d e a t h,
p l e a s e
t u r n
t h e
= = =
l o c k
w h e n
y o u
I’m walking on scars . on your faded moonlights
it’s tugging, it’s pulling
yet, I don’t stop . just small curious steps
cautious, but moving forward
drawn to the things that color your atoms
I chose not what to look for
if I see dark matter
that once pulled you in ( deep shadows of pain and doubt lingered )
I don’t stop, my feet are not fractured by the glass on the cold ground
a sign of something
that was once so fragile and loved
that burned the suns in your eyes . that ripped your insides
when beating flesh turns into unanimated shards
( mirrored cracked just from one tap )
you were there
inhaling the dust
recklessly it might seem, I don’t stop
I rest under a tree in your lost woods
need time to recalculate my state
get up - spirit calls , venture through
so, I walk
and in the night I stumble until the light grabs me
grabs me whole
after faded moonlights . came a sun hidden within the universe
that universe was you
catching once again on fire of hope
reflecting in the comets
made of breath constructed from my lungs
last night I was caught into your gravity
falling into those skies
they pulled at me
I couldn’t stop
didn’t want to, if I can be so honest
my light ventured into the darkness before me
that I would stop the night
remembering sun rays that were once lost
had the earth shifted , so much that I stumbled into this path?
not a lot, love, just an inch, that’s enough
last night I was caught into your gravity
falling into your skies
and now I stay
walking on scars . on your faded moonlights
both feeling your pain . and melting within your joy
( that simple )
I wrote this for you
I often feel like a wild beast, fleeing at the smallest movement.
I fled when I realized that we weren’t in love.
We weren’t in love,
but fuck it if I wasn’t.
It dawned upon me too late that you were a wild beast too,
gnawing on your own leg to get out of the trap
that I apparently was.
You left me to pick your hair out of the drain
and the pictures down from the walls,
like picking scabs off too soon.
I don’t know how to translate that into poetry.
And know I’m here, smoking your cigarettes just for the scent.
When the sleep won’t come,
don’t open the vodka.
When the words won’t come,
don’t pick up the phone.
I don’t know if you touched me just to break me like a promise.
I don’t know if you touched me, because I was the first thing
in a long time that felt good,
but it’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair,
I never got to yell,
I got to sit in silent tears with hangovers
you could name battleships after.
The first time you touched me, I didn’t know what to do with my hands,
like they were alien things, like I’d never had hands before
and this was the first time, and maybe they belonged in my pockets, and maybe they didn’t.
The first time, we were in the same bed I tried so hard to stay still.
It was the first time, our bodies were that close, the electricity could light whole cities.
I felt like screaming, or think of Charlie,
‘I got a Golden Ticket, I GOT A GOLDEN TICKET’,
breathing was hard like algebra, or why we do the things we do,
only thirty seconds had passed, this was worse than breathing under water,
I wanted to say so many things and nothing,
I felt everything.
I know I leaned into the insecurity too fast.
I’m either slow and shuffling or colliding at maximum speed.
I don’t know gray, never have.
And now I’m sitting here, five beers in,
with charred lungs from the cigarettes I devoured
in the attempt to smoke you out of my head.
I am still surprised I’m alive.
I tried to forget you, you know,
but you grew roots around my ribcage
and sprouted sunflowers below my cheekbones.
I wish my mother had told me
that you can’t water flowers with vodka.
And now I can’t think about anything else other than the hickey on your neck.
And you’re out fucking some blonde girl who gets high all the time,
and I’m a fucking mess.
You’re up in the mountains, and I’m drowning in lakes while you’re describing the water.
I’m scared of the nights.
I’m scared I’m losing my mind.
I’m scared you’re going to stay in me forever.
The day you left, I realized why hurricanes are named after people.
Show her the moisture behind your foundation
___don’t hide the cracks for they are beautiful roads that lead to your heart.
Leave the stains of salted tears upon your cheeks
___those stains are your organic tattoo that tells your story
Let her breathe life into your veins
___no matter how exposed you are
Show her how broken you really are
___even broken stars still glisten in the night
Allow your darkness to drip from your lips
___into the kiss that will resuscitate your heart
While I attempt to fall a s l e e p
And I’m d
With exhaustion and cynic thoughts,
Please hold me tight.
Do not let g
Until it’s morning,
The sunshine emitting into the bedroom,
*My eyes fluttering O N meeting
An Experiment With Structure
startling to glean
starting to screen
staring too mean
string two gene
sting to wean
sing to scene
sin two teen
in to clean
i too queen
the path i walk
forgotten and I
wish I could
r em e m be r
the rhythm. D
The trees sag
branches and crackling bones
and loose clothes.
much longer I can
it is me
again. Calling to ask
you if the tree
still sings on that
And Even More
I saw my hands getting lost: (1)
Their size never amazed me
too big for my body.
I dipped them into a new task:
in winter. (2)
I imagined the unimaginable.
My hands are still too big.
My eyes even bigger.
Yet I learned to love the grit
under my fingernails. (3)
I cannot explain
In plain meaning
corrupt the truth of
1. I sometimes am a bit too giving I feel like I have nothing left over for myself.
2. I have always had a strong imagination and get lost in my thoughts so I remember the stories my father would tell me growing up and how I wanted to make stories of my own.
3. I wanted to show that there are imperfections in myself as well as a determination that I am learning to love as I grow up.
4. I sometimes think that there is more truth in metaphors than in plain sentences because life is full of metaphors, staring us right in the face that we just do not see.
north of the world
i dream in
of a lost child,
grown up to be queen.
of cities upside down,
swarmed by machines.
the skies are burning,
the fire is green.
and then i wake up,
no more to be seen.