julianne hough
I wonder what dry shampoo they had u using gf

Magnolia flowers!
Close your bloodshot eyes.
It's time to pray
for mercy in the manufactured marathon.
You'll not be running, or?
May their flesh match souls,
And words detail what is.

It looks so ridiculous
But those shoulders?
Let them watch

Perfect
Desired accessories were never necessities
Born as you were, are as you’re meant.

I’ll reach to you
When the clock is right,
Which is twice a day
In this instance per lifetime.

I’ve swung and missed
Could’ve sworn you cared
I hope by February
It’s something else in the air

Fireworks
Fireflies
Firecrotch

Why do I recite
Conversations every night
Waiting to be told
What's wrong or right

You used to hold me dear
Whisper nothings in my ear
Where did it all skew so…

For many hours,
Two or three,
Pages flipped by too dry fingers.
Lick the thumb,
Flip and balance on my chest,
Neck angled oddly.
Training and straining
My scarred retinas
Begging for some timely fatigue

No recycling
Dump your garbage here

You’ll stumble, stutter
My gesture, you sat.
End with a bump

Strangers and Irish car bombs
Intervention, mortal if anything.

Coolant pooling on the ground
A pinhole in my tank
If anyone is making tiers
Put Chevy in lower ranks

Still recognized
With my lone 2 eyes
Nobody brushing my shoulder.
Enjoy it for yourself?
How

Caramel latte,
***** chai,
Smiley wrinkles that outline your eye.
I’m happy for you,
And the same me to I,
For all that we longed for, we never could buy.

Louder than me
He sat in your seat
The pasta was better
Communication more clear
But I still want to puke all the time
I’m no better, wish I was
I actually am it just feels pointless and it’s easy
To cave

All he wanted
Was to feel the pages against his fingers
Engulf his mind in something new
Or old perhaps, different.
Everything bled together, the pages are now muddied
Dedications confused with conclusion

Off we go, to the streets to find distraction
Anything beats dreaded solitude
When did this begin?
Between The Box Car Children and Jung

Eternally longing for knowledge.
A jolly laugh at my Christmas list
For a book with more pages.
**** and Jane, it is.

May one who understands
Identical puzzles will seldom link,
And gaps to be filled is the beauty.
A lapse is an opportunity,
Not to rejuvenate but construct new

Suction and pressure pulling my finger
Yes, baby, I felt the quiver
Don't sit up, stay there
That was all I needed

For me to be
Part of whatever that is
And have any chance at enjoying it
I have to change the make up of my brain.

Is there a kiosk for that at Sephora?

Baby blew.
The wind carries and will continue to,
indefinitely until hues unrecognizable
pass you by. You don’t bat an eye.
Chest pings, our Morse code transcending
The distance placed, and
never closed.
Preferring the perpendicular to the parallel?
Just you,
Baby’s blue.

I invited you platonically.
And what I said was true.
I’m not in the business of asking others to do what they can’t do.
But I would not lie,
I’d try to find some chartable avenues;
Because as I touch myself in certain spots
The name I think is you.

the most painful band aid i've ever ripped
eye opening, too much so it hurts
i can't shut them again

i'll never see that darkness
birthdays won't be shocking
i deserve to age and experience

the release of a trauma bond
i can't help but see it everywhere around me
i see myself in everyone now

treated the worst, told you're the best.
they do the bare minimum
i pick up the rest
it's heavy.

support isn't selfish, who taught me that?
did my parents want me to be like them?
i won't feel miserable again.

they wanted a mommy, not a partner
my mommy married a man like him.
i never learned what love looked like
so i did whatever i could
took whatever i was gotten.

abuse
am i this worthless? should i quit?
no. not life. just him.

draw back the curtains, get burnt by the light
let the realizations heal my wounds
i'll never do that again.

oh spirit guides, i've learned this time.
i do not need this lesson again

Her nose turned up
She looked aside
Whether I struck a cord or fell on deaf ears
We could always wonder
Though it seems easier to just trust in yourself
And remember your tea tastes better

All along.
The driver never questioned if the windshield was worthy of being clean or *****.
He just scrubbed the **** off and left the dirt water in the tub.
My mother once told me people **** in those.

By the water,
Ants on my legs;
I’ll let them use me as a bridge.
They have yet to bite,
Sting or bother,
As much as the flash
When I saw you beside me,
Hair blocking my view from the boat ramp.
That fluffy, flannel hat.

Reading through squints.
The pages reflecting the sun back,
Many reminders I will soon make my own.
The hills dotted with families,
Lovers,
Loners.
Don extends his hand and teaches me,
About his kids, grand girls and losses.
The water cracks against the rocks.
I’ll think of him as I hear symphonic cries,
Reminiscing my youth,
Forgetting you again, fondly this time.
We deserve the chance,
And I hope we end up like Don

The adrenaline when facing the gun
Feels a lot better than pride lost
Walking away,
But realizing discomfort in safety
Benefits longer than awaiting the
Unsure -
Rather the less likely,
Putting a target on my back heavier
Than I was ever destined to bear.
Wishing the shooter well
Knowing someday I’ll be held by one
With pillow arms
And a softer heart.

Missouri
I'll awaken myself to avoid bearing witness
The ex of my first became the rebound of my last
No ******* way

your passenger seat sits empty
thoughtless tears fill the page
scribbling as shading
messy derives definition.
where the wind has taken
two longing souls we may never know
but longing for that eggnog grin,
flannel wrapped yellow rose
two toned raincoat and not
pinky gold
opal, no, maybe emerald.
you’ve remained the most
beautiful, you’ll not
understand, but
hopefully at last
you see.

