it's written all over your skin;
you have me
webs between your fingers
the echoes when you smile
mathematical calculations of
the density of your blood
enchanting
why can't i have this
but you have This
take it.
18 November, 2012
31 October, 2012
white waters
you are too many things;
you are stellar and then manic, necessary and then disposable, present and then wandering, and (now) so very clueless. you seemed to know what you were doing at first. you knew so much and i wanted to learn (and i wanted you) and things were easy and fluid and you were a river and i was a paper boat and you took me places and i rode you to banks and oceans and we got by. but now, oh how time has slowed us down, or sped me up, or pushed you away. and i am so very bored, and you don't have a clue. i wish you did, (how i wish you do).
i am a blackhole;
i always need more, and i've needed more for awhile now, but i'm trying not to kill everything i touch. i don't want to destroy or devour or damn. and you are a lot of things and i thought a lot of things, that would be enough. but i have ruined you, you've become lackluster and i've grown bored (so bored, so very bored). and you are not boring, but i've killed it. i'm sorry.
i wish you knew;
that i'm done, that things could be different, but they aren't and i'm done. and i'm sorry.
27 October, 2012
23 October, 2012
(still drafting)
He tucked
whatever was left in his left breast pocket, shook his umbrella, opened it, and
walked away.
It
felt like summer, except inside you, you know? It felt like galaxies that were
spinning forever suddenly stop, and then rushing through you. And then ravaging you, but in a good way, so then
when they’d resume spinning, you’d be left bare.
Then in your veins, where blood used to be, there would be memories and the
faint scent of happiness. That’s what
it felt like.
30 September, 2012
Specialties.
You need to stop giving your love away
in semi-sober strips of evening
you have no idea how much I ache
and I guess you are what you became
But I'm losing in every buttery slip
of your tongue in someone you don't know
and the poison slowly creeps
into those rigid roaring veins
There's a tremble in your name now
to match the reckless on your skin
and I don't know if you notice how
I miss you all the same.
in semi-sober strips of evening
you have no idea how much I ache
and I guess you are what you became
But I'm losing in every buttery slip
of your tongue in someone you don't know
and the poison slowly creeps
into those rigid roaring veins
There's a tremble in your name now
to match the reckless on your skin
and I don't know if you notice how
I miss you all the same.
16 September, 2012
idek
In the distance, off where the shallows met the breakwater, a figure stood, solitary and outlined. Its shape a shadow, the sun blazing bright in echoes of radiance behind it. Its face unidentifiable, just the way it was supposed to be. After all, it was much better if no one saw, no one heard, no one figured.
She squinted, trying to make out what it was, if it was who she thought it could be. It was a giant cheeseburger, lettuce and cheese spilling over the sides. It started running towards her and she just stood there, frozen where she was.
Then, it took her in its big fluffy buns, “I want to have your babies. Let’s run away together!” Unable to move, she let him take her away. It carried her into the ocean, and that was the end of that cheeseburger.
She squinted, trying to make out what it was, if it was who she thought it could be. It was a giant cheeseburger, lettuce and cheese spilling over the sides. It started running towards her and she just stood there, frozen where she was.
Then, it took her in its big fluffy buns, “I want to have your babies. Let’s run away together!” Unable to move, she let him take her away. It carried her into the ocean, and that was the end of that cheeseburger.
so i found this in my other blog and i really cannot even.
26 August, 2012
As he echoes.
Studying made enjoyable and the feeling that he could cover me if he wanted to.
Remember, I found you first.
I could disappear under his skin if he asked.
I’d build my self a little home beside his lungs and with every breath, I’d feel him.
Right under his
heart — that would be my
metronome.
His insides would
be my New York,
and his pulse
the passing train that shakes my crummy apartment.
the passing train that shakes my crummy apartment.
His brain, my Wall Street.
And every capillary and nerve
ending, each ligament and tendon,
from muscle to
from muscle to
muscle, an avenue to tiptoe across.
His eyelashes
my skyline, and his eyes
my Liberty.
Remember, I found you first.
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