos.
Now I search for you
I pass the days lying in the street,
looking for a face like yours
through the windows of
cars that drone mindlessly by.
I don't sleep; someone must
scrutinize the sky
in case you make your fiery homecoming
but every second without you
steals you further from my memory
and sometimes, with my eyes closed, I wonder
if you were ever really here at all.
Dec 2019 · 110
no new you
Tiger Striped Dec 2019
we'll glide into the next decade
like we own it
skating on razor blades,
twirling knives like majorettes
what is there to be afraid of?
you leave a funny taste on my lips,
like nightshade or something i wasn't
supposed to eat.
i like waiting with you
parked in your car by the bus stop,
talking about pseudo-psychology and
goodbyes,
which one is real and which is a
scam
it's 2 a.m. now,
and i'll be up again in 4 hours.
that's just enough time to
listen to your favorite album
and tell me what you dreamed about,
and catch the bus before sunrise.
i haven't slept in –
oh, i don't know.
i've been up with—thinking of—
you
the idea of you
and me have been up all night,
waiting at that **** bus stop.
the unholy voices whispering to me
sound just like you.
they—you— make my head spin
when i think too hard
about who you are—
are you my punishment,
some divine, poetic justice,
for an act i've committed?
am i to be driven insane,
tantalized, eternally unable to eat or drink,
with food and water just out of reach?
maybe so, but maybe
insanity is letting
someone like you
disappear.
Dec 2019 · 246
River
Tiger Striped Dec 2019
i sent my dreams
downRiver, into your open
mouth. and i stood there,
shell-shocked by the sight of
you,
wondering what it was like to really know
you.
i watched your eyes close,
as the sunset silhoutted your sweet curls.
i exhaled a silent prayer, and hoped
the wind would carry it into your lungs.
my heart pumped blood into
the River
my body did not know
how to swim. so i stood and watched
you,
drinking in the world, without
any idea that it was my
blood that tinged the water.
i wanted to tell you everything
i wanted to scream
i wanted to touch you
but you looked so peaceful,
floating like you were
born to defy gravity. i could not
disturb you and ever forgive myself.
so i knelt where i was,
letting the saltwater trickle from my
face to join the River,
as it took you far away from me.
Nov 2019 · 284
vapor
Tiger Striped Nov 2019
This existence is but a breath
vapor drifting past the lips of
life:
a Secret kept obstructed,
eclipsed by perennial paradigms
mutinous Mobs snuffed
out by the wind
a broken Hourglass, the
Sand seeping through the
cracks in the door
the Dust on the floor,
flattened by footprints beyond
differentiation
a Conflagration quenched as
soon as it catches
by the swelling tides of time.
Whether we're cursed or
self-destructive, our
affinity for chaos will
unravel our transcendent, twisted cataclysm before
we ever know our
beginnings and endings.
Nov 2019 · 162
self-reflection
Tiger Striped Nov 2019
in the light,
the mirror was never as kind to me
as my mind's eye when
the shadows swept in
when my pupils expanded and the
blackness spidered in my veins
and i painted vines atop them
so the light might
smile on me again
instead it pierced my sordid skin
showing its squalid, shameful state
it broke my bones and tore my tongue
i scorned its heat
and stumbled into the cool, black night
to feel my nerves numb once again
to cover my new unholy scars
slapping self-indulgence to my skin
as it stung, i ignored my muscles and
continued to do what i do best —
run
Nov 2019 · 296
the jungle
Tiger Striped Nov 2019
deep midnights in the jungle
the air thick with our thoughts
we twist and tangle vines
between us, binding
bone to bone
we drink the dew drops
from the leaves and
weave their stems around our fingers
our swarthy skin, stained with soil
the kiss of nature on your thumb when it
brushes my cheek
we press our bodies
into the trunks of the towering trees
and taste the bark between our teeth
this is our labyrinth, and i
long to get lost with you
Nov 2019 · 189
I have a question:
Tiger Striped Nov 2019
Do you sleep on your back
with your heart to the
sky, and your face to the
sun?
