"hiccuped" poems
"Remember in summer when we used to listen to the smiths and make out in that little hidden park?" He said with a little smirk.
"Tragically, yes." She didn't even look at him. She didn't laugh with him. She didn't smirk back. She looked ahead, stared at the open road, like it was a possible escape plan.
"I miss you." He didn't think. Its funny, the things you regret immediately, the things you regret as they're happening.
"No, you don't." The same monotone voice.
"Why cant we get over this?" Hes not angry, or pleading, or sad. Hes just asking. He doesn't expect an answer.
"Because I hate you." She said. This time she looked away from the road, she looked at him, dead in the eye. Her eyes were welled with tears, they did not steam down her face or smear her make up, they were just there. Like they weren't for anyone but her. And he didn't want to take that away from her.
"You're my best friend."
"I don't care. I hate you, with every fiber of my being, I hate you. I hate you like the sun hates the moon, I hate you." She said it matter of factly, trying to be hurtful. She didn't want him to think she was weak. That she would just give up on this.
"I cant loose you." His voice broke half way though, snapped under the pressure, hiccuped like a prepubescent boy talking to his crush.
She turned to him, lent forward and whispered in his ear.
"Too late." She turned on the ***** of her feet and melted away into the cool winters day, like she used to on those summer ones, where they would listen to the smiths, in that little hidden field, and make out. When they were best friends. When they both knew they could never be just best friends. When they both tasted like the american dream and homemade cooking. When the sun loved the moon.
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 6:51 AM UTC
When I lived in the city, night, true night, never came.
The natural day gave way to the artificial day,
a day made possible by streetlight, by humming billboard.
With sick pinks and near-white greys, the early hours
hiccuped away. I slept or didn't. And this time in my life,
as any time in my life, is marked by a woman.
I won't say much about her. She was a performer,
and I've never been a steady fan of much of anything.
So when I kissed her the last time, I kissed her like it
was the last time, a kiss calibrated to say, "It's been."
When she kissed me the last time, she kissed me
like she didn't know it was the last time,
a kiss not so much a kiss as a mouth half-opened eternity,
where the sun didn't shine, nor was there night.
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 12:23 PM UTC
Courtney’s old subaru stuttered and stalled as she sat at the red light. The large blue duffle bag sat ominously on the leather seat beside her. She couldn’t look at it.
God, Luci. Why did you get yourself into trouble? Courtney’s mind was racing. Ridiculous. This is ridiculous. She ****** her head to look at the bag. It was bulging.
The bag was stained and dusty, ripped along the seams in some places. Courtney’s phone rang loudly. She jumped, and held onto the steering wheel with one hand and answered.
“Hello?”She was silent as the voice on the other end talked quickly. “No, I’m not there yet... yes, I’ve got it.. No, I haven’t touched it... Yes, sir. She’s very sorry... I know, sir. Yes I’’ll tell her.” She hung up. Her face was ghost white, her palms and forehead sweaty.
Many voices argued in her head. I shouldn’t be doing this for her. She broke the law. But Luci’s your sister! That doesn’t matter. She caused the whole family a lot of pain and money. And now I’M breaking the law. What the hell?!
She looked back over at the duffle bag. It sat staring at her accusingly. She turned away. Her car was getting awfully hot, so she rolled down the windows, letting air flow through. Checking her watch, she hiccuped with surprise. Her foot slammed down on the gas, her head pressed against her seat from the quick acceleration. Her car’s enging groaned with the speed, but she couldn’t slow down.
********* Luci. I really hate you right now.*
Suddenly, she saw flashing lights and heard a sharp wailing sound behind her. A police car pulled right up behind her, speeding along, signaling for her to pull over to the shoulder of the road. Courtney’s eyes were wide with fright, and her palms were sweating profusely, leaving stains on her steering wheel. Oh god oh god oh god oh god...Ohhhh my goddddd.
Courtney slammed on her breaks, pulling over. A man in uniform knocked on her window, and she rolled it down slowly. There was a loud noise from the passenger seat and Coutney’s world slowed as she saw the duffle bag fall to the floor of the car, the zipper breaking and the contents spilling onto the carpeted floor.
The policeman’s face was horrorstruck.
