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2.7k · May 2014
hydrogen and helium II
wolf mother May 2014
if she had asked me, then
"Do we all die?"
i would have answered in a solemn sigh:
"Of course we do."
the realism impenetrable, the grounded logistics.

she asks me now
"Can we exist in other dimensions?"
and i reply, with a taxed, drudging honesty:
"I have."
1.5k · Oct 2013
the scent of me:
wolf mother Oct 2013
lavender
lilacs
blueberries and cream

the scent of you:

ammonia
sweet ether
acrid chemicals

the scent of us:

plucked, withered and putrid purple flowers, blueberry pie
and
***
1.4k · Jan 2014
broken poem
wolf mother Jan 2014
betwixt by your memory
on eves of somber silhouettes
negative temperatures and mindsets

funny how i ran our love into the ground
naked promises are a shiver and a steamed mirror
camaraderie, a dying breed

broken motors and broken bones
broken silence and broken homes
broken me
1.3k · Jun 2013
goodnight, moon
wolf mother Jun 2013
the season you lost your innocence it rained exceptionally hard
and all the kindergarteners that would come over to sing and swing and chant in the yard
started to frown in your direction
or half-smile with a cloudy membrane sheltering their eyes to you, or so it seemed

and people would walk their dogs with a tighter leash, afraid that they could smell
your ruin

ing body, plastered in a cold, hardened defeat...uneasy sweat

and you took off that child-like headband you'd been wearing for months on end
a little worn now, that terrible periwinkle satin and lace

too Lo Li Ta for liking
now that you finally knew what it was like to be a ******* in the lion's den
1.1k · Mar 2014
O
wolf mother Mar 2014
O
touchstones around my neck
little purple precipice
tips caress
wet scar tissue
plastic surgeon amiss
slice, two, three, four
in and out of the cavern
enveloped in sadness
keep my eyes glued to his
in the throws of passion
cover my orifice
is it over?
writhing, bones ruining
my chance of circumcision
"You know, I become like an intruder. And behind those closed lids, you know, her eyes are now rolled all the way around and staring intently inward into some void where l, who sent them, can’t follow.” —David Foster Wallace, Brief Interviews with Hideous Men
1.1k · Jun 2013
I
wolf mother Jun 2013
I
summertime sadness
curtains pulled tightly, thick lashes
american spirit fading into mechanics
people moving with faces hot as the embers
the ashes dropping from my cancer stick, citizens

told to embrace their pride and freedom
how can I join them when I don't need them?
patriots, ignoramus culture
dreaming with eyes clamored shut, little emotion
zombie status, a rose-colored illusion

i plant the astilbe in the ***
dianthus, echinacea
fighting words never said, nor thought
watering cans filled with poison, over easy
the banging on the gate is loud and *****
1.1k · Jun 2014
hurry down sunshine
wolf mother Jun 2014
moonshine on the lawn
amish rocking chair, creaking listlessly in the white wind snapping
howls
murdering crows with a swallow
fists to barking dogs and the dead bark, we are the 99%
of deadness on trees
only you are the leaves and root tips and phloem that thrives under the weight of dead things
and death
1.0k · Jun 2015
Seedling
wolf mother Jun 2015
I am but

a nesting doll, the outermost encasement
chipped from years of fumbling awkwardness, or purposeful
resentment
nicked and scratched by ***** hands pulsating unsteadily
growing impatient in
attempting to reach the innermost layer
the consolation for hard work and determination

the drool on your collar after the too-long, too-soon snooze on the bus
when you missed your stop and any of the alternates to reach the ultimate destination
a rotten half-eaten apple on hiatus from mouths trying to push away the impending scolding from doctors and dentists
who knew it had already been too late to make significant enough change
to prevent disease

the cigarette **** snuffed out by New Year's Resolutions
and good riddance

I am, by no particular consensus or consent

a small chime, at half-past nine from the old grandfather clock out of sync with the natural order of things
that cannot project its sound too far, but persists in stubborn hostility
not a blaring warning or reminder
but an insignificant tick and
a sad little attempt at notification

a faint headache
a dying balloon
a cry in the night when everyone is listening to radio shows
or the kind of opera that pierces the skull
futile and distant, muted
unspoken for
unnoticed

I am also, surprisingly,

the feeling you get before crossing the train tracks into new territory
or climbing the stairs after months of elevator riding due to the injury you'd incurred trying to prove to them you didn't have two left feet

the notion that time stands at the forefront
and the line of fire is a black hole
where warped memories are welcomed in hasty pleas

