Irene

Irene Sep 2019

I stand, toes cold
beneath black sand.
The waves may be calm,
but I am all violence.
Neptune glows greatly above.
I've lost all fascination for constellations;
By now, I thought I would be
up there with them.

The dark sky burns ultraviolet,
my passion desaturated
by years of lost opportunities,
or maybe, by the storms
they predicted but never came.
Either way- I've come to know
disappointment like the scars on my knees.
I scream, Did you think I could ever forget?

Incomplete

Irene Aug 2019

Pangea

Pangea,
your splendor outweighs
all faults that you possess.
The pain you have endured
outweighs all blame bestowed upon you.
Naive nymph that you are,
there are truths in you
which I have forgotten.
At dawn, I hold your heart in my palm,
whispering forgotten songs and silly dreams,
as sunlight enters the earth
with a promise of bringing new regrets.

Irene Mar 2019

Loneliness in Progress

I miss you.
(Today especially).
I still find myself thinking:
maybe I just need to leave,
go as far as my dread may take me,
but clearly, that will never change
my aching heart.

So I skip along alleyways,
twirl under city starlight,
stomp down the concrete,
dancing-- Just give me one moment.
Please, just let me have the isolation
that's trapping me.

I would give anything now
to scream without anyone hearing,
to die without anyone finding
the body, (to find anyone that cares,
truly, truly, truly).

Every day I grow closer
to stopping and asking
the next stranger I see,
"Can we pretend that you're my best friend tonight?"

Can we pretend that I never left?
That you never stopped caring for me?

I miss you always,
today especially.

always a work in progress.

Irene Dec 2018

I'm Not Doing This to Make You Feel Bad for Me

I pedal until
there is no way to go faster
in the first gear.
  If there was a way for me to scream
  without you hearing,
  you never would have known.

In the dark,
I whisper words which
I'm not sure how to pronounce.
  I set the lamp light
  against the wall and admire
  the spinning of my shadow.

I've learned that happiness
is what I want
more than anything.

I've learned that God
does not have the time
to punish me.

work in progress

Irene Nov 2018

November

November has arrived.

I am waiting for the skin
on my knuckles to crack.
I could go out, but I will stay
and wait or my hair to dry.
When my lips become chapped,
I have lost nothing.

This is a ballroom
and I am spinning alone,
though arms await me.
I have forgotten how to be held,
though I remember how it feels.

When the buzz fades and the
lighting bugs hum,
It is something I hold onto
and keep for myself.

Irene Jul 2018

New Roads

It seems there is a line formed in my spleen
of people awaiting their turn to twist one of my ribs.
I never expected you to become one of them,
off-centering my whole being.

Somehow my tear-soaked eyes have forgotten
the ability to sleep, the tint of your lips.
It somehow feels wrong to pick out socks in the morning,
or to eat, even when my stomach is yearning.

I don't know which roads to take,
we've driven every single one;
and I can't wear that shirt because
you took it off of me once.

They tell me to enjoy the process.
Yes, I will learn to sing with
my right foot switched with my left,
And I will find solace in the pit I am digging in my stomach,

Until you quit yanking violently
on my bottom left rib.

Not a good poem, just having feelings

Irene Jul 2018

Second Love / Midsummer

Your bright, round almond
eyes and spider legs;
divine bones, lined up, perfect
for a tongue to run along.

I wrap myself in
your sweet scent; I smell my hands
to find sick comfort in
your absence.

If those branches were to
once more entangle mine,
should I never let you go,
caressing with kisses,
telling you what a daydream you are.