Last night, I wondered
as the moon peeked through my window
and the night awoke,
I wondered with my heart to the
floor, and my
face pressed to the pillow.
When I was a baby,
my mother lied to the doctor:
"Yes, she's sleeping on her back,"
but I would only sleep on my stomach.
Still, I turned out fine,
right?
Sometimes I lay out on my back,
and I can see my heart beating
in my stomach,
through the fabric of my shirt,
but I can't sleep.
Is this what you feel like?
Can you watch your chest rise
and fall?
When you cry,
do your tears make two tracks
from your eyes to your ears?
Maybe you don't sleep on your back at all
maybe you turned out fine,
like me,
sleeping with your heart to the
floor, and your
face pressed to the pillow.
Maybe you don't watch your heart beating,
or your chest rise and fall,
maybe you don't cry —
but I'd like to think you do.
Nov 2019 · 274
a letter
Tiger Striped Nov 2019
i want to tell you that you smell like sandalwood soap. and that i can't keep my eyes off your hands. and i want to ask you what was the last thing that made you cry? and then i'd think about what tears would look like in your beautiful eyes, and then i might cry myself. and i want to tell you that you look like heaven on earth, and you wouldn't believe me so i'd tell you again. and again. i want to look at you like you're the last thing i'll ever see and memorize everything about you. i want to give you all of my favorite things and take you to all of my favorite places and then find out what yours are. i want to know what you're thinking about and why. i want to read your words and tattoo them on my tongue. i want to touch you for longer than a second. i want to show you what it feels like to be wanted. i want to show you everything i see in you, if you'd let me.
Nov 2019 · 416
rapture
Tiger Striped Nov 2019
Euphoria sewed her golden ecstasy
in the scathing arms of the sun
we knew our world was hers when
the last of the ocean had evaporated
and we had drunk our tears away
with nowhere and nothing to hide
we joyfully traipse through desert heat
like newlyweds, heading towards the Honey Moon
singing dead romantic words
of antiquated crystalline towers
where young maidens once were trapped
'til summer sounded her blissful clarion
and her castle melted into the fallow earth:
this is the beginning of a new era
of heavenly heat
we will all burn together.
Sep 2019 · 486
the cure
Tiger Striped Sep 2019
The doctor called today
to inform me that I have a
critical case of you:
tears hang heavy in my heart always.
but I never cry,
I never sleep
but dreams dance in my consciousness always.
In the night
I shiver as the dark settles in my lungs
in the morning
I am blinded by the light.
I shattered all the mirrors in the house
in a rage, because
I cannot agree with them.
I have taken to self-medicating,
reading tales of me, in an alternate reality
where I have love and tranquility and a little sanity,
and no you.
But my symptoms are worsening
every day with you,
and twice as much
every day without.
The diagnosis knows one antidote,
a terribly plaintive remedy.
All this is to say,
I think I need your help.
Sep 2019 · 148
memorabilia
Tiger Striped Sep 2019
i gathered all the things that mattered most
and made a list.
i traced it in the sand
and carved it in a tree
and stamped it on my skin.
and then you
came, with your fire and flood
your tidal waves
your wildfires
your torrential deluges
you washed away those fickle memories
and i danced in your storm.
i danced on a barren beach,
by burnt trees, as the
ink trailed down my arms.
but your fire did not burn for me,
your rain did not pour for me,
you just were
and i
had the pleasure of dissolving
on your shore.
Sep 2019 · 131
blood red rose
Tiger Striped Sep 2019
I lay down on a bed of thorns
to be next to him:
roses are quite romantic, they say,
and they were once my favorite flower.
My skin became sticky with blood
but I never cried, because we
bled together.
Later when I scrubbed my body
and the water ran red, he
was nowhere to be found.
In the aftermath I realized
my scars would never fade
my skin has stayed scarlet and sensitive
and now my tears betray
how my nerves scream at the touch.

I searched for him;
maybe he would assuage this pain —
but all he could give me
was months of bleeding silence.
