shatteredi watched youlay the darkest partsof yourself along my bed,kept you safe as theygrew violent.they may stillbite like razors,but your armorhas grown thicker.
surgeryi promised not to scarmy skin. so i cut out mybrain and hurled it intothe river.just like cancer, the worst of me is dead.
twentythe river flarestinged with champagne from the hue of the sky,broken tortoise shell abovebut the glow is farfrom warm.raw teeth have startedgrowing in the windand everything around meis dying.
a note on poetsi believe it improperto think we're a breedexempt from normal humanity.maybe we can make detailstaste better than others, butwe're still human.
Defeating a Mental Disorderthe sludge in my frontal lobes isbleaching white; a clear photonicpuzzle of what my thoughts usedto be. my mind feels about fivepounds lighter without the constantbombardment of negative chemicalsrushing through mushy grey matter.if summer were a medicinei'd take three doses everyday,injecting raw sunlight into myveins and swallowing your smilewith a heavy glass of water.my demons won't freeze, perhaps they'll burn
radiomy heart's a radiostuck on one uncertainwave of static since it broke.don't blame meif the love isn't pureI'm still tuning.but you say it's fine,that my voice is yourfavourite song.
nineit's funny how carefulwe are aboutdamaging ourselvesproperly
innocencelast night, i dreamt the deviltried to slaughter me with atrain. the tracks began at theback hall and ended at the frontdoor, pouring outside. how thesethings appeared in my home, i cannotrecall.he was not the caricature you may beimagining; oh, no. he was perhapsas old as the boy who died this winter,roughly twenty five summers. ebonycurls sat wickedly on his ears, and hiseyes were two lumps of coal and fire,sharp enough to paralyze.i locked him in the garden, eventually.he found a way back in, of course(being the devil must have perks).i retrieved the pocket knife the colourof motor oil from my nightstandand stabbed him three times, in the belly.he bled out all over, staining the pictureframe, the carpet, the wallpaper. i imaginedit was sin, not blood; that i was healing, notkilling.but it was blood; he was human, after all.as they took him away to the hospital, i watchedhim grimace in pain. guilt seeped through myskin like coffee th
Winterwinter waswolves with glass teethand frozen wordsso frail they shattered beforei heard themit wassolitude wrapped aroundpastel grimaces, anddeadpan love pinnedto my coatit wasdistant memoriesgrowing lukewarm.i left them out ofsummer too longand now they've spoiled
TreatyThe long warBetween the heart and brainHas ended.A treaty has been signed.Finally,Bringing harmony between selfAnd community.We call it poetry.
nostalgia is poisoncall me a hoarder if youwant.i steal memories fromnettle-strewn alleywaysand crystallized diningrooms,collect them inkisses and nasty littlescars.i can't seem to partwith them, no matter howseverely they threaten myhealth
seastormI,a wreck-age wearingat the sea(m)sof tidal vacancy;I am the ocean, andthe moon hasforsaken me.tocling to reason,I stumbled onabsence stagnant,abrupt. bedridden yetever chas(m)ing, I fell to salt-soakedground from adon’t-leaveprecipice.threewords were all it tookbut all you do is take.I am wakingand I am shakentsunami waves that breakin empty frantic fury;you aregoneforthe briefest reposeor instant of stillness,I yearn; insteadI am abandoned by language,I am bound to languish beneathmountainous (n)ever-resttempests that swell,that quelleven the most desperate of breaksfor the shore.
the scientistsso i guess the sicknesscame back. my cells are charred;so manipulated byfailed doctors and theirfaulty operations, you can't evendiscern the real me. oh well,aesthetics are trivial.days are ruled by Nirvana;the sweetest doses ofCobain and Grohl and Novovselic.nights turn into Sinatra, coolsheets and dizzy air. the calendaris swollen, about to perish. youtell me you'll do whateveryou can to reach the remedy.our beings' areacidic and basic.neutralizing antibodiessurge around our lips, healingevery unspoken nevermind.
a note on ex-loversdo not make the personyou deemed unlovableinto solid granite;for they, too, are human.and they may not deserveyour softness anymore,but if you treat themlike a monster, you'reno better than them
5:20i went to the forestto purify my lungsthen i saw the thickand uglythree letter scari left in a slenderbirch, and wondered howi could let you poisonanother living thing.moths aren't afraid of pinstill they're stuck to a piece of styrofoam.
For Some ReasonFor some reasonMy hands shakeWhen I see you.For some reasonMy voice is goneWhen I'm with you.For some reasonMy hearts beatsEven faster by you.For some reasonI've fallen in loveWith someone like you.
fivemaybe if i tear out myveins, replace them withflowers, stitch myself up withlace and ribbons, i'll be pretty
UnspokenFor the loveI never shared.For the thingsI'll never tell.For all the secretsBig and small.For the timesI ignored the calls.For all the wordsI left unspoken.I'm now drowningIn my emotions.
sugarclawyou sang, watermysticrosehips swaying two heartsto a shelland i, niagarafell beneath, earth tesselateseeping in infinite squaresbut this is no desert lovestory you are telling, liesstretched over acreso' your sweetscented mouth
Sunseti saw Darkness chasing Light hoping to devour her To dye her sun-tipped feathersinto the dark abyss that was his ownLight was not to go down not without a fight Unleashing fire into the sky painting it orange, red, and pink But Darkness jumpedAnd swallowed her whole then he spat out her glittering bonesthat got caught inside his throat
Apologies to a friendYou pour your heart out to me,and are willingto submerge mein an oceanof loveyet when I see the waterrushing towards me,I convince myselfI don't liketo swim
Parentheses(I wonder if parenthesesever see all the letterscaught in between themand feel that distanceas though it is tangible;if they ever craveto be close enough togetherso they could intertwineuntil their inkscratchescollide to incoherence;if you’ve ever noticedhow your right hand ellipsesand curves just like a parenthesis,and how my left hand is its opposite.)
celeste's notion She likes to ravage poetry; destroy it as it falls off the tip of her tongue, along with the poison in her veins. She likes to devour words like death, consuming life; like a kiss that claims the soul. She likes to funnel frustration into a lullaby, into a stanza; she likes to coalesce contradictions – "hurt" with "harmony" "scream" with "sigh" "insult" with "inspire" because it's all the same to her; She likes to caress literature with her lips, with the slight whorls and spirals in her fingers; intoxicating and intimate and the slightest bit innocent. She likes to feel seraphic; feel powerful and godly in a world
.and they knew,they knew i'd gone -when they found me outside crouchedwith a string box and stick, singingi'm going to catch me my death,make him sick -now i sit in a gown that is whiterthan white, doesn't suit me,this ghost to myself -on the corridor bench with my kneestucked in under my chin, rattlingwith green yellow blue(i've told you, i know where i'm going)
Hope is a beaconHer lighthouse eyesguide him home.
Gravity Up in the air Back downI throw my dreams But they never come
Lost and FoundHe has prayed as muchas he said "I love you" in both casesthey were inaudibleOccasionally you can hear himwhen he traces the outline of yousimilar to the waya stroke induced Decemberremembers to speak springlike he's seen you before in his dreamsYou can hear himwhen his eyes linger at your smileas if he could find faithfrom your lighttrapped, imbedded in insecurityhis way is a broken record even the deaf could listen toHe will not say I love younot because he doesn'tbut because you can not hear a manyou have yet to meetbut when you do, oh god, you will be brutally awareBecause with love like hisyou could drown twiceand not want to come up for air
sailyou were the boat that deliveredme happiness, crates filledwith flowers and honey.but anchors rust,ropes fray,and all boatssail away.