Poems · writing

I’m Still Ugly, you’re still fat.

A painting of a woman,
Seen through the eyes of a girl.
Wide, wondering,
How she could have been so

Tired.

Stretched out skin,
A pallor unbecmoning;
An echo of teenage elasticity;^,,,
Losing the
 plasticity

                 of youth.

Do you know her?
A droll mask of age.
Predictable in her grooves,
The shadows haunting eyes,

        Heart,
   
                 Mind.



                        ...and do you mind?

If she sits awhile nearby.

Face reflecting on
   water;
where she would like to be.
Poems · writing

Rivulet Fever

Dig at the scab
Watch the blood
Readied in its chamber
Before
Spilling out
Red-hot bullets

Beauty soft and sharp
Needle-edged kiss
We show our fangs
Weak-kneed by blood lust
You tear into me

A hunger lost
In the dizzying pollen
The oils of your skin
A sweet honey
You cave to the taste

While I become alone again
Drowning in the effervescent musk
Twilight lost in the bleeding dusk
I've lost the metaphor,
The melody
Carries on.
Poems · writing

See You in Seattle

Opportunity is gentle in her lust.
Emptied,
Shattered,
These particles run amok and
I miss you so much.

How silly to think this was it.
A gentleman
A vagrant
A perfect fit.

Now sinking,
A vessel of anxiety,
A boat on the high sea,
A tidal wave forgotten in this misery.

Our flame it burns so brightly
A scream rendered silent ever nightly
I wander.
Wonder.
Running into ghosts of you
Forever stuck in September.
Poems · writing

Ars Poetica

Poetry should not be hindered by objectivity

The only thing it needs to be

Is a catalyst born from brevity.

/

Poetry is shaking hands and carpal tunnel

It is rhyming schemes and a tattered journal

It is now, tomorrow, yesterday, and maybe later.

/

It comes from the rain, bubbling out,

the laughter from a baby’s mouth.

It changes with the seasons

It grows in both directions

/

Every new passion,

pain,

forges a new page;

A style immortalizing moments in that way.

/

And there when you look is where you’ll always find me.

Compounded in the confines,

the freedom in my poetry.

Poems · writing

Morbidity of Love

Hot flashes colliding in a sun car

The intensity of a look

The baring of soul

Framed by the absurdity of my socked foot

We swallowed each other whole


Started back at school which always make me more productive lol. Will hopefully start posting more regularly again. Thank you everyone who’s continued to follow me it really means a lot❤️

Poems · writing

Diluted and Somber

I've tried to make families from dozens of friends
But they never seem to stick through the end
Destructive decisions, shorter conversations.
With all of these failures I shouldn't pretend
That I've got such a lot
Of time.

And if there is something missing from me
Getting by from the skin of my teeth
If you don't want me around here that's fine
It's starting to get easier
Most of the time.

My brain likes to lie to me
Saying they've all abandoned me
And every Nana Grizol song still makes me cry

I'm trying to heal
And I never had an adolescence
Worth talking
About.
And that makes me bitter
And that makes me scared
I'm worried that somehow it's made me impaired.

Turn me into a melody
Someone worth singing about
Pull me from this waking dream
Tell me how to symbolize, to categorize all of my thoughts into digestible chunks for everyone
to see,
to look at,
to measure.

My confidence was lost when I didn't have a tether.
Run-on sentences
Angry over grievances
Too tired to care.

I've run miles in words
But they're never good enough.
I can never get my point across and,
Simplification lacks luster.

Welcome to the end of my rope for the day.
Where body-heat has cooled to a contemplative dew.
I've never been the type to run quiet with rage
Though sometimes the silence speaks louder.
Poems · writing

I Only Walk in Your Shoes

Sometimes breathing is the only function I can manage.
An automatic process.
Meanwhile you're paralyzed by the mess
A cardiac arrest of the mind,
Nothing solid.
Out of reach, out of mind, didn't know we'd run out of time.

I dreamt of something I no longer need.
A memory of a time when you were still here to talk through it all with me.
And aren't you?
Are you?
I've been here before and I've never been born and I don't know how to think of the sea anymore.

If the skies could give you back to me,
If you could just lend me your shoes,
I promise I'd get them back to you
But only if you'll stay,
Only if you'll stay.
Poems · writing

I don’t know if I’m mean or petty but I’m definitely something and it’s all in here.

My aux cord is broken and every song on the radio reminds me of things I want to forget.


You stayed away when I asked you to,

Kept up with me to see how I’d bleed.

Fond memories curdle at the influx of regret.


Why do I bother wasting my thoughts on you?

It wasn’t enough to ruin the Fall for me,

You had to go and take December too.

I lie and say you stayed away because I told you not to come back.


What a lovely little game we played,

Moving chess pieces around in your reality,

It was always on the terms of another.

I gave up everything but I always lost you, didn’t I?


You don’t care.


And, after all, when you were gone, the earth still moved.

Somehow I’ve acquired peace,

Fallen safely in love again.

A gentle caring thing,

Sweeter than I ever dreamed.

Laying in your arms I lied about anything being fine.

But now when I say it,

I’m right.

Poems · writing

A Letter to Ma Mei

It doesn’t make sense that you’re gone.

Some days it feels like I could still reach you if I tried.

Your name is still in my phone

Did it used to be that easy?

You’ve always believed in me so completely.

I promised we’d watch Cinderella again;

Was I really so busy?

Was anything I had to do better than spending time with you?

You were the safest place I had.

I know you wouldn’t want me to cry but you’d still make it feel alright to do so.


This isn’t even a poem anymore I just miss you.

I don’t understand.

I would go to those fuckin creepy nursing homes that you loved so much just to sing with you again.

My thoughts keep colliding with the fact that you’re gone.

How is it possible?

No new memories to share.

No new stories to tell.

No phone calls to ask how I’m (and everyone else) is doing.

Your name is still in my phone.

How can you really be gone?

I don’t think I’ll ever be satisfied with the answer.