"chaz" poems
out of no where this morning,
I remembered the scars on your
stomach and wondered how on
earth you made it through your
earlier years when they tied the
tubes up in your chest.
Chaz said something like, "she said
he had this weird thing about that."
and I still felt the inherent need to
defend you. No, he never did
You were much softer around
me, a closed wardrobe that
slowly creaked open, maybe
I pried at first, but you
did.
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 11:17 AM UTC
chaz said something like;
*why don't you make yourself
your own standard?* and how
brilliant an idea that was, to
look to myself for inspiration?
Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 7:50 PM UTC
I am leaking silently,
like pipes beneath the kitchen sink
You find out that mold had nested, accumulated
in the corners and caused the floors to rise up
Heave their wooden planks and produce discoloration,
My chest is that floor and the water has
no place to go so it soaks and strains,
***** sighs, releases fluid in
t
e
n
d
r
i
l
s.
Mar 19, 2012
Mar 19, 2012 at 3:55 PM UTC
I always wondered when
I was going to stumble upon
one of your pictures, I ended
up realizing you're not pouting.
I didn't really want you to anyway
I've been doing the same things I
was doing with Chaz, trying out
the nun business trying to be the
****** freaking mary so as not to
hurt you, but I'm not actually
hurting you am I? Because you're
doing just fine and I don't need
to walk on eggshells, I love you
but I don't need to walk on
eggshells I LOVE YOU but
I don't need to walk on
******* eggshells.
I'm done pouting.
Aug 26, 2013
Aug 26, 2013 at 11:31 AM UTC
Dizzy luvs Lauren
woz ere 2001
This is a pile of –
Who sits here?
me
Chaz 4ever
woz ere 2002
English sux
Love you too babe
“I’m pretty sure this isn’t the function of a table.”
(A found poem using the graffiti found on an exam table)
Aug 20, 2010
Aug 20, 2010 at 2:24 PM UTC
Sometimes I still get a little
nervous when i see pictures
of you, and i assume there
are still angry bits hidden
out there but i haven't
thought about you in
a while, haven't cried
about you in a while
haven't done much
about you in a while
and you know what?
I think there is a such
thing as getting over
your first love because
I
got
over
you.
Aug 9, 2013
Aug 9, 2013 at 12:52 AM UTC
I don't want to see
you the same way
chaz wanted to see
me for three years
so we could mutually
brag and brazenly
wave our accomplishments
at one another, I don't know
why I want to see you, maybe
just to hear you talk, watch
your fingers look moist like
they usually did, take notice
of how many times you blink
is this how our love was different?
Feb 26, 2014
Feb 26, 2014 at 1:45 PM UTC
The way you look at me always ropes me back in
I try to stand on the other side
Avoiding your deep eyes
but regardless of how much I push
you pull
and i'm next to you
on the couch, on the armchair
I can see you watching me
yeah, I saw it all night
It's like there was no time lost
I feel like I'm 19
I realize I miss you
Your long lips, thumb following their lead
I thought I would die
Waiting to feel it all again
But I haven't died
and the chance never came
and I wait for a hard push
Against panels on the side of a house
For my legs to curl
as I'm lifted up
and we are secretly in love again
For a few drunken kisses
Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 12:34 AM UTC
I am just as bad
as you keeping
the wounded as
they are, Chaz.
Does this mean
I am the villain
as well?
Mar 18, 2013
Mar 18, 2013 at 11:22 AM UTC
I haven't been honest.
Chaz only sends me snaps of
bunched rosettas, I want to tell
him, *move your pitcher back
as the stacks form so that you
get a more elongated pour*
but I don't want to deter him
from correlating steamed milk
and espresso with my name, so
I don't. And he has a new girlfriend
now with slim fingers and defined nostrils
that make me think of Audrey Hepburn, so
at first I tried to insert myself into their bubble
to be a part of their happiness or maybe just
Audrey's beautifully sculpted features. But
to be honest I stopped talking to him
back in May or March because we had
this sort of thing that I didn't know
how to handle and so many girls
had handled his **** since then,
since me, that nothing felt like
it held any concrete significance,
pursuing whatever it was that I
was pursuing, would not make
me feel any more whole, which
was what I was aiming for.