“Ma’am...” He stuttered. “I’m going to have to ask you to...step out of the car and put..put your hands on your head.”
Jun 25, 2012
Jun 25, 2012 at 12:49 AM UTC
If you can escape me in little thought bubbles
Like I am a bottle of carbonated soda
((And you are the hiss that escapes me when I'm too shaken up to remember
We should have digested our feelings by now))
Then perhaps I should shovel my fist deeper into my mouth
To keep all of these words from dribbling out
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 12:19 PM UTC
I stirred from a dream-dazed, I saw flashbacks of a knotted
silver gleam. From it a figure bent forward. Here, at last alone in the dark the knight
or stable boy
or creature
took his lover's hand and instead of pressing each fingerprint between his palms
and reciting how he couldn't breathe in her absence
he snatched a dictionary from the nearby shelf and began delivering
words beginning incidentally with the letter H. Over and over again
until he almost fled from the room in Hopelessness.
she was the Hazel in his brewing coffee; the Halo of his prayers
Hideous leaked from the page and he Hiccuped. Reminded suddenly of her behavior
silent, sleepless nights came forth and smothered his speech. Anger rose and each
private grief was spit into the crease of her hairline.
it oozed into the tears between her eyes, splashed onto her sweaty, reaching arms.
drenched, choking in fever, she waited until it settled between the ridge of both ears.
they said nothing
he couldn't look at her-
she couldn't stop staring
after a couple minutes he walked away and
she fell like raindrops into the pinched, center drain
Oct 29, 2012
Oct 29, 2012 at 5:14 PM UTC
the words fluttered,
swung, swept, swooshed,
bemoaned, bereaved, bedazzled,
leapt, lauded, littered,
hovered, heckled, hiccuped,
made U-turns, took deep dips,
underwent saucy somersaults,
played like notes,
acted like songs,
usurped as oaths,
humbled as prayers,
slaughtered as killers,
punctuated, presided, presumed,
abetted, adhered, attacked
while the paper endured all with love.
Sep 21, 2012
Sep 21, 2012 at 7:50 AM UTC
The shirtless poet,
he writes on the fourth floor.
Corner of Bedlam and Squalor.
He’s running two experiments:
Ingesting only whiskey and
texting only ex-girlfriends.
He keeps a journal.
The title is
The Dishonest and the Deceased.
He’s seven days and forty-one pages in.
He’s sent 63 images of both himself and
empty bottles.
Three different women have shared his bed,
and each subsequent morning departed
with a similar sentiment: this never happened.
He’s drank ten liters, placed the empty bottles
on top of the cabinets. Proof. Yeah, I’ve been drinking.
I guess you can tell, he said. I’ve got friends.
Just haven’t seen them in a while.
He said he’s getting closer to the center.
Of what? Woman No. 2 asked.
Of myself.
I wouldn’t do that. Whatever you do.
It’ll help my.
Don’t do that.
My art.
This isn’t art.
I am art.
You’re drunk.
I can remember the first time.
I’m starting to.
What does.
Nothing.
You’re leaving.
No. Well.
The first time. Your grandma’s shed. 2007, 2008.
I’ve got work in.
I remember the smells.
The morning, she said.
The dew, the grass, the sweet wind.
Please.
Your husband’s no ******* poet.
I.
Let me remind you how poets love.
The air conditioner hiccuped.
A taxi door slammed outside.
A helicopter dipped past Squalor.
Through the window a beam of light.
But this never happened.
This never happened, he said.
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 3:50 PM UTC
Secrets spill from your lips
In hiccuped slurry speech
That night you learned the most important lessons
Teachers never teach
You're on the fence
But you always tumble in an empty bottle
Trapped on all four sides
Looking up at the light, legs weak and wobbly
And those lines you stood by
Those boundaries began to blur
All that you believed in
Every bridge you charred and burned
Did you find the answers
Laced within those pills?
This self medication will make you numb
To what you must rebuild
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 9:22 PM UTC
Her cheeks, alive with red wine, will catch eyes.
Sized up/sighed off guys still spy from ringside.
Sideline surfers curse. Analyze their worth.
Turpentine and Turf giving birth to hurt.
Her body is the Earth. Insides, the sky.
