3:19 AMand at first i called you asthma,because you made it hardto breathe,but then i realizedyou're justnicotine.
long distance relationship.and do you thinkthe moonever gets sadwhen the sun leaves herto shine forus?
happily ever after? not really.cinderella is dead,prince charming,because you read other storiesand just couldn't keep your handsfrom tangling in rapunzel's golden hairor caressing aurora's sleeping face.
how to love a boy who is lost.falllike you're jumping from a cliffinto a thrashing sea whose waters you cannot tread,dive into their depths and fill your lungs with waves.just don't close your eyes,because you have to search for him.feel your weight drag you to the bottom,feel the ocean embrace youand don't be afraid of that pounding in your chest.each heartbeat is sonara signal calling him and his calling you.learn to swim nowif you drown you cannot save him.swim to the fallen cities,the submerged castlesand maritime gardens.there you'll find him,lost in thought and studying the fish.i hope you saved some oxygenso you can breathe during the kiss.
Fallen.I wonder how many tearsLucifer has shed,when he sees the scars on his backand remembers he once possessed wings.Probably still less than mewhen I look at your memoriesand see the hollow spacefrom where you cut me out.
Unspoken.My words wereknivesand I saw howdeep theycutinto your flawless, ivoryfleshand wrecked yourgentle heart.But this damagewas notwroughtby the words thatleft my lips,but by the wordsthat nevermade it past mythroat.
How Love Works.I neverfell in love withyou,you neverfell in love withme.Your demonsfell in love withmine,my demonsfell in love withyours.
Marigolds.I bought the flowersto put in your hair.Now people are telling methey'd look betteron your grave.
rain.i still have buckets in my roomfrom when you poured your heart out.plastic pails full of pain and loveand lust and tears and names and smiles.i don't know why i keep them...maybe i hope one day you'll come backto claim them.or when i'm being really dumbi let myself hope that you'll come back anywayfor me.
bon appetitshe extracts her heartfrom her cavernous centerlike a no-good tooth.coughing, she serves it upon fine painted ceramics.he lifts his fork,spears the meat.chewing, jaw swaying,he samples a bite.then he frownsand spits intohisnapkin.
hospital boy.my doctors took your name and bottled it upin a plastic orange cylinderand told me to swallow one utterance dailyas needed.the ignorant lot,they forget i'm prone tooverdosing.
epitaphs don't count as love letters.he said my eyesgasped like a dying breathand he wasn't going to wait aroundfor the funeral.
OsteophilicHe loved his bones.The way they never asked too much of himor protested his requests.There was nothing superfluous in their design;simple, sleek, and uncomplicated.They were spry, robustready to take on the world withsharp and fluid motions.His bones were not brittle like she was.Not so breakable or frail,not so expendable.They didn't bend under pressureor fracture under stress.He loved his bones -their ivory purity eased his soul -and he was proud of the waythey held everything togetherso effortlessly.She knew one day he'd stomp thisold flame out, long before 'death do us part.'Cremation had never been part of the plan.
i'm not going to lie and say she was perfect.her skin was spotted with what she passed off as freckles,but what were really scars from a thousand summer sunsas she ran about outside,climbing trees and treading rivers,pretending to be an american bomberin the midst of WWII.she kept crimson stains on pearl pink lips,which always had the habit of getting on her teethbecause she put on make-up after dressing in her carand ordering coffee in every way she hated itas she drove to the record store three times a day,ignoring her job downtown.she owned four and a half hairbrushes exactly,i took count on the first night i stepped into that whirl-wind room,though her lopsided up-dos of messy blonde hair revealed just how much her fingersnever broke the dust.she had these lovely fragile handsthat showed each and every vein and bone,the type of hands made for tearing boys like me apart.how could i have even expected to survive,a paper poetheld against a reckless flame?
midnights always last longer than they should.i spend sleepless nights in my roomstaring at your picture on my mirrorand wondering why on earth someone as beautiful as youwould ever love someone like me,but then i rememberyou don't.
i hope you remember to bring the flowers.the stars whispered lateone nightas we lay beneath theirgrandeur."what if i die today?" you asked.and i told you in that case,i'd see you by tomorrow.
Pinkthe boys gestured and jeered‘what happened?’‘what’d you do to your hair?’‘boys won’t like you now.’she turned away, smiling all the whilehead shaved and pink scarf in place‘because it’s too hot’‘I want a fresh start’‘I never liked my long hair anyways’but at home she criesthough the tears won’t fallbecause it was shaveor watch it fall outno one comments on the lost weightor the bags gathering under her eyesfor she hides it with pink clothes and makeupchemo starts she throws up in schoolthe teachers send her home, but her parents send her backnormal is a luxury they can’t afford to losepink ribbons on carsthe color a badge she earnsblinds her delicate eyespink roses on her gravefor when she lost the battlebut never gave up on the war
give me a reason to stayI need more from youthan two lips parted;hungry hands scrabblingat my sides.I need your limbstwined around myhopes and dreams -I need your fingersclutching for my soul.
