"heartrate" poems
The day the angels came for you,
I was wearing a lipstick that stained my mouth
the color of raspberries.
When I came into the room,
we both ignored the fact that the monitor showed
that your heartrate jumped when you saw me,
and that my body instantly began to tingle.
I brought yellow roses
because I thought red would have been inappropriate,
and you giggled and made them into a flower-crown for me.
You remembered that yellow stood for friendship and admiration,
and I only nodded in response.
The get well soon cards were stapled to the walls of your room,
but only the outside of them showed,
and we were surrounded by teddy bears and balloons that
did not show the tastes of a twenty year old boy.
The nurse came in and when she saw the holes in the walls,
you shrugged and said that we ran out of tape.
She left in a hurry.
You said that you were excited to leave your body and go to heaven,
because you wondered if the "land of milk and honey"
was really all it is cracked up to be.
I sighed, and slowly asked the clouds
to keep you with me for another day.
You told me you were tired,
but you asked me if I would stay while you took a quick "siesta",
I said I would and when you drifted off,
I fought off my better judgment
and left a mark of raspberries on your forehead,
so when I sneaked out you would wake up
and look in the mirror and see that I told you goodbye.
My lips were still stained the color of berries
when I left red roses on your gravestone two weeks later,
and I wondered if you knew that all this time
I thought you would outlive me.
Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 11:16 PM UTC
I want to be alone,
to sit between the
concave hollows of my bones,
nestle beneath folds of skin,
shut my eyes and
make the world go dim,
just me and a pulse,
a heartrate pumping blood
and when I open them
it's not the floodlit streets,
wars, fires or anger I see
but the trees and fields;
the peace i wear like a glove,
vowing not to take it off the
minute things get tough.
Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 12:13 PM UTC
i told her that her jokes were
always funny. that they always brightened up
my day, that she was the one who brings a
smile across my face without even
trying.
but, then i told her that the one joke
that i couldn't tolerate was the one
about self-harm. she looked up at me,
and i swear her heartrate soared,
and then said,
"i understand, it won't happen again."
i looked at her, confused.
why was that so easy to say?
i then looked down at my wrist and
gulped a bit louder than i should,
and she got out from behind her desk
and then proceeded to say,
"I did it as well, i cut in highschool."
i stared blankly at her,
not expecting to hear that
she knows the fears i have.
she knows of what its like to
have a blade go across your skin,
she knows.
i hate that she knows.
i hate that she went through that,
that she knows that feeling.
i hate it.
but, at the same time, im glad
she knows, because maybe she can
be the one who helps me from
going on some relapse
frenzy.
i just hope that
maybe she wants to
be the one who
helps me.
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 9:32 AM UTC
Within white stagnant walls kinship reeps phyletics
Lavished in immoral conducts; distributing demon fits.
I envisioned hell before me when sick pricked.
My shrills were short lived; as my ambuscade died down.
Escapading not, I did muster inducement.
Decoy to fail, could I never entice this asylum town.
Decifer the mutters I did; creating chaos while dim.
Told in realm; increased heartrate overwhelms;
*"You're a sick little ***** with the dunce smoothered cap oversized."
"Have you ov procelitized, I would be seven lighted voices and notith six dark cackles"
"I spit on you in shackles, spy the roaches and the grime"
"Crawl for Roman Nero, he wanes"
"Guttering your vessels into wine, you are now his drooping mane"*
I saw the heads of six, as roaches looked upon me taking turns to spit.
My time here arose as a feeding black hole.
I crawled for Nero and six more; I stuttered trying treason.
Here I lie pathetic; with rays of decoy,
Dreaming the nightmare most feared; most do not believe in.
Hallucinating alone within the stale walls; I felt prone to end all.
Once gathered what had struck; I knew perspectives aren't always as they seem.
Merely and only; one severe demented dream.
Shall I not turn the tables on authority once more.
