Apr 09

rift: The Mariana Trench

i feel as though
the two halves of my brain
are seperating.
creating a sort of rift in my being,
a mariana trench in my mind.

you are at the bottom of 
this sunken place.
suspended in time,
buried under years of brain matter.
no matter how hard i try

i just can't drown you.
 
Apr 03

Ode To Anxiety


I feel your warmth with me always.
Warm like hot sauce down my throat, anxiety.
Warm like 9pm heartburn, anxiety.
Warm like soap in my eye, anxiety.

I am never alone.
I always have the music of your voice in my head.
You are constant like rain drops falling
one after another
during a storm.
Loud like a dentist’s drill.
Loud like a fire alarm.
Loud like my heartbeat in my ears.

You give me an adrenaline rush, sweet like candy,
but leave me with a sugar crash.
Honey in my veins, sticky and slow.
You keep me grounded, unmoving
I am paralyzed with you.

Guide me and hold me by the wrists,
drag me to and from the things that I love.
You hang around my neck heavy like fine jewelry
or a boa constrictor
tightening.
Where would I be without you?
Without that high from your electricity?

Perhaps I would just die.
 
Feb 05

cliche

you make me cliche.
you make me one of those disgusting,
sloppy, lovesick idiots that i used to despise.
you make me want to watch rom-coms
and slow dance to no music.
you make me want to watch sunsets,
Twilight, and The Notebook.
when we say goodbye on the phone you make
me want to say "no, you hang up first".
you make me want to ride a ferris wheel
and kiss at the top, get couple tattoos,
and kiss in the rain.
the only thing you couldn't make me do was love you,
i did that all on my own.
 
Feb 05

phantom limb

it's like
phantom limb.
i know you aren't
here,
but it hurts to think that
you were.

once.

it's like you are reaching
across     the     void 
to drive your fingers 
through my ribs and
pry me open like  
the jaws of life
just to
steal beats
from my heart.

my skin has this habit
of remembering things it shouldn't,
and all too often it remembers
your five fingertips on my back.
it remembers your stubble, 
if we can even call it that,
on my upper lip.

the palm of my hand fits
puzzle-piece-perfect on the side of your neck
and when i am without you 
my hands know it.
my hands miss you as much as my heart does.

my hand felt
like it was a part of something
new,
yet something that it somehow, strangely
knew.

all i want is for you
to take my hands and
take my time,
Jan 24

cookies

my mother pulls the pan from the oven.
chocolate chip cookies from a bag
sit dormant with sweet sickness,
waiting to infect us with sugar
from molten mountains
beneath the crisp skin of their bodies. 

 
Nov 19

painting

i sit and wait for my mind to paint the words
like the sun paints the skies at night,
but i just cant come up with the right colors.

tonight, i want the sky to bleed lilac petals
but i keep mixing the wrong hues.
my blue is tainted yellow and now all i have is
green. 
my mind is painting oak leaves on a canvas
meant for purple petals. 
a mind stained with green.
a sky stained with green.
hands stained red from the
blood of my massacred thoughts.
it is hard to be happy with haphazard leaves
when you desired petals.

the sun does not paint a masterpiece every night.
the words will not fall to the canvas like paint. 
we stroke carefully, the sun and i.
sometimes creating lilac petals, sometimes settling for oak leaves. 


 
Oct 16

incarnation

the wind is the sound of the earth’s blood
running through its veins.
put your hands over your ears and 
you can hear it. 
it’s like putting your head underwater
and hearing your own heartbeat.

the earth is dying.
bleeding into the surface, bleeding
into trees and leaves
staining them crimson.
leaving a bloody crimescene across
mountains and valleys
and clotting in piles.
draining, draining, gone. 

now the earth is turning pale
and its skin is turning white.
rivers that once ran down his face
are tears that have turned to ice.
the earth’s muscles stiffen and its
creatures grow still.
once rigor mortis sets in
there is not much time until.

the ground is cold to the touch
and no matter how hard i try i cannot
feel the lifeblood of the earth coursing
beneath my feet. 
the world is void of color and thus
the world is void of sun.
Aug 20

i love you out of necessity, i couldnt choose to love you anymore than i could choose not to

your fingers are willow tree branches,
trace latitude and longitude lines
across my body.
map my scars as rivers, my curves as 
mountain ranges. 
kiss me with dandelion breath and
hold me like i’m your sweet september breeze. 
you got me in a honey bee haze, you are my 
cool purple nights and the fresh yellow days.
with your vanilla skin on mine, i want to meet your mind. 

can i turn our fingers into friendship bracelet string?
blue over green over blue over you over me
over
us

sleep isnt easy without you.



 
Jun 15

to myself; when i am not feeling like myself

remember
1. that even when you don't recognize the person in the mirror, they have
your mom's eyes and they look a little bit like your little brother. their heart beats
with yours. their fingernails are painted purple too. 

2. that although you don't feel like you belong to anything or anybody,
someone is thinking of you and someone is missing you. he loves you,
believe him when he tells you.

3. when you don't feel pretty or skinny
remember
that you bleed and that you are full of blood and plasma and smooth muscle, among
other things. you are alive and you are full inside. you know this for sure.

4. to breathe. you gotta do that sometimes. 

5. to always write.
somehow writing helps you to find yourself.
when you write you remember that you
have a purpose.
because you do.
there is a reason for you to be here. 

sincerely,
     yourself
 
Jun 04

a kind of love

our love is buried deep in things that
dont ever die.
a kind of forever without an
end in sight
(or in mind)

our love is cardiovascular.
between flesh and blood,
and beneath bone you dwell.
if i bleed enough, i can feel you,
i can see you in the crimson pool
at my feet.

i am stained with bloody fingerprints
smudged intimacy,
and god, i don't want to wash them off.
i don't think i can.

i am scoring your words into my
flesh, messy letters gouged into
superficial skin.
i am tearing muscle from bone trying
to seize the parts of you that
i hid within myself.

i am clawing caverns into my chest
and reaching my hands inside,
sometimes i scream your name just to
hear it echo inside of me.
i am searching for you between
the beats of my heart.
cracks in the cardiac foundation of my being.

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