SilkSilk ribbon, airborne,carries the calm morning scentthe velvet touch ofa summer's breeze dancing byour rose memories,clad in pure-white clouds singingof autumns well-spentand springtimes gone by too soon.I remember itvernal equinox and joyunhindered for wewrapped ourselves in each otherlike the physalishugs its sun-red fruit, sweet calmcoiled about our limbsand unbound our stiffened hearts.Warm reminiscence,cuddled 'round our sunset soulsand breathed delicatelife into our lonely lungs.Your lavender eyes,northern starlight bound to me,held the universeamidst their glittering depths.Silk cord, we fastenedgently 'round us; never todrift apart again.
and somewhere she will fade-and she refused to be photographed instead; retained her ability to slip, through this water - filtered - mind:(memories washed clean) and the spark of a shadow left on the edge of this photographic memory-
and every other week in between-there's nothing worse than being stuck between wanting to d r i f t and, to keep the soles of your shoes sewn tightly to the brittle ground, waiting for the day when the weeds will burst through and break your hold anyway (because at the end of today you'll find yourself sitting at the window staring at an eternity you're not sure you're a part of
2. YouI have fallen in love with a poemthe red roses blooming over yourknees, the blue violets threadingand coursing through your veinsI have fallen in love with the haikuof your fingertips tapping syllablesdown my vertebrae five, seven, fiveI have pressed my heart like a bookmarkbetween the curled pages of your body,free-verse freckles scattered across theline-break nestled in the gorge betweenyour clavicle protrusions, stanzas faintlywhistling in the gaps amidst your shapedivory teeth, two eyes rhyming with mine;I have memorised the stream of consciousnessmurmured into my mouth as we kiss, as youwhisper spoken word lullabies into the crookof my arms, hands bracketed around my hipsas if I am the metaphor crafted by your similesmiling lips; the image ghosting behind wordsI start to think we are the closing couplet of a sonnetbut darling if you were a word, god you’d be purple-love, you are a poem,etched in an alphabetthat I don’t understand,that I can
a difference in milestones-your steps are steady,thunderous, lightningcrackling in your hands,impossible to forgetand mineare quiet, far too gentleto ever leave behind a mark,as if questioning if I wasever there at all-
SilkSilk ribbon, airborne,carries the calm morning scentthe velvet touch ofa summer's breeze dancing byour rose memories,clad in pure-white clouds singingof autumns well-spentand springtimes gone by too soonI remember itvernal equinox and joyunhindered for wewrapped ourselves in each otherlike the physalishugs its sun-red fruit, sweet calmcoiled about our limbsand unbound our stiffened hearts.Warm reminiscence,cuddled 'round our sunset soulsand breathed delicatelife into our lonely lungs.Your lavender eyes,northern starlight bound to me,held the universeamidst their glittering depths.Silk cord, we fastenedgently 'round us; never todrift apart again.
Biscuit ElegyI stand here in my empty housestaring at a pack of biscuits I wantto hide away because I know Iam too depressed to goto the corner shop to fetch me more.I remember when you leftI used to find some foodstored in whimsical places underthe excuse of keeping things tidy.I always liked your sense of humour....When you are lonelyfor long enough you cometo understand the simple truthsof life.You want someoneto hide the biscuitstogether with your sadness.
Prompt Haiku - General - rhyming haiku coupletCold pavements; short days,Winter solstice – we hold hands,Longest night is warm.Warm asphalt; short nights,Summer solstice – we're still friends,Longest day is calm.
Suffering Taught Me CompassionI am thinking a lot lately. A bit too much. I have a condition that puts me through this deep depression every few years. Sitting here, alone at home, I really started to see the world differently. I think, for the first time in my life, I realised what compassion is. Just a few months ago, I would go out in the world and judge people for what they do and think. Now, when I am the same as them, I understand. So I thought I wanted to share my thoughts and experience with you, so you feel just a tiny bit not alone....When I was in eight grade, I was in this rather strange school. It supposedly educated kids using the “American” system, whatever that would mean. It was basically a brainwashing machine. On paper, the school is the best one in Bulgaria, mostly everyone who graduates it is able to go where she wants. But there was a darker side. If anyone didn't behave like the perfect student they started to resort to some serious psychological violence, which included locking
jigsaw puzzle.i found you as brokenpiecesscattered about the ground,all mixed upin the dirt.it took some time,but i did tryto reassemble your body and mindand to mend that velvetheart.i didn't have the boxto go bybut i think the outcomeis beautiful.