It was only when I finally gave up
that he camped outside my door,
fists pounding against the wood,
hours upon hours, screaming
that he loved me.
But he looked like hell,
like he hadn't even washed his hands
since that night.
How could I tell him
that he reeked of acid?
That being close to him made my stomach churn?
That he looked like the worst mistake I ever made?
I said nothing;
I locked my door
and listened to him break.
Sep 2019 · 140
unsolved
Tiger Striped Sep 2019
i wrapped an anchor 'round my ankle
and dove into the ocean
in march
when spring blossomed and the
ice fractured beneath my weight
i swam not for shore
but for the ocean floor
the pressure crushed my frozen skin
i followed your map, encrypted
in riddles and cacography
and there, submerged in the fathomless deep,
it occurred to me that
perhaps you did not want to be followed
so i opened my mouth and closed my eyes
i let the water suffuse my tired bones
and i sank, as
gravity drew me closer to
you
Sep 2019 · 981
Butterfly and Peony
Tiger Striped Sep 2019
there was a Butterfly on a velvet lavender Peony —
its petals prickled in the crisp breath of spring, sighing
just softly enough to lift Butterfly's wings,
with the ambitious hope that she would see many other gardens
and love Peony's velvet lavender petals just the same.
Peony's hope spun silky and shimmering like a spider's web;
a picture realized somewhere between imagination and wishful thinking.
how brazenly did Peony venture to forget the stickiness of those alluring threads;
a spark of amnesia that flickered too close to the cords of fate.
Peony bloomed and wilted on that hallowed ground,
while passing time pierced Peony's burgeoning faith
no summer nor winter
nor spring nor fall
would ever find Butterfly there again.
Sep 2019 · 59
read me
Tiger Striped Sep 2019
i was once the well-worn book at your
bedside,
and then i was the last chapter
of the book you were afraid to
finish.
now i am a dusty journal,
hidden away with lock and key.
you do not know what to do with me.
i hold your memories
your secrets
your fear and your desire
if you did not want me
printed on the back of your mind,
you should not have filled me with your words
or stained my pages
with your touch.
you wrote these words, darling,
in fountain pen;
i cannot be erased.
you will not throw me out
you will not burn me
you will not rip my pages
you will never forget me.
Sep 2019 · 590
clean break
Tiger Striped Sep 2019
the first time
i left because
i needed you and
you didn't need me
the last time
i left because
i didn't need you
i needed me
Tiger Striped Sep 2019
my words are smattered across the page
filling every blank space
a lengthy missive,
all to tell you
the words i couldn't speak
all to tell you
why i walked with you
so many times
why i sat in the grass
bug bitten, sweat ridden
i can tell you
it surely wasn't for anyone else
all to tell you
the songs that make me think of you
songs i’d play in my car
and pretend i didn't know
that you knew them too
all to ask you
why you stayed up talking to me
until 2am
and now we barely speak at all
all to ask you
what changed
because i'm getting quite good
at pretending
pretending i don't care what you do
pretending i don't want to walk with you
pretending your words don't affect me
pretending these words aren't for you
yet, here i am, writing these words
and i will put it in an envelope
carefully seal it
stamp it
and throw it in the fire
Sep 2019 · 100
hindsight
Tiger Striped Sep 2019
forbidden feels so good
until it burns your lungs
some lies taste like honey
until they burn your throat
some people burn, beautiful and bright
until it hurts to look any more
invincibility is the worst kind of vulnerability
invincibility makes the gazelle
to lie down at the feet of the lion
trust can be found the easy way
or the hard way
the hard way, a
well-worn path
lit by warm, smiling faces
paved with promises
leading to destruction
i thought i could subdue that wretched monster,
fate
in the end, i suppose i have you to thank
for proving me wrong
Sep 2019 · 436
same new dreams
Tiger Striped Sep 2019
pictures of you that i
stapled to my
pillow, so that
you're there when
i'm lonely or
tired,
so that you
sop up my sobs and
soak in my screams, you
are beneath my deepest dreams and my
nightmares, too
Sep 2019 · 307
yet to be
Tiger Striped Sep 2019
from the sky, looking down
i could almost see
every drop of our lives
in the vast expanse of the sea
Sep 2019 · 415
the scariest part
Tiger Striped Sep 2019
you put something ungodly
deep in my chest and
i loved it far more
than i ever loved you
Sep 2019 · 775
untouchable
Tiger Striped Sep 2019
in the youth of the morning
a glass figurine grasps rays of light
the sun graces his soft contour
radiant colors bouncing off the
***** surface of the table
the dust does not near his skin
his lineament is something i saw once
in a dream, across the ocean.