I am

a whisper of defeat when the pine trees collapsed in the middle of that summer upheaval, steaming and desperate
and out for the politics
turned into the
knotty pine paneled walls
that DIYers frown upon

But I am especially
the pearl of an oyster
gouged out
and taken to
someone who could decipher worth of shiny, iridescent things...its clarity, salability
a pearl now on a strand of comrades—lifeless pearls
in Chinatown, under the ruse of glamour and bargaining chips and great steals

certainly on clearance
and pushed on the people as inconvenience
a misuse of table space
and getting one-overs
or semi-precious insults
from tourists
who guffawed
at the feeble attempt
to turn a profit

eventually to be
tossed with slightly bitter nonchalance
into a black garbage bag,
thrown onto the sidewalk
and feasted upon by
seasonally elephantine rats
as they swallow the waste
from careless excess
and plastic soul collectors

yes
it's true that
I am,
with disdain,
especially and most certainly,
that pearl
987 · Mar 2014
crisp
wolf mother Mar 2014
carve it out with a melon-baller
take me down to the river's edge and drown me in my own blood and spit

i don't need a **** heart
912 · Nov 2013
take what you will, you sob
wolf mother Nov 2013
i'm wasting my young years
on a phony from Nordeast
and a lipstick stained cigarette

the night air feels contrived again
as i lay my wrists out in the open for him

do as you please
***** dog, you
take what you will
lashes on the throat

i don't care much for sympathy
empathy and the like
i don't care much for sensitivity

not when the moon's full and i'm ready to pounce

there's beauty in the ****
profound treachery in the wait
908 · May 2014
how to leave an addict
wolf mother May 2014
it's not that i didn't tell you to stay
it's that my face had been flattened
to a degree unrecognizable, unable to express emotion
eroded by too many acid raindrop-tears
and too many vicarious hits
of that ........ you covet more
than the newborn child ... years away in my stomach
we will not see light
you cannot make it fill the cavity between your selfish molars
and my cavernous ribcage
you can slash the curtains all you want, but the sun don't like you no more
and i barely love you
(even though it cannot dissipate more than it has)
and you won't admire me as a stolen sabertooth
all the crest whitening strips you fed to me
to protect me from the plaque building up
in my voice box
in my lexicon
are in the trash now, honey
i don't give a **** how yellow i'm getting
and if you really loved me
you'd not care either

but you have this need to place all theoretical constructs
on a ******* pedestal above you
like heaven
and happiness
and love
like they are unreachable for you because
you have short arms
and short legs
short ambition
short breath
and so you keep pushing various cleaning utensils toward me
brushes
mops
loufas
and i eat them
i swallow the bleach and plastic and mesh whole
like i've swallowed your feigned empathy
your lack of morality

and i'll regurgitate them for our (never to be) child
when .... is born
and i'll say "here, ............, look...look at all your father left you"
and i'll eat the placenta
and i'll purge it
and maybe by then
i'll have learned how to teach
our never to be had child
how to leave an addict
900 · Apr 2014
the fable of us
wolf mother Apr 2014
when you're there i pine for you
like a stupid little intellectual
i theorize your face

make up stories about your eyelids
how they close like a hardcover book
sheltering your wisdom from the judge

you let it spill out to me
your ***** brine
tenderizing my leathery exterior
into broken down, cured meat
you freed me with your trust
i was savory, salty with your laughter on my tongue

you've been waiting for me
but i cannot come
if we are to ever be in the same room again, together
i would smother you and oppress you with
love, tainted by imaginary things
like the fable of us
like my contentment

like your hand in mine
                                         clasping surely,
                                                                ­     silently,
                                                                ­                                                    home
896 · Feb 2014
BOO
wolf mother Feb 2014
BOO
making a playlist titled you you you
taking a pill at the **** zoo
******* fools wasted on the pavement
chasing waists on the pavement

i'm tired of these ******* games you're playing
tic tac toes on the cusp of my aortic valve
**** hippocratic oath falsifying fingerprints

i am to you, just an oddball goodfornothing sonofabitch
semi-sweet curvature of the lungs
tar-coated nail-biting feminist *****
some uppity analyzing self-righteous bore

