Yesterday’s Poem

Her eyes,
My hands like fire,
Her eyes.

 

Her empty bottles, empty
Cigarette packs, empty
Words.

 

My eagerness, my aching heart, my
Confusion. My desperate.
My loss. My bad. 

When I stay in on the weekend to do work

whatshouldwecallme:

I always just end up like: 

I love this man

lyshaeskro:

Have I ever mentioned how perfect he is? 

one of my favorites. this poem is so beautiful. 

NaPoWriMo day 3

Indelible 

You’ve got me
Hooked, and I’m
Not breathing.

Your hands
Around my throat. I am
Immobile. Escaping.

We lie in bed, silent,
Incapable, self-loathing.
We are lost, alone, together.

You’re drunk, you won’t
Leave it alone. Protest won’t
Move past my lips –

My hips give in,
But you’re the one who
Cries. 

She, Not You

(NaPoWriMo poem - day 2)

She was born out of failure,
with freckled breasts and six feet of
skinned knees.

She came from a glimmer of a thought,
like a smell that hits you with nostalgia,
dissipating before you can even think.

The idea of her follows me; skinny,
smart, resilient.

She stands alone in a
field of green on a sticky
summer evening.

She’s not crawling through a
swamp, 3am, drunk. Not breaking
into schools, throwing rocks, throwing fists.

She’s alone, in a field. Her
sunburnt skin doesn’t hurt enough; 
she remembers where she came from


still, she tries to run
from memory, to unknow.
Fails. She will be your shadow.

The field sways gently in the breeze,
she lays down with the
beetles and

she feels like feeling young;
she knows she shouldn’t feel this old.

On an Island Southwest of Samos

Don’t know how I feel posting my poetry so publicly, but here goes. (poem for day 1, day 2 to soon follow. naturally I’m already falling behind, that’s just how I operate.)

On an Island Southwest of Samos

Early June morning,
you knocked on my door,
your deep eyes defiant in
the sunlight spoke volumes.

I have to try you said.
I want you to, want to come, I know I can’t I whispered.

We walked to the cliffs,
hand in hand, together
we jumped. Gravity took me under
rigid waves. Above me, you flew.

Drunk with an insatiable desire,
you forgot fate, karma, natural order.
You forgot the sting on your face
was a warning; You’ve come too far.
Or maybe You were never meant to succeed.

I danced for rain, danced
naked for added measure.
Rocks digging into my soles,
blood painting sand,
(I’ve been here)
breasts gleaming pink in the high noon sun,
translucent drops polka dotting my skin,
as the sun burned.

I was staring at the sun, and
I had to close my eyes as feathers
snowed down. Hot. Everywhere.

I opened them
just in time to see you
fall. You stayed
suspended, first, for a moment
on a bed of white. As I watched transfixed, 
your arms cut through your cloud. As you
fell, fast,
I felt you hit
water.

I want to see the colors of another sky. 

Was lucky enough to see Ben Howard and the rest of the communion tour last night in Philly, by far the best night of my life. 

“Hello babies. Welcome to Earth. It’s hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It’s round and wet and crowded. On the outside, babies, you’ve got a hundred years here. There’s only one rule that I know of, babies-“God damn it, you’ve got to be kind.” 

- Kurt Vonnegut