A Man Named Will
I am in love with a man named Will.
He’s funny, smart, and kind.
His favorite holiday is Halloween, like mine.
He has rich, dark, curly brown hair,
And beautiful big brown eyes the bark on the trees behind our house.
He’s perfect to me.
It’s been too long since I’ve seen him, but I don’t mind.
I don’t know where he’s been these years, but I have his heart and he has mine.
I don’t worry, I know when he’s done with his work in the world, he’ll come back home to me and we’ll start our family.
He loves me with all his heart, and I love him back equally.
Well today I saw Will for the first time in too long.
We met outside of a local coffee shop he’d n...
They felt like strangers’ sheets, unfamiliar and unaccustomed to myself and my habits.
They were not worn in the middle from the pressure of my usual position.
The top sheet was not abandoned somewhere in the corner of a closet due to my hatred of untangling it from the duvet.
They were clean and fresh, but not in a homey sort of way.
They were not soft and used despite the faded pillowcases, which suggested otherwise.
They were stiff as if someone had ironed them before they were stretched across the bed, but in the process had used too much starch.
They did not smell of sunshine as if they had been hanging on the line all morning.
They did not smell of anything really but fabric.
I want to kiss every scar on your skin
I want to trace their lines with the tips of my fingers
Everything you deem an imperfection
I cannot erase
(Even if I wished I might)
Make you forget them.
Focus on my lips crawling up your thigh
Not the marks that brandish it.
If alcohol is liquid courage,
then coffee must be liquid luck-
tall and skinny, bottled up.
Drawing energy from what seems to be nonexistent,
-but we all know according to
the law of conservation of energy (humanity) that that can’t be true-
giving and giving until the container is empty,
and all that is left are the stray drops on the inside that no one bothers
Does coffee hold its own symptoms?
It must, mustn’t it?
For how can something give away that which it did not in the first place posses?
*A huge thank you to Max Wilson for lending me his photo for my background. His Instagram is @boy_plus_camera.*
His power was loquacious Mercury,
Spilling from his lips freely and unendingly so,
Tantalizingly close yet torturous.
It ran from your fingertips,
Always allowing you to see it
But never to posses it.
He was the same.
But always fleeing something.
And unwilling to be hurt again,
He always fought,
Scrambling away from his own shadow,
Which to him stood twice as tall as he.
Standing right in front of you one moment,
But at the first sign of danger,
By the next moment,
He was on a plane to somewhere new,
I feel like tomorrow
You’re probably cutting this off
You’ll pull me by my locker
And say something’s not enough
Something’s just a little off
“I think we’re better off as friends”
And every kind of reason you might make
Is running through my head
Don’t apologize in advance
Don’t ask me why I think it
Just something about you tells me
It’s something deep instinctive
Your body language
Of drifting away and
I’m not upset with
You. You’re tired
I get it
Please don’t think I’m angry
Please don’t think I’m hurt
Everything’ll be fine with me
As long as we end on good terms
I promise I won’t make it awkward
I swear I won’t talk bad
“The beast of Autumn”
Leaves are falling
Owls are crying
Skies are darkening
We’re upon the season of dying
Make no mistake
I mean not to offend
Taken all in beauty
We’re upon the season of ends
And the season of beginnings
And beauty and grace
And something dark and haunting
Waits in the Shadows to take summer’s place
So astounding and wonderful
And somewhat seemingly a wreck
Ever falsely fragile
With a tight grip on your neck
It’s dark passion and plot
And love tender and kind
It’s got beauty on its surface
And killing on its mind
“Fables of a Certain Sort”
When cunning Fox in forest turns to lowly snake in grass
And sure and clever weasel has taken the wrong path
When pure untainted dove turns to the black sin of crow
And wise owl’s posed a question to which the answer he doesn’t know
When the roar of mighty lion doth no longer shake the trees
And stinging does no damage yet kills the queen of bees
When lamb is lain for slaughter and has not time to flee
And bejeweled fish from vast oceans is torn away by net from sea
When brave mongoose puffs his chest and yet alas has no more pride
And king cobra goes to strike his kill yet finds no venom doth abide
When silver-backed gorilla no longer rises pounding on his ...
you think i like this side of me?
you think I want to be like this?
it ties me in knots.
i’d rather erase my name from earth
like i’d planned to do all those years ago
before i chickened out
but now it doesn’t seem like such a
so excuse me,
now you know why i’ll be fighting like hell.
you think I want to hate you?
you think I want to put myself through this?
i’d rather not.
i’d rather hate myself
like i used to all the time
before i chickened out
but now it doesn’t seem like such a
so excuse me,
now you know why i’ll be trying to pull away.
you think i want to care about you?
you think i want t...
Reasons for the Bags Under My Eyes:
Of being stressed and rundown all the time
Of feeling empty and hollow inside
It got smudged while I cried all last night
-I got hit-
So maybe I got in a fight
“Thoughts” I guess
You don’t even care about me
I was just one more passing through
I know I was
Even though your mom adored me
You didn’t really want me there
Just one more
Just one more
No big deal
You’ve had them all before
But as much as I hate to admit it
You’re the name I check for in my story views
Every time I check my watch I check your time zone too
I still search for you sign when I read my horoscopes
And you don’t even think about me anymore
So why can’t I get you out of my head
You’ve moved on
And you’re still preoccupied
So why can’t I understand
You don’t mind where I’m going
Or what I’m doing
Or who I’m with
Because there’ll be more just like me
But better in ever...