well *******, too, then
*******, too
i'll do alright in the world, got some chew
that i'll spit out a rhyme with, all that hullabaloo
i am those whos, on a dead *** dandelion making wishes on elephants (such buffoons)
and finding that donkeys are nothing but mumbling tools
roughass
893 · Mar 2014
grits bones
wolf mother Mar 2014
we were born by the gutter
we had litter in our gumption
we had message bottles fastened to us
we were lost in the sewer
we had skeleton key fingers
we had listless macabre sockets
we were offered to the tides
we had salt water tears in our orifices
we had grits bones in our teeth
we were consumed by the gutter
we were defaced in the sewer
we were sired to the tides
we were fetal in the ocean
we were atomic to the sea
813 · Dec 2013
LAST. x-mas
wolf mother Dec 2013
i find myself chain-smoking like a *****
anxiety boiling my stomach inhibition-free
**** expectations falling empathetically at my feet
trees coated in creations of misapprehension and misery
and a phone call away from contentedness

i won't put down the **** drugs
i'm not taking the ******* meds
i won't pass the test, make the grade, make 'em proud
i won't embrace the icy clamor of my tongue
and i'd sooner break my fingers than dial his digits
715 · Jan 2014
is it real?
wolf mother Jan 2014
writing a poem about how you really feel
is perplexing, perturbing
when you do not know
whether you feel a thing at all

numbness or coldness
dramatics or monotone
i am one of two extremes
neither allowing them to see
the space in between
that holds the truest emotions i am incapable of expressing
the truest emotions i am incapable of exerting
i am incapable of knowing
wolf mother May 2014
and that was it
you said your piece, however shallow it may be
(although the depths of you could fill the most desolate valley)
and you didn't even say goodbye

you didn't even say goodbye
which shouldn't confuse or surprise me
for your goodbyes now are fleeting, thoughtless, and cold

i thought about you for a minute, or an hour...a while
and i stopped looking for the right words
because i knew they'd never come
(as i'll never come, and you'll never leave my blood thirsty, orange heart)

i'd waited for you, for touches that never were
for solace, elopement, truth
but you're fading as the color from my cheeks
the little that lingered
from the first time you said "i love you"

i had no need to write it down then, because your words had been
my face
one with the underwater world
the infinite life residing in me

now your words float on my surface,
not etched or engrained or all encompassing
but poorly tossed aside
to land, wherever the wind might blow them

and i knew then, with the lack of resonating
that your resignation had been sent
over the airways
and that my heart was leaps behind
my brain
had already suppressed your name
668 · Apr 2014
bane of my existence
wolf mother Apr 2014
we are nothing but the wind
as it howls to the wolf
that's baffled by the sun
and every blessed bullet
648 · Mar 2014
timbre timber
wolf mother Mar 2014
if i was a twig
maybe i'd be able to sleep

trunks are fussy
roots are cumbersome
and you, you are but the smallest bud
a dying breed, a life everlasting
see-saw my wood-rot rings
and make a use for me, will you?

i am nothing but oldwivestales and folk songs
with long-forgotten lyrics
and misread meanings

misdiagnosed
misused
mistaken for
missed
631 · Aug 2013
awaken (10w)
wolf mother Aug 2013
in patient
impatient
silence shuttering sodomized scars
seeing red reluctantly
606 · Oct 2013
and you let him go
wolf mother Oct 2013
just like that
the cat's cradle wasn't as comforting as it had been
with its mobiles and plush star-covered blankets
promising endless infinity
destinies meant for the brightest beacons

just like that
i heard the cat hissing and howling into the desolate
pit of woe that became my stomach
and ******* on faded pictures of stolen youth
warm bottles of milk and honey

just like that
ribs cracked at the piercing hiss
narrowing eyes ignited with rage and fear
and skin wasn't so fragile
now holding fables of forgotten dawns and meteor showers

and just like that
i watched him fall from the 17th story
whooshing elegantly
cracking a smug grin
and narrowing his eyes to the sun's unwelcome fire
596 · Jun 2013
?
wolf mother Jun 2013
?
can i lie awake in the sadness of your broken hand?

can i call you up when i find the band aids are contaminated by childhood dares?

I don't know if i can call you mine with a care
like I had in those julys, sleeping there
hair intertwined
carnivorous and bare

can i say your name in the stillness of the fire while they laugh in awe at my gracelessness?

is it fair?

