All ready to
But you can never reach the
Your soul is
You are an
Chained to the
archival.i was reading an old weather book today,
and did you know in 1976 they named a hurricane after you?
that's funny, because i never imagined you had the experience.
you're so hesitant;
i thought destruction was new to you.
i'm cold, could you pass me a blanket?my kindergarten teacher
told me there were flowers in my soul.
too bad it's always autumn;
dead inside of me.
the garden is a crumbled heap,
and my heart suffocates
beneath the leaves.
there's no salvation for moths in your world.when i was in middle school
my art teacher told me that in abstract paintings
warm colors are laid over cool, and especially neutral, colors.
so when i sat atop the back table
and splattered my dusk blue tears of flimsy watercolor paints
atop the sickening yellow i despised so much,
she scolded me and put me out of her class
when i told her i didn't want to be kandinsky
and that she didn't know shit about art.
but i couldn't help but think about her
on my way to the hospital.
so tell me, ms. bame, am i killing myself right,
smothering ivory wrists with crimson stains?
would you let me stay in your class now,
hang me up in the art case?
is this what nostalgia taste like?i'm reminded of things i'd rather forget,
i have memories of words that were never said.
each time i look in a mirror
i see you over my shoulder, studying the lines forming on my face.
i'm growing old, older than i should be;
middle-aged, but drowning in high school.
i think i used to know where i'm going,
but now my best guess is the grave;
i think i died when i met you,
but that's okay with me, i was dying anyway.
i'd haunt you if you'd like.my hands are paralyzed and you're waiting for me to touch your face,
but that doesn't really matter because i'd rather touch your soul
and if you close your eyes long enough i'll read you poetry as we lay atop the monkeybars
in this old and rusted park
you can pretend to know the constellations and point them out to me and i'll tell you they're all beautiful, but nothing compared to you
if i'm lucky you'll blush and laugh at me,
tell me i say the dumbest things but deep down it'll register in your soul just how much i love you
and i know they say you can only save yourself, but darling i swear if you'll just have the slightest bit of faith i'll save the fuck out of you or i'll destroy myself trying,
because i honestly can't think of any other purpose for my life
or what smidge of it i've been able to hold on to.
there's something fatal about coughing up verse.i got written up for writing poetry on the desks
i don't think they liked the language i used
when i wrote how my heart was beating
like headboards against the walls of people fucking
at 3 am to the sounds of joy division
whenever you read me paintings at dawn.
they were going to send me to the counselor,
but i said my therapist probably wouldn't like that,
so they just let me go.
but this saturday, when i'm cleaning lives off of every desk in school,
i'll just be thinking how much i'd rather be sitting on your roof
and laughing when we argue about rimbaud
and sighing as we start to die.
let's lay down and watch the sky fall.i've taken on the habit of latching my watch
on the sixth-to-last notch so that it's too loose for my wrist
and every time i reach up to tame your mound of auburn hair behind your ear
time slips away from me
and we can entangle ourselves in the possibility of forever in it's absence.
lush.you're all the "him, he, his"
in every poem i write.
every star i watch,
especially the ones i wish upon as they fall,
holds your somber reflection.
you're every cube of ice wrapped up in a mint green cloth
you held against my shoulder
on the spot where some random face pushed me against the lockers.
every time it rains
i swear a smidge of your soul is falling from the sky,
maybe that's why i love to run outside with wheelbarrows of buckets
to catch and hold each drop.
sometimes it snows in this dreadful southern wasteland.
the earth is covered in specks of your grated skin;
ivory crystal so cold my hand goes numb,
so i can't feel the electric shocks from a handful of embracing midnight movie marathons
of low-budget dramas that we always just ended up acting out ourselves;
we never had any money to spend on tickets to the real movies,
we poured all our cash and coins into the old register at that used bookshop.
need i say that you were every line i read,
every syllable stained onto tho
moths swarmed into our throats.we danced in that pumpkin patch just off of highway 9
at 2 a.m.
he howled up at the distant moon,
who stared down at us in that dumbfounded gaze
as it rested lorn-fully against the sky.
somewhere in town kids were getting ready to go to the houses of strangers
their parents have known for years
and ask for candy and make-uped smiles.
no one cared about the two dead boys wading through a knee-high sea of bright orange pumpkins;
no one gives a damn what ghosts do in october,
as long as they're not haunting them.
-In the endless tranquil forest,
Hidden by the shadows beneath the leaves,
I smile; at peace with the world,
As your corpse smiles back at me...
A Chance?A Chance?
If noone gives you a chance for a long time,
then when you are finally given one,
most of the times, you gonna fail.
And you'll ask for a second one,
but you don't deserve it,
because out there there are many like you
still awaiting the first one.
Don't Ask For A Chance, Demand What You Need.
The End of the WorldI didn't prepare for the end of the world.
I somehow thought that we, reclusive in a hardened bubble-shell, would survive it.
I didn't brace for impact, I didn't even consider it happening to us. Why would I?
I didn't prepare rations, bedding or bunkers.
It didn't occur to me to imagine a post-apocalyptic world in which our love wasn't enough.
I didn't see it coming. It destroyed me nonetheless.
The end of the world doesn't care for your readiness.
AnimusIf I could
I would vomit my soul
And let it chain itself
To my speech
Like a parasite.
I would let it
Become my puppet master,
And let it sway my arms
I never thought
Instead, I've kept my soul
Trapped in a cage
And watched it
Try to bite
It's way to freedom.
Mia Efkeria?Μια Ευκαιρία;
Αν κανείς δε σου δίνει μια ευκαιρία για πολύ καιρό,
τότε όταν τελικά κάποιος σου δώσει μία,
το πιο πιθανό είναι να αποτύχεις.
Και θα ζητήσεις μια δεύτερη ευκαιρία,
αλλά δεν την αξίζεις,
ForeverYou asked me
how far I would go
for you but you never took
that the earth is round so
I’ll end up
-the stars shine
in those brown eyes
(they're terribly empty, aren't they?)
and i know
that every day
is a struggle
(i'm sorry i can't help you)
have been so
b r o k e n
(and no matter what i do, nothing can fix you)
but the emptiness
in those eyes
seems to fade
(and life flickers in those brown hues)
so i'll climb
every mountain top
(just so you can see all the stars in the universe)
UnitedSo far away
But so close anyway
Going separate ways
But connected, always
United our hearts are
Is our treasure
Even when afar
Our bonds are unbreakable
Our secrets we share
For each other we stand
Everytime and everywhere
a full moon will not bring me backI have learned that there
is a sudden peace
when one has tired of running
all their life.
I have learned that you
should have let me go,
far sooner than you did
because wolves need
to be free. They
need to ravage the dead;
they spear-head the desire
Remember, darling, when
I told you:
"Do not let me touch you,
for I will break you"?
Oh how I throttled your
cawing with pearl-plated paws
and parted apologies.
You swooned over my love,
while I howled for the night.