I need to Google what poetry actually is.
I will then write a poem about corn!
Elotes, man.
Amen.

Now knows
What it feels like
To get your ears pierced at Claire's

My brain knows more
Than my body does
Which is unfavorable and makes me ignorant
To what feelings and emotions go together
But I somehow always wake up in time
To make it where I need to be
On very few hours of sleep
And that productivity
(The illusion of such, rather)
Keeps most afloat
As we drown

All’s well that ends well
All’s well that end swell
Ol’s well that ins dwell
Ol swelt hat..
Ends?
Well
ol’s felt hat ends
Before his nose,
He lies

Never as verbose,
Frankly couldn’t get close
But lord knows one’d yearn to try.

Tree bark wrinkles,
Decorating the curves;
Leaves vained and beginning to dry.

Throwing feet down a path;
Faux catches in photograph,
Pondered properly, one’d silently cry.

Your namesake echos;
You’d never accept nor believe,
But lord knows I’d yearn to try.

A fraud, or an illusion
Just find different ways of saying the same ****
Over and over
Lets get back to grunting

A **** in my ribs,
It burns in an electric feel
unlike love.
Who kicked me in the chest?
The consistent prodding is nothing but
the opposite of what you advocate for.
How are you so blind?
How blindsided could one really be?
Not very.
Yet the wind has been taken from my sails,
and the humidity creeps in
to choke me.

He licks,
And licks,
And licks,
Until he’s bald.

Never picked it up,
I saw you called.

Newfound band resistance -
Will is walled.

Shaking hands struggling to
get him to his feet.
My heart pings painfully,
following the pull.
“May I help you?”
He agrees.
Reminded of my former days,
Grasping his soft, warm hand.
“I just need to get my feet under me.”
My heels slip on the ferry’s tile,
two others are urged to assist.
Wishing him well into the elevator,
my mind feels heavy until we dock.
Wondering who he used to be, and
how something so harsh can overtake a human

it's thick and makes my head hurt
torn between sleeping it off knowing that never works
repeating feels like peeling slowly
the burning never gets easier
i can see myself spiraling
nobody should catch me
why do i hate spinning but don't put my feet down

Rushing the clock
Never knowing when is too early
Until it’s impossibly late

I search for you in places that I know you’ll never be.
Assured the last thing you would want to find unprompted? Me.
Though I know that’s false, and love has ways of making far seem close,
And the beauty in the vastness makes me think of you the most.
Guaranteed your time is filled with goals both big and small.
I’m proud of you, although I’m sure that means the least of all.
Perception is a fickle thing, mine never sold to trust.
But the memories are palpable,
And on those? I’d bank or bust.

I’ve seen so many places,
Faces, held the far and wide.
Mass amounts of *******,
You’d never believe what I took in stride.
Though another lie, as you taught me to take things and show strong -
If only I’d determined what was right and could be wrong.
Yet here I sit, stationary at last, the hardest challenge to date.
Dissecting the most convoluted,
Acceptance no easy feat.

So I’ll allow myself the guilty pleasure
Of looking for your head,
In crowded rooms and maybe sometimes laying in my bed.

Who's keeping score?
Your soul echos.
You don't keep anybody around to celebrate.
Using utilities unpaid by you..
It was never about the **** you stole; I can admit the projection. An *******, nonetheless, and you'd agree in a moment of honesty.
Recognizing you must've needed someone to feel the way you've felt.
How lucky am I to be your catalyst!

Okay Mrs. VP

Hermes, Hermes,
What's it today?
You provoke them, spewing the things that you say.
Talking misfortunes in an upbeat way,
Skewing perception-
Quite the boastful display.

Moving, persuading, audiences of your play,
Could not have anticipated the anguish at bay.
'A catalyst,' You'd proclaimed,
Eyes revealing the dismay
The windows to your soul are in shambles
"Right this way!"

Down the winding paths where memories shall lay,
You'd brought my brother by here last May.
Nostalgic glimpses of family, a price to pay.
"Farewell, false wise one. Hope you took time to pray."

On my feet,
Under my nails.
You don’t want to be found.
I envy that too much to respect it.
I’d never understood shame,
But as everyone who you love deeply
Drifts away,
“Drifts,”
One might wonder how I can’t smell my own stink.
Welcome to Florida!
You’ll never see that phone again

This mushy couch,
I’m clammy and warm -
Crying about the wrong dad being taken
When suddenly
The therapist turns,
A knock is heard,
Many - rather.
A ladder appears
And a dude with a belt
Far too big for his stature.
He climbs and cleans
And makes me laugh,
And my asthmatic therapist
Takes us on a walk instead.
Uphill! It is humid
We both pant and sweat
I haven’t ditched the juul
The way the rug was pulled
Back we go
To the mushy couch
With the clammy pillow

Unfathomable,
Committing to wed, before one is able to drive.
Reliant on each other,
complete disarray
if tragedy suddenly arrives.
And it will, you see,
your claim to fame being all you can ***** about.
Both parents have passed by 50,
before self care you'd choose to shout.
Though I can't say much,
I suppose as a single,
with admittedly much to lose.
I just find it sad
when two will settle
not knowing what's out there to choose.

your heart was
heavy, yet held
mine, and my arms
were weak, but
the sponge never
filled and when
I wring it out
there’s shades of you
Everywhere

Of all that I've admired,
And every thorn needing a place to stick.
I just remembered Scrub Daddies.
I chastised one's mommy kink one time -
A shame as I didn't really care.
He was 6'6 and I just needed a snack.
Someone wring out the sponge.

Everything I love
Escapes with claw marks
And bruises they won’t discover
Until it matters

I’m so sorry
I didn’t want to
I miss you