do i brave those tumultuous waters?
to what end?
so that my fingertips may keep their distance?
so that we may breathe the same air?
so that our eyes may burn under the same sun?
my wistful dreaming knows
not reason but the desire
to witness the distant diamond
glinting like the stars
that beg me to drown in hopeless ventures
yet my lungs would happily fill with saltwater
if only my skin could know
the touch of an untouchable
Sep 2019 · 598
dreaming outside
Tiger Striped Sep 2019
in another lifetime
we stand grounded in perfect heat
your gaze keeps me from drifting
and you hear my whisper above the
roar of the swelling throngs
we feel no pain now,
though our cheeks once knew
the salt of tears and blood
yet you were there,
you washed my face
and i yours
because you never once doubted
what i looked like beneath
and once our feet hit the ground,
we are here to stay,
fixated on an astronomical alignment
two stars, illuminated:
you and i

but in this lifetime,
you burn too bright
an imperfect heat that scathes the skin
gravity pulls me from my dreams
and keeps me orbiting around reality
we drift slowly past,
brushing briefly, only
long enough to believe i know you
but in a moment, when
time and space disagreed
our propinquity lasts a lifetime
Sep 2019 · 375
chocolatier
Tiger Striped Sep 2019
when he grows up
he'll be a chocolatier, he supposes.
yes, a chocolatier.
what dim light holds money
compared with the brilliance of cocoa's richness?
many times he traded a crisp dollar bill
to the cashier, for a Hershey's bar —
the cashier, he knew, had drawn the shorter straw.
he could not understand big people
in their big buildings
with their big cups of coffee,
aching with bitterness all day long.
what they needed, after all, was a bar of chocolate.
what do you like to do? they'd ask him, those big bitter people.
sometimes he wondered the same thing —
what did they like to do?
did they like to sit at their big desks
and hope for bigger checks, someday?
he knew what he liked to do.
“i like to make people happy,” he told them,
“and i like to eat chocolate.”
they laughed at him, sometimes.
he didn't think it was funny,
but he liked to see them smile.
"would you like some chocolate?" he'd ask.
they would look confused, almost
like they weren't sure he was talking to them.
they said sure, they wouldn't mind some
chocolate, and he
would give those big people
a little piece of chocolate.
but their eyes would ask him what their
mouths would not:
why?
he was practicing, he said,
to be a chocolatier.
Sep 2019 · 563
vestiges
Tiger Striped Sep 2019
at the tips of my fingers
and in the palms of my hands
on the backs of my eyelids, where sleep should be
between fanciful flower petals, dead since long ago
upon the fabric of my dress, where your hand met my waist
within books and doors slammed shut, a restless cacophony
from falling rain, polluted by quixotic aspiration
under the breath swept from my mouth,
in a prayer that i am not in love with you
Sep 2019 · 418
angel
Tiger Striped Sep 2019
if you had never fallen from heaven, i would not have loved those broken wings. if your blood did not trail into my house, you would not lay on my couch as i wrapped you up. i've heard heaven is lovely, free of pain and brokenness — but when you are whole, you do not need someone to complete you. no one looks after you, or asks you how you are. but there is only so long i can tend to your wounds. so why, after all these years, do you not spread your wings to fly? did you really fall from heaven, or did you jump?
Sep 2019 · 591
Midas
Tiger Striped Sep 2019
You emerged from the breaking dawn
glittering to rival the rising sun.