Coincide: heaven. Mt. Olympus thighs.
Miles high, priests would die or--least of all--feast.
Bleating sheep cease to be. Lie still, deceased . . .
A little . . . lying still. Shy beast survived.
Rings: still-born. Pacts of love unpacked to die.
Distilled vice, hiked-up skirts and hiccuped "Hi"s.
Crying mind aside, high at hammered time.
Oct 24, 2015
Oct 24, 2015 at 10:45 PM UTC
"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned."
She whispered
What she meant though
Was 'curb the arrogance in me
So I may lay down my questions
And bury my assumptions'
"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned"
She murmured
Even though the storm in her
Screamed 'stab the place in my head
Where my doubt imerges
And the spark in my heart
That hates to love the world'
'Restrain my hands
And break my fingers
For they will never seize
From creating blasphemy'
"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned"
She thought it this time
While her lips said
'Forgive my mind
That lies to itself
And tricks its existance
With half truths
It won't believe
You'll see'
"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned"
She tapped the side of the wood
Mimicking the last song she drunk
Before hiding in the confessional
A last secret sin
She let herself indulge
"Bless me"
"Bless me"
She hiccuped
"Father"
Hiccups
"For"
Hiccups
"I have"
Hiccups
"Sinned"
She smiled
And walked out of the confessional
With her music filling her ears
Her lips singing away
To her hearts desires.
Dec 31, 2018
Dec 31, 2018 at 9:16 AM UTC
When I was little all I wanted to do was fly
Like angels in the bible
Or like Peter Pan
With a little bit of faith, trust
And lots of pixie dust
When I was a bit older
I dreamed of being like a bird
While looking out of the classroom window
Not wanting to return home
I could spread my wings and protect myself
And fly
Just fly
One day I tried to fly
When I launched myself off my balcony
But gravity pulled me down and red liquid blossomed from my knee
While tears stained my cheeks
"What were you doing?" My mom yelled
I hiccuped through my crying
"I just wanted to fly."
I am standing on the edge
150 feet up in the air
I try not to think of it as falling
I imagine myself finally flying
And feeling the wind rush across my face and leave me flushed
I spread my arms and imagine wings
And let go
All to fly
Feb 15, 2014
Feb 15, 2014 at 6:50 AM UTC
i clenched my fist and this goodbye for so long, i choked it down with my tears and held you to sleep while you hiccuped apologies that you’ll be better. but my darling evermore, i cannot be the person you hurt just because you’re hurting. i cannot be that person anymore.
Nov 24, 2023
Nov 24, 2023 at 9:47 PM UTC
isn't jealousy a captivating feeling?!!
oh the *** of it...
it's enticing and romantic and kisses you in overwhelming obsession and vulnerable passionate seduction everywhere! every crevice of your mind is infatuated with the perfumed desire of desire! Naked, stripped, raw, tempting want! That wicked taunting sensation at the edges of your secret never to be told
oh the (love) in it...
breaks your heart into a million little pieces shattered throughout your body as you feel the ticklish pinch of pain as your phantom heart won't forget how to beat. although, you wish it would becasue the silence in between each hiccuped spasm suggest an undying love. for everyone in jealousy is in love with it. forever pulsing through your veins how the
love for it stains...
oh the (hate) of it
to ****** destroy, and diminish the tormenting throbs of anger, frustration, and unsatisfied possession of your soul. Don't you feel the same corruption and
misery so so miserable misery that defines you? DESPISE! LOATHE! To banish, annihilate, obliterate, destroy it!
oh the (drug) of it...
the caressing addiction of such a powerful emotion. how much more could you feel? Pushing the limits of emotion you indulge in sweet agony.
oh the (death) of it
the last and first breath between love and hate paralyzed between inhale and exhale. oh the death of it is the death of myself for it's all i feel now
oh! the jealousy i'm in!?
oh (haha) how jealous you must be...
Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 11:50 PM UTC
I never thought to tell.
I swallowed each heavy feeling
Like a chore
With the hope of making the weight
More convenient
And each gobbet of memory sank and churned
In the pit of my stomach.
These pond stones
Which hiccuped in the gullet
Vanished from sight,
Yet they did not pass.
The weight did not pass.