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 1:44 PM UTC
i remember someone once saying
*oh, but you and Chaz were suppose
to be the ones who lasted* and now I
look back and wonder how I could
have ever thought I wouldn't be
able to live without him, how
on earth do I think any of
these things? I never
seem to be able to
see the bright
side.
Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 8:28 PM UTC
before the maroon 5 concert
chaz said his mom wasn't home
she had stripped his mattress and
put everything in the wash
and I only remember wondering
why it hurt so much
and the silk threads of the seams
catching on my bra straps--
I had thought it was
supposed to be so much more
than pumping and churning
like pistons in a truck,
the difference was you
stopped when I asked
shiverin' above me in
a warm sweat
and all i could do was
run my fingers through
your hair over and over
stay silent and move slowly
because no one has ever seen
me like that, wavering
and rocking, working my
way up, using your hips
like training blocks, stretching
my thighs out over your bed--
lord I ain't ever asked for more
never bruised nobody 'cause
I wasn't thinkin', he's got
these welts i don't even
remember, he sayin he let me
in like he left the door's open
during the storm and I was
rain, hail or wind, a noise,
a knock, just me.
but I opened the windows,
the basement, the attic
pulled out the chairs in
expectation, I have nothin'
to say for my fears, they're
there and sometimes they
shift gears and gun it
but that don't mean
i didn't look at you
and wonder about
things I shouldn't
or replace my daddy's
name with yours just
to
see.
May 2, 2017
May 2, 2017 at 10:19 AM UTC
I'm heartbroken over the news of Chester Bennington's suicide. He's been my inspiration for years. You will be missed, Chazzy Chaz. <3
Jul 20, 2017
Jul 20, 2017 at 7:08 PM UTC
Your voice always sounds
A little deeper across an hour and five minutes
Through wetmore and up hardscrabble
You say you've been trying a little less
That's okay, I think. I'm so different to you and
You're so different to me, you say maybe I've never loved and I recall how weightless Chaz felt on top of me on his sheet-less mattress and
wondering if love would always feel this way--quick and dry, as if i
were a speedtrack and him a flippant driver burning rubber
and spilling his load on the side of the road.
you can always say no to me
What I meant is if you kissed another girl and
Started that long descent, falling for some irresistible wile--
I would know that you were finally touching someone who might know what she wants
If it's meant to be, it'll happen.
You're explaining something about the plant in Salida, chocolate chip cookies, Bulls. Your voice is gravelly and tired and about us--you begin, with a pause.
About us, about us.
before you even hang up I'm considering
The dynamics of waiting and patience and changing,
have a good night, dakota. I say it twice, you've already
confronted my fear of losing you.
Apr 26, 2016
Apr 26, 2016 at 7:13 PM UTC
The landlord told us never to go on the roof.
We take to borrowing others, tiptoes clanging on steel and iron
My knees rubbing gravel and asphalt.
We finish the wine and **** three stories up.
Most days we sit curled on broken patio chairs
Cigarette to split
No, I want my own.
Unspoken fourth neighbor snoresputtercoughsnortsneezes from the corner.
**** you, Chaz.
We didn't come, by pick up truck and bicycle, to live above crackheads again.
I could smell it, those May mornings.
Misha, always sick, he said.
He was.
You were always the Junction.
Where
drunken promises
sober **** ups
idle hope
came and met ****** up ugly only to straighten out again.
Destined Final Resting Place of my last drops of liquor.
In a way it could never amount to more than that.
A wasteland we did nothing but lay waste to.
Avery taught me how to french inhale sitting on the hood of her 74' Ford something or other.
Fishnets Valu Village miniskirt, lakeside cold
Her zippo lighter roman candle flash bright.
Didn't I steal that?
Didn't I, one winter darkened morning, rifle through your jeans for TTC fare and a fiver for an Egg McMuffin?
Who can remember.
Oct 26, 2017
Oct 26, 2017 at 9:02 PM UTC