Molten gold dripped
from the tips of your fingers;
shimmering dust encrusted your footprints.
Had our paths not crossed,
I'd not be frozen here;
a statue of fool's gold,
the work of your touch.
But I'm stuck in your kingdom,
watching the golden age
waiting until you wash your hands in the river
and come back to me —
you are cursed with the Midas touch,
and I am cursed for making you king.
Sep 2019 · 115
the story of us
Tiger Striped Sep 2019
he warmed her edges until she
caught flame,
so she might burn bright like
him.
he splintered her spine and
peeled words back from pages,
flung them to the wind.
now the pavement is wet with
the shreds of her,
flushing away the last vestiges
of who she was.
she was once a book
with his name written in red
in every chapter.
each of the stories shared,
cautionary tales
thrown on the ground and
trampled under careless foot —
but all at once,
in a furious storm, he
tore himself away,
and even she cannot make sense
of what is left behind.
Tiger Striped Sep 2019
sand drifts down deserted beach
leaves float off once vibrant trees
lashes left untouched on cheek
curtains shut the bright sun bleak
endless hours of midnight sound
bruised knuckles on dark wood pound
sound of sheets sigh on mattress
second-hands strike drum and miss
misspelled words, soft spoken steps
lonely rose, the last one left
no air in two burning lungs
dead garland on mantle hung
dust dances for aimless wind
sunflowers to ashes bend
salt vacates a brackish sea
empty woods hold silent plea
never-ending days to come
deeper nights, but brighter sun
Sep 2019 · 670
one of a kind
Tiger Striped Sep 2019
you should see the way the
sunflowers swivel to stare at you;
your shadow outshines the sun.
you walk through beehives and
emerge dripping in honey.
haven't you noticed the
sparrow on your windowsill; she
sings her sweet song
solely for your sake!
and the wildflowers that
blossom in your footprints
and the wavelets that ripple
from your words —
don't you hear your name beneath the
rustling of the leaves and the
crackling of the fire and the
whistling of the wind?
if nature marvels at the
magnificent masterpiece you are, then
so should you
Sep 2019 · 137
first kiss
Tiger Striped Sep 2019
i wanted you
to reach beneath my ribs
and touch my heart
but your fist fractured my feeble bones
your jagged fingernails scraped
the insides of my lungs
my nerves screamed but i
could not find the breath to protest
as your hands ripped vein after vein
my cracked lips shaped forgotten words
but you weren't looking at me
you were admiring your scarlet skin
when you caught my lip between
your teeth i
could ******* own blood
you promised me this was
how it was supposed to feel
but when you pulled back you
left my heart hanging
in my ribboned chest
it was months until i
learned to believe that
i would ever find
breath there again
Feb 2019 · 166
for better or worse
Tiger Striped Feb 2019
i weave you into the words i write
in the hopes
that there,
you'll stay
out of mind
but there's no hope of getting you out of my heart
Feb 2019 · 195
abandon
Tiger Striped Feb 2019
you were the first brushstrokes
in the backdrop of my painting
the tangling colors,
colliding like comets
against an inky black sky
every day, with your knife you
peeled away the paint
leaving shadows
in the shape of you
i did not notice
until you were too far gone
the blackness
where your vividness had once been
i felt it
at the core of my being
you can pretend
you were never here
you can pretend
love and hate are miles apart
but i still hold the scraps of that painting
the canvas with
your footprints and
your tire marks and
the smears from your fingers
and i still feel you
at the tips of my fingers
Jan 2019 · 236
still miss you
Tiger Striped Jan 2019
i should have known
the day you drove the wrong way
on the interstate
to steer clear of your path
we did not have to be in love
for you to leave a hole in my heart
Jan 2019 · 869
the brightest star
Tiger Striped Jan 2019
you were the rising sun
creeping over my horizon,
filling my skies with dazzling bursts
of deep ambers and lavenders and crimsons
sending heat waves coursing through me
brushing the edges of my clouds
your silhouette imprinted on my eyelids