To ambuscade the power; leaves needle incisions sore
Not only pain by fluid; both realities changed illucid.
I did what I must've to be discharged;
I did what I must've in best regards.
Oct 30, 2010
Oct 30, 2010 at 2:17 PM UTC
i never really understood what
"it comes and goes in waves" meant
but now i can see
no matter how stationed i am to the floor
imagining my feet are tree roots extending into the earth
i have always felt myself
falter with the tides heavy motions
stumbling along in a dance i dont know the steps to
falling face first behind the crowd of people who have got it figured out
jealousy hitting the palms of my hands before the asphalt
missing you is a constant heartrate
but these memories, feeling you so vividly it shakes me down
it comes and goes in waves
i never understood what
"time heals all wounds" meant
because my skin is painted with bruises that share no connotation with love
even when they fade i can recount the ache theyve left
like a worn out map
of every time i have pretended not to hear the exhaustion drip from your words
i used to hear your voice in my favorite melodies
and share my songs with you like lullabies
but now music is just noise to erase your voice
i dont think that time will ever take you away from me
i dont think i'd want it to
i wish on every flash of light and every makeshift airplane shooting star that i could leave the piece of me that can't stop thinking of you on one of these one-time roadtrips with no destination
no cliche seems to cover how quickly the word love disintegrates or how mixing up being happy with being scared is coincidentally more common than anyone would have expected.
i will forget this trainwreck you put me in
this half angry poetry you made me write
because even if it holds no meaning,
time heals all wounds, it comes in goes in waves
Jul 25, 2016
Jul 25, 2016 at 11:52 PM UTC
I was going to compose a parallel poem
mirroring the ways you show you care
but you have made it evident
that I will never be your home.
You would
thoughtfully answer my never-ending stream of questions
carry me to bed with a blissful blanket of sleep and softness
grant me the honor of wearing anything you owned, and smile at my choices
actively correspond with me, more in the span of a few weeks than your standard for a lifetime
trust me to take care of your bright-green banana-of-a-boy
assist and twist and crack my spine further
track and plot my heartrate to find a trend in tempo and tone
and always provide the nearness I need to breathe
and feel
and be
myself.
I did not need to pen a poem
to know that you care, albeit reticent
but you have made it evident
that I will never be your home.
Jun 15, 2020
Jun 15, 2020 at 10:59 PM UTC
When I just can't sleep at night
You are the one on my mind
As I toss and I turn, turning on the light
Can't leave these mem'ries behind.
*Day in, day out
I think about
What has come,
What is done
What you said
How you won.
The less it hurts
The more it burns
The more I think
The less I've learned.*
In the morning, blinds are closed
Lights just hurt my eyes today
My tested heart never knows
How my emotions are gonna play.
*Day in, day out
I think about
What has come,
What is done
What you said
How you won.
The less it hurts
The more it burns
The more I think
The less I've learned.*
And when I look for answers
The questions have already gone
And as my heartrate dances
I find I'm searching for the dawn.
I know I'll learn.
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 1:19 AM UTC
Why do we fall so fast
What makes the heart turn from friends to wanting more
Nothing changes on the outside, yet everything changes on the inside
The heart is just a physical part
It’s all in the mind they say
But why does it strike so deep in the chest
Breathing deepens
Heartrate quickens
and the body flushes with a heat seen nowhere else
Why do things change so rapidly
What makes the heart grow fonder when there is nothing more to love
Every time
Every new person
It’s the same thing
The same feeling, the same painful, endless cycle
What can make it stop? What will cease the useless void of longing and hope for something that could never and will never exist? Is there such a thing? Is there such a thing that exists that is no more destructive than the very thing we are trying to mask?
The human mind is so beyond complex, but to choose just one single thing to understand wholly about the human brain and its thoughts, reasoning, and comprehension, the form of falling in love would be the one.