Jan 14, 2018
Jan 14, 2018 at 3:00 PM UTC
No more glistening eyes
And hiccuped sighs
Hush now, baby girl
Close your eyes and listen
To sweet notes of a lullaby
Sung softly by your mother.
Keep your rib cage steady
To the rhythm of the melody
And slowly, peacefully
Begin your journey into dreamland.
Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 3:49 PM UTC
Hiccup
I just hiccup
it wasn’t fair
the fingers
i just hiccuped
and bang
and bang
and bang
yes
it wasn’t fair
no, please no
she didn’t mean
hiccup
it was just a hiccup
she loved him
she loved him
and bang
and bang
and bang
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 7:36 PM UTC
I remember how you hated buying period supplies with me and how you stayed one aisle away from me the entire time. I remember cuddling in the back of your car, which always led to us kissing, followed by long talks. I remember talking about nothing in particular, but always talking. I remember the early morning phone calls and how groggy you were. I remember late night phone conversations and how we’d almost be falling asleep when we hung up. I remember you calling me cute every day, even if I had just hiccuped. I remember me falling asleep next to you countless times. I remember how our hands were always touching. I remember almost everything you ever told me. I remember you. I remember you and I hate how much I remember because it just hurts. It hurts because all I have are these memories and I don’t have you. I don’t have you because I made a choice. I’ll stand by the choice I made, but. But when it’s close to 3am and I’m sobbing into my pillow, telling myself that I’ll be okay, that’s when I remember.
Nov 1, 2016
Nov 1, 2016 at 7:03 PM UTC
you knock on my door in a way a ghost haunts their crime scene. there’s nothing in your hands but sorrow, yet i race to you anyways. i take your cold trembling limbs and attempt to make them warmer (even when i know the ice is from within.)
you tell me you try to find me in every soul you meet, every daylight your shadow tries to drown in. but darling, i know this time will end up like the last.
you come, and then you go.
i give, and then you take.
i think you will change and you give me the false security that’s enough for me to fall back into the arms i desperately tried to rip off me. i run back to what i was running from.
but baby, please mark my words when i say you will never touch me again and you will continue to fill that void i left because thats only fair after what you gifted me.
i clenched my fist and this goodbye for so long, i choked it down with my tears and held you to sleep while you hiccuped apologies that you’ll be better. but my darling evermore, i cannot be the person you hurt just because you’re hurting. i cannot be that person anymore.
right now you are dissecting a love that may never pass your twisted version of an examination, and that’s okay.
because the next time you come back to my door, i will not be there to open it. next time you come back, i’ll be gone.
Nov 24, 2023
Nov 24, 2023 at 9:59 PM UTC
turn the page
turn the page and leave it be
let yourself let it go
I know
I keep telling myself and
I keep hearing from them
my mom and my dad
my therapist and my friends
turn the page
just one page
just one at a time
and soon enough the sheets will be clean again
I know
I know and I’m sorry
I’m trying, I am
and I know it doesn’t seem hard to turn one page
but my fingers are bitten, barren, and ******
and so dry you could use them to sand a bench
so dry that any time I try to turn a page
it’s difficult to grasp a sheet
my fingers slip off
and I never turn just one
I always skip a step and
go too far
I go too far and think I’m okay,
think I can forget
but the point of turning pages isn’t forgetting
and my journal wasn’t written neatly in pencil anyway
it wasn’t even stained permanently with sensible ink
there’s blood on my pages
mine and his and hers
and tears of course
mine running blue
his running purple
hers running black
all of them plucked from my shoulders and arms
combed from my hair where they fell
when I screamed my impermanence
retched my insufficiency
screeched and hiccuped and sobbed my uselessness,
when my cracked lips and raw hands and broken frame
begged to not be forgiven
and all they did was nod and hug me
and cry on my shoulders and arms and hair,
cry from beautiful eyes that told me I was loved
eyes that left when I told them to leave
and stayed when I told them to stay
eyes that saw me
that knew me
that told me I had worth
that told me they loved me
that gave me everything I didn’t deserve
that were hurt by me beyond repair
