I am not strong
I’m weak and I need constant attention
The new way to spell my name is H-Y-P-O-C-R-I-T-E
The boy who wiped away my tears
Is now leaking salt water
And he doesn’t know
But it’s all my fault
The man who took me out to dinner
And stayed up late to name the stars
Took my body as his own
And commanded it
And in my lonely late-night buzz,
Guilt breaks my bones
And my friend who I so lovingly call Ez
Is now a nostalgic picture gathering dust
I wish I didn’t have to lose you, too.
I am tired, but I am happy. My life is inconsistent, but it seems to always be in my favor. I am stressed, I am in love, I am exhausted. Got a poem for that?
THE ANSWER IS BLUEBERRIES AND ALL OF THE ABOVE Sometimes we try to pull our ears off and sometimes we pull off our clothes instead and I can’t say which I prefer though I have an idea you have an idea that we have the same idea and sometimes there is nothing better than knowing that what ends doesn’t really end if you remember hard enough and I remember everything so hard it hurts it hurts my head and it hurts my beating heart but I love how hurt feels because I can remember much more how good naked feels. I love this so much more than any of you can comprehend.
I’m so full; still curious.
If you were to ask me how I was doing, I would tell you that I am both happy and sad and I’m still trying to figure out how that could be.
He is my sunshine, and you are my moonlight.
Magic for an hour. Ecstasy for a moment. You are the ever-expanding blip on my radar and I didn’t expect you to become so engulfing. You have been thrown over the edge and now your maturity and selfishness are on overdrive as you try to claw your way out.
You know what you want. And you’re not going to stop until you get it.
Let’s push pause on the world and discover each other. Use our lips and our fingertips to roam every inch of flesh, every scar, every freckle, every bump. I’m ravenous and your lips taste like the sweetest dishonesty; and maybe I want to live a lie for a little bit; and maybe being around you in the middle of the night makes time stand still. When the world is asleep, our demons come out and I think they play real well with each other.
I’m goin in for the kill.
I have a sort of selcouth yugen written in my DNA.
I’m always wondering,
I can rarely sit still because I want more than anything
to just be a part of something.
A part of everything.
I want to stick my fingers in everyone’s pie
and know that I’ve been everywhere and back.
And when I sit outside and look at the stars,
the moon huge and luminous,
I am reminded of how small I am.
How insignificantly tiny my existence is.
I am aware of the fact that I am just a lot of nothing,
a little bit of everything.
It’s an unusual, bittersweet feeling.
Overwhelming, but humbling.
I am honored.
I know I could die any second.
But in a way, I am infinite.
We were flames
And you are smoke
Beautiful, but slipping through my