Oct 21, 2015
Oct 21, 2015 at 7:45 AM UTC
A man walks these solemn streets,
tapping and rapping his cane,
and with him, the stench of death follows
on these dreary, weary streets.
His eyes shine against the dark
on these lonely, stony streets.
His smile sends shivers down your spine,
as your heartrate begins to climb
on these unholy, lowly streets.
Pulled from his overcoat, a blade shines
against the lights of these ugly, shady streets.
A sight that's gone as the streetlights flicker,
but not for long: He's walking quicker
on these now dangerous, deadly streets.
Out go the lights on these dark, desolate streets.
He hears you running; he'll always be coming
on these dreadful, hellful streets.
Aug 1, 2018
Aug 1, 2018 at 2:27 AM UTC
I'm here for you
I'm gay for you
if you want it to stop
well baby it's too late
you had a chance to tell me I'd never be a top
but instead you accelerated my heartrate
Mar 21, 2021
Mar 21, 2021 at 12:13 AM UTC
Seated at the candle-lit dinner table my
aural senses distracted by musicians neglect
the biographic monologue of the diner before me.
Feet impulsively impose their rhythmic behaviour
timidly beating the floor, improvised drums
silenced whilst nonchalantly looking elsewhere,
artless reaction to captivating tunes, pretending
self-possession as vibrations slowly softly gently creep
along my spine, flowing through veins and nerves
altering heartrate unable to make believe interest
in words unheard any longer, finely tuning to meld
when my head ineluctably yields to sway inviting,
the rest of my body and him to follow. ‘Stand up!’
I interrupt rolling shoulders beamingly gazing
into his eyes, eager to be swung, swirling hips
outpouring sensuality, his and mine getting closer
until hands meet each other’s skin enticing and
though everything is warmer shivers swiftly cloud
my shutting eyes, dizziness inebriating movement
entranced, pleasantly losing consciousness
into his arms with a final Do.
Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 5:36 AM UTC
Today, I learned that when you touched me
My brain was still developing
In its ability to think long-term.
Today, I learned that I have persistent post-traumatic stress,
And that I cannot ever freely speak of what occurred
Without blue and red lights flashing
And slashing
Through your life
And mine.
So today, I felt your fingers again
I heard your breath replace my own
My body is, at most,
an autonomy forgotten
In the violent aftermath of your love.
Today, I hurt a perfect lover,
Who cannot taste the blood you made
Still wasting away, wrought between my hips
I was a young girl but, for you, I cursed the world
Cast myself into exile from those you said
Didn’t love me
Like you did
On that day
On that day
The sun blushed itself away into dusk
And I watched as I washed away
down the drain
The dripping dregs
Of what you’d craved, captured
And completely consumed
From me
Today, I know you willed my worship unto you
Because secrets from God
are worth dying for
when the suffering feels religious
and the pains feel like prayers
and the truth hurts so bad that I can’t
even think about it
alone
at home
with my eyes closed.
When 90 pounds wasn’t enough
And 90 days went by in a blur
And 90% out of the time
My heartrate was 190 beats per minute
What there may be left to say
Is lost to my ebbing hedon’s memory
I let all the shades of you crash away
Evaporate the ocean of
a badly bruised mind
now left with little more
than terrified questions
When my back was pressed against
The paneling,
My soma was reified into
woman
And I threw my arms around your neck
and lost my sobbing to the friction
it burned so hot and sharp
and it smelled like bleach
as you ****** me
as we dangled
in that ****** metal box
You licked away my tears then
When you consumated this pain
for your **********
and I only wanted your embrace when
You licked my tears away
But its
Cold water on an old burn now
Your fingers, drenched in me then
Pried into my porcelain
Your love tasted like pennies and
It’s never left my tongue
Maybe it was your
Reddened thoughts that made you
Beat the color into me
Beat this sadness into me
But that was a long time ago.
Apr 11, 2021
Apr 11, 2021 at 6:56 PM UTC