but forgave me anyway
I want to do it for them
those specific pairs of eyes
so I’m trying to turn the page
I’m trying
but there’s so much blood
and it’s not all mine
and I’m trying to remember what you told me
about licking my fingers to unstick the pages
but wouldn’t you know my mouth is drier even than my hands
either from the medication or from talking too much
or maybe from not talking nearly as much as I should
but whatever the reason at least I'm trying and
I know they’re glad I’m trying
because they know there was a time when I wouldn’t have
and I’m constantly unsure whether
I’m going back there or not
back to when it was like that
when I wouldn’t have tried
sometimes I think I am
sometimes I want to
sometimes I find myself missing the familiarity
so I stop brushing my teeth again
stop eating food again
stare at my ceiling and cry silently again
think about every awful thing that ever happened
and watch as my nightmares of pink bathtubs
turn into fantasies again
but their eyes
their eyes that spilled over and told me I was loved
that forgave me
that did everything they didn’t have to
they want me here
they want me to come back to them
and I think I want that too
I want that for them
maybe even for me
so I’ll just have to keep trying
to get that page flipped
one page at a time and maybe
maybe someday bathtubs will just be for baths
Apr 9, 2017
Apr 9, 2017 at 3:34 PM UTC
I thought you looked armadillo-adventurous
You smelled like you had waffle-ironed a dog **** on your walk
Across the park
I was sitting there pretending I didn't smell the stink
You asked me how I was
I hiccuped and said great
You pulled out 2 peanut butter eggs
I looked at you, forgetting to be distant and indifferent
Slack-jawed and wide eyed
I said you were beautiful
You said that serial killers were on the loose and that we should go
Eggs in hand
And lumps in throat
You let me walk you home
Nov 4, 2016
Nov 4, 2016 at 11:32 AM UTC
i want to collect all the loose pebbles kicked out from the cracked sidewalk corners of this reckless town and hold them in my silky nightgown,
dreaming of little moments forgotten and pushed aside by thematic fantasmacide.
i want to bathe them in the river and let them cleanse me,
soaking in hiccuped breaths and slow motion blinks,
just a second more of peace-ridden darkness before the clamoring jamboree - streets spilling over with hilarity, drunks dancing wild, children searching for love in tops of trees.
i want to caress every weary brick-face
with the souls of my feet,
conscious of all those to walk before and following - so many lives with unique spiraling fantasies
woven into birch leaves.
i want to press them all between ancient book pages as they fall,
let potion brew amongst severed pieces of processed bark and dying leaf,
rejoined and relearning each other's mutated intricacies.
i want to drink the honey dripping
from the eyes of roof-top lovelies, clasp their hands and spin in revelry.
i want to memorize the hue the moon casts over this town,
the way she lays me spell-bound into dewy grass,
the way the wind laughs,
the way your eyes split my heart in half - nostalgic for what has yet to leave me,
romantic sadness holds hands with mystery.
Jun 18, 2015
Jun 18, 2015 at 10:32 AM UTC
The wind shifted from cold to warm
The sun doesn’t hide behind her clouds anymore
The flowers, they’re blooming
baby, you would’ve loved the way springs forming.
I wish I still had you. I wish your love still filled my heart.
I know you don’t realize but that love we shared was enough to fix me or tear me apart.
I begged heaven to let you stay, crying and screaming, dry heaving, tears streaming, they still couldn’t find what made you stop breathing
You were gone and I couldn’t save you from leaving
I was your home
We never picked out a welcome mat, but that didn’t stop you from walking inside and kicking up your feet
You made sure I wasn’t alone
Always reminding me that for 9 months you weren’t going to deplete
They said “It’s not your fault”
“You didn’t do anything wrong”
“Don’t blame yourself”
“You did what you were supposed to”
But I was your home
You grew inside of me, nurtured and fed
Hiccuped and kicked for hours on end
I loved you and I failed you
Baby.. I didn’t get to say it, but I’m sorry too
You were supposed to be safe and I couldn’t protect you
Maybe I wasn’t aware enough
But the skies, baby, they still feel icy blue
And is the world going to keep moving on without us or what?
I’m forever and always yours
You molded your heart into mine
Winters daughter and springs girl
no matter what angel baby, until the end of time.
Aug 18, 2023
Aug 18, 2023 at 5:42 AM UTC