your shadow stuck to my feet
your taste scorched the roof of my mouth
i felt you in every inch of my skin
and i didn't mind at all
Jan 2019 · 538
you were glass all along
Tiger Striped Jan 2019
You always had to be strong but I
wanted to believe I could see through you
I traced your outline and
tried not to flinch when you
sliced my fingertips

I quickly learned that love is not fear
fear is when you called me
and told me you didn't love your father
your words wrapped around my throat and
pressed heavy on my chest and I
finally felt you
not in my heart but in
the marrow of my bones

You had seen things that I
could not bear to hear but I
had to bear them for you
I heard your mother's leg snap
and you shatter on the ground and I
stood over the fractures of you with
my needle and thread and
cried for the parts of you that would
never be the same

then I picked up a shard
and carved your name in my skin so I
could see you in rich, romantic crimson
but as the tides rose, I
inhaled the ocean water, I
let go of your hand, I
let my tears join the salty expanse
and swore on that night I
would never cry again

The dawn broke and the sun saw
a different world, with
your broken pieces at the bottom
of the sea, and
the soles of my feet have healed, but
you still sleep in the sand, scraping
the skin of those who have strayed
too far from the surface.
Jan 2019 · 495
wasted words, ii
Tiger Striped Jan 2019
as i left
i set fire
to every word i ever wrote for you
so that it meant
as much to me
as it did to you
nothing at all
Jan 2019 · 555
originality
Tiger Striped Jan 2019
since we learned to speak, we have only
spat out the words before us
repeating remarks we hear and see
with impotent intonation;
the pretense to make it our own
we are watery reflections
longing to move freely, by ourselves;
to feel the wind whip wildly 'round
to scrape our knees on uneven ground
but we lie on the surface,
repetition rippling through our shallow skin
perhaps, one day, we shall learn
to stand
and to create
Jan 2019 · 564
the letters of your name
Tiger Striped Jan 2019
i know that soon
you'll be gone
out of sight
but i will still see you
between the lines of my favorite book
hear you
in the songs of my favorite cd
taste you
in the sugar in my coffee every morning

darling, you'll be
the space between the stars
and the dips of the moon
you'll be the crashing wave
that keeps knocking me off my feet
and the salt in the tears on my cheek
so forgive me if i do not say goodbye --
i'll be seeing you again
Jan 2019 · 350
My Plans for the Evening
Tiger Striped Jan 2019
Tonight I'll wear
the black dress that never left my closet
hear it rip when the
backs of my thighs meet the cold piano bench
my stiff fingers will scratch the keys,
eliciting aching ivory groans
I'll wear it in the shower and shiver
as icy water skims my skin
I'll press our polaroids to my tongue
and chew you up
you'll stick to the roof
of my mouth when I swallow
and my skin will turn angry red
because my body always knew
what a bad idea you were.
I'll wear my youth like a medallion
hanging where my heart should be
and soon my red eyes will
forget what it feels like to blink.
The hairs on my arms will
stand on end as my
fingernails scrape the tile on my bathroom floor
tracing the lines of old poems I burned
in your fire.
I'll bite my cracked lips, just to
remember what regret tastes like
and with hot blood fresh on my tongue,
I'll stumble to your empty house
drag my bare feet in your driveway and
silently beg you to ask me how I am.
I'll shatter your bedroom window and
almost glimpse you through the haze and
when my knees buckle I'll
collapse where your bed used to be
and for a split second
I'll think it was you beneath the sheets.
Aren't I beautiful, darling?
I wore this dress for you
Jan 2019 · 248
you are my dream
Tiger Striped Jan 2019
before you
my mouth and pen were dry
now poetry
rushes through my veins
pours out of my fingertips
flows from my mouth
you keep my head spinning
with words
and i need more and more and more and more of you
Jan 2019 · 175
last defense
Tiger Striped Jan 2019
i pressed my lips
to your skin
and prayed
you would feel it in
your heart
Next page