do they know it has always been there?
590 · Jun 2013
i've lost count
wolf mother Jun 2013
your fractured wrist beckons slowly to the pinky
carefully moonlight denies your pleas
can you see what it's done to you
the bugs are whispering
break his knees
did i say i loved you once
underneath the willow, examining a fallen twig
did i look up at the light and tell you you were golden and green

i didn't find the answers to your questions that summer or the one after that
my words are barren
a glass desert


and i'm sorry i don't know how to love after the battles have been won
when it's not unrequited
when you're finally within reach

i'm sorry i become a ***** shell
a wordless mouth
a quiet stare, making noises between the ears
never loud enough to hear
wolf mother Dec 2014
physical space
is smaller than the places between your fingers
resting pen
in the webbed, intertwining narratives
scribbled with fervor

it is no greater than the consequences of past lives
it                                is
       no                       farther
              than               Andromeda's
separate     beacons
  
it is less determined than my fragility

it is but a monument
shellacked in lost diplomacy
erected in dishonor/honor of all i am that you will never know
it is purposeful, tactful
embalmed,
for i cannot plan for inadequacies glaring, jeering
bare as my writhing body in night terrors, barren as my future
i'm always planning for things that do not exist here

i can only be one vulnerability at a time
they can never have all of me
what i want to give you is contradictory to what i'm willing
i buried my will for sunnier days
when my mind thinks less clearly
when my mind is not as rational, as matter of fact
when i, for a fleeting moment, am worthy of your touch
your eyes on every lookout,

on every break
in lines—

jagged edge
556 · Apr 2014
cardiac muscle (10 w)
wolf mother Apr 2014
phantom heart
you're not it
not impenetrable enough
murmuring, waning
518 · Jun 2014
raw isn't always healthy
wolf mother Jun 2014
beat me to a pulp
you've never cared for me in your breakfast cup

strained
spit or left out
512 · Nov 2013
phone calls for prisoners
wolf mother Nov 2013
he doesn't love me anymore
took the fresh end of the ***** and carved his name
into the garden i built just for his elbows
i should have known it when the daffodils and iris'
uprooted and left me there to curate and press my own skin for memories
he needed a mother and i gave him the honeysuckle promises
he wanted more and i dismissed his affections
now he's found someone who will only give him depth of one kind
penetrating the body, not the mind
wolf mother Oct 2014
You're not a good listener.
You're just good at making silence look meaningful.
wolf mother Mar 2014
should the sun bite my lower lip
and moon forge goodbyes
i will cut the blades of the sea-foam waves
and hide within your tempestuous eyes

so long my love, so long first love
until we meet in the bluest fire
tease the light out with your wits
a siren song, a salt-soaked liar
496 · Mar 2014
fears
wolf mother Mar 2014
Closeness.*

Why must I retreat when I should be putting up a fight?
Always flight
Doesn't my body know the **** difference between danger and certain death?
490 · Oct 2014
pariahs
wolf mother Oct 2014
if i am the messiah
are you flesh?
484 · Oct 2013
finish it
wolf mother Oct 2013
in a body
i am trapped
dissociate and don't divulge
dis-closure means death
483 · May 2014
*insert name here*
wolf mother May 2014
we do not touch, but i still know
we're phoenixes
next time, we'll get it right
next time, i'll write your name and scream your name and love you until the farthest star's light finally makes it to earth and dies out quietly
like the milky way is in your ribs
and your breath, your carcinogens
is existence, is the only galaxy i'll ever begin to fathom
only beginning, for there are not enough light years to
uncover the breadth and depth of your immutable soul
we will be beacons
everlasting flecks of consequence
reflecting in pools of young lovers
when the earth as we know it
is no longer in service
474 · Jan 2014
it's in these moments
wolf mother Jan 2014
it's in these moments
in waking hours of the day
as i lie restless in my tomb of colors
and the world opens its beady eyes
that i know
just how lonely i truly am
459 · May 2014
be
wolf mother May 2014
be
in a universe away
an alternate me
is also forever
writing about
an alternate you

and in the universe next
the same

will there be a day
when i put down the pens
rip finger-pads off keyboards
and, depending on my celestial address
bask in the moonlight
of our moon
or three moons
or eight moons?

only when the alternate you
and the alternate me
are star-crossed
no longer
and it's
our helium and hydrogen
spontaneously combusting
in every night sky
north this galaxy
and the one after that
and the one after that
and the one after that
443 · Oct 2014
to my child:
wolf mother Oct 2014
Me: blood.






               



           You: cells.
wolf mother Dec 2013
love is dead
god is dead

you're an angel with no habitat
372 · May 2014
1. truths (10w)
wolf mother May 2014
i would say we are over
but we never began
289 · Jul 2019
Resurfacing
wolf mother Jul 2019
Signal failed
Signature drooping
Telltale signs
Neurotransmitters: misfiring

Preoccupation,
Glitching phalanges
Losing grasp on reality
Creativity: collapsing

Paranoia resurfaces
Obsessions, obscure
Reduced to, as follows:
Fallacies: logical

Dissociation abundance
Time? Never on it
Obstacles: insurmountable
Retention? Improbable

Mimic and nod
Emotion: mirage
Glass full of emptiness

Present
As
Functional

— The End —