Some people are clouds
So beautiful and pristine from a distance
Innocently pure and happy
But up close
They’re empty inside
Once you get inside one
They’re horribly foggy and not quite as pretty.
Some people are moons
Mysterious and dark from a distance
Alluringly pulling people to them
And always with a dark side
So sure of themselves
But up close
They’re full of craters and cracks
Blemished and imperfect like everyone else.
Some people are stars
Glittering and shiny
Beautiful in all they do
For a while
But they burn out
Long before anyone notices
Destroying themselves from the inside out.
Some people are water
Calm and serene from a distance
Gentle and beautiful as th...
A Hollow Break in the Darkness
I wake up unhappy.
Tilly is still beside me,
But when I roll onto my back,
My right side is exposed.
I lie still for a moment,
Thinking about the dream,
Not so scary perhaps,
My stomach churns,
And after another moment I relent,
And roll over to my phone.
I start to scroll through various feeds,
But nothing catches my eye.
I swap between apps,
Hoping something can gather my attention enough to relax me.
I debate getting out of bed,
But that will wake Daisy,
And I’ll never get back to sleep.
My stomach is hollow,
Like it is when I’ve been crying,
But I don’t know why.
I haven’t been crying.
The moonlight is bright enough to shine th...
Love love love
Is that all we can talk about?
Lord knows the world could use some more of it,
And it is truly an amazing thing,
Oh the wonders it works.
Can we as people,
Not step back for a moment,
And stop thinking about every sideways glance on the subway,
Every touch of a strangers hand with a dropped paper,
Every smiling barista,
Every new neighbor,
Every smiling clerk,
Every accidental bump on the sidewalk,
And just live our lives?
We have been so pumped full of Hallmark movies,
And Nicholas Sparks books,
And country songs about strangers and marriage,
That we have come to expect what is the exception,
Not the rule.
Now don’t get me wrong,
I love a good cry,
Last night I began asking God
How am I supposed to keep up with you?
How am I supposed to compete with them?
How am I supposed to worry?
How am I supposed to sway you?
How am I supposed to watch over you?
How am I supposed to keep you safe?
How am I supposed to warn you?
and guide you?
and keep you on the straight and narrow,
and handle my life at the same time,
when you won't even open up to me,
or listen to me,
or take advice from anyone that doesn't have a record and a blunt in their hands?
and I thought
and I thought
and I thought a little longer.
For three years I turned the question over and over in my mind.
Did I need to be skinnier?
Did I ...
Last Night the Waves Came Back
I’m not sure when it really started
And it hasn’t stopped
So I guess all this really was for nothing
And I could have told you that it wouldn’t work
That all I’d do would amount to nothing
Normal me could have seen that
The me that was but is now here
And that me
That me was wrong.
Like I said
Me could have told you that
But I haven’t been quite myself lately.
You always here about emotions coming in waves
In and out
In and out
Sometimes with the seasons
Sometimes with the weather
Sometimes for no reason at all
Other than that’s what they do.
Your emotions have been coming in waves to me for years ...
Open Thoughts #2:
Here I am yet again
Trying to figure out oh so many things
Like why the dream I had last night involved you
And you were the bad man
And what that meant
Considering we haven’t talked in quite some time
And why God felt it necessary to throw that warning towards me.
Now there’s a deep bubble in my consciousness telling me to stay away
And I’m going to listen.
My phone is making me sad
And I know why
And I just want to sleep
Because I feel really empty
Like I was a piece of clay
Too thick to be throw in the kiln
So someone took a small spoon
Or one of those pumpkin carving tools
And scooped out the mush that was on the inside
Until I’m just a shell ...
Open Thoughts #1
Well I thought I had a chance
I thought maybe THIS Valentines Day would be different
God is apparently not a fan of mine
Since last Friday I have been sick
Thankfully not the flu
Or the stomach virus
But some weird mutation of a cold and a sinus infection
That had drunken sex one night in a broom closet
And made whatever has been living in my head.
While pumped full of DayQuil
I do feel better and can finally stomach (most of) a full meal again
In the past few days I have not been able to:
Laughs without coughing
Brush my teeth
Wear my retainers
Or do pretty much anythin...
Oh Dear God
How do I even explain my love,
For it really is your love after all
Your love is so deep.
Something like an ocean’s abyss that doesn’t end,
But keeps whispering out
“Swim deeper, a little deeper. My end is right here.”
Yet the end is nowhere in sight.
Every person I’ve yearned for has been carnal,
A way to fill one of many voids,
You intrigue me,
Because your love is different.
I want you.
Not just parts of you,
All of you.
Your love is,
In a way,
Because I know without a shadow of a doubt,
If you asked me to move a mountain
I’d do it.
The way you could manipulate me scares me.
You have so much power...
Remember who and what you’re fighting for
If you care so much, then prove it
When the world says no, you say
You are not too tired
You are not too hurt
You are not too broken
To get up and finish what you started.
You are not built to break
You are not fragile
You do not need some sticker that says
“This side up”.
Roll with the punches
Bite the bullet.
Every ounce of pain is worth it
If you really mean what you say.
Every drop of sweat is worth it
If you really want to succeed.
Every early night and early morning
Every short and jagged breath
Every bruised knuckle and twisted ankle
All worth it.
Take care of yourself
But don’t let that stop you from realizing
And sick to my stomach
We’re too far
Apart to make it
If I were in your driveway
Standing face to face with you
I’d spill all of this out
Where you could hear it too
So these pleading words
Wouldn’t fall loud and clear
I want to tell you I’m in love with you
I want to feel your arms around me
But I’m so scared to tell the truth
Scared that you won’t touch me
Scared that you’ll push me away
Scared it won’t get better
Scared you’ll never hear what I have to say
Because I won’t let you
If we were in the cold right now
Standing just outside your door
Able to see our breath move in the air
Just talking nothing more
You’d give that easy ...
A million other people
Could find the way to my heart
That plainly lies in
And hundreds of other things
Made by other people
That I put out for the world to see,
Out in the open,
If those million would simply listen.
A million different people could come to me,
Having everything I ever wanted
In a partner.
Appreciative of the classic things
A little dark
But it wouldn’t matter.
A million different people could walk right up to my door,
Sweep me off of my feet,
And say they adored me.
Tell me they’d die for me
Tell me that anything I want in the world
Lemon scented soap
I wanna change the world
Can’t be just another person just another girl
I wanna make a difference wanna get past all this
Wanna do better but I’m so scared
Words I never wanted to say again in my life
But hiding from the truth doesn’t make it go away
and it seems to me I don’t really have a choice in
what I get to say
when it comes to these two words
that I hoped wouldn’t see the light of day again coming from my lips
And I tug on my shirt at my hips
And ball the edges into pieces as I stand here writing this
I can’t be just another face in a crowd
Another card in the deck
I can’t be just ordinary
I have to make a difference
Wanna do something for t...
Under a Minute
I looked in my mirror tonight to brush my teeth,
And happened to glance up and down at myself.
And for a good forty-five seconds,
I loved my body.
And I consider myself lucky to have had those forty-five seconds.
Because that’s more than a lot of people get in their life time.
And even though tomorrow I’ll wake up,
And decide I need to eat less,
Or that I absolutely must wear makeup,
I’m thankful for those forty-five seconds,
Because tonight they have made all the difference to me.
God when will you learn?
It’s the little things.
It’s not bouquets of roses
Or extravagant dates
Or constant flattery.
It’s how my eyes get huge when I’m tired,
And how I play with my fingers when I’m nervous,
And how I reference small, unusual books and movies that half the planet doesn’t know exist.
You said you loved me,
So why do we suddenly feel like there’s a bridge between us,
Covered in spikes and stones?
It’s a dangerous path to tread my friend,
Throwing caution to the wind when you’re holding a kite.
Every single time
I get anywhere near normal
Someone throws a knot in my stomach
And takes a piece from my brain
And adds a chamber to my heart
And a trigger to my temple.
How can I possibly try to function?
I wish I could sleep as easily as you do
Without waking up,
Having tossed and turned,
Cocooned in sheets and sweat,
Breathless and frantic,
Clawing confusedly at the pillows,
Before regaining momentary sanity.
And that's if I sleep at all.
And some nights, a few nights,
The dreams are good.
But most nights, many nights,
They are bad.
I want to sleep curled against you,
My back against your chest, your arm slung over me,
Your mouth on the back of my neck.
I wasn't to feel safe and warm for one night.
Just one night,
That's all I ask.
I want to wake up and know you're still there,
Right behind me,
Holding me like no time has ever passed since we touched.
"Who would suppose"
No one would guess that she had barely a hundred calories for breakfast.
Or that her lunch was a single serving of pineapple.
Or that her dinner was exactly twenty three cashews.
No one would guess that she runs and benches and pushes and leaves her all on the gym floor, to the point of injury after injury.
No one would guess that she doesn't sleep anywhere near the vicinity of close to how much she says she does.
No one would guess that sometimes she nicks herself while shaving on purpose, just to see.
No one would guess that she goes home and bites her nails and picks at her skin until there's little left to pull.
No one would guess that she has to be skinn...
What good are walls,
Be they knocked down?
Lest they stand sturdy forever,
are they not wastes of materials,
which only offer surfaces to lean against in defeat,
or planes to sob beside in sorrow,
that offer no comfort,
but instead cold,
hard solidarity in the place where love and warm arms should instead reside?
What good is a fortress,
Be it disease-filled in a week's time?
Lest it remain pure for time's endurance,
is it not a waste of room,
which only create obstacles for future plans,
or obstructions for light,
which already struggles to weave itself in
among the throngs and hoards of people,
to attempt to find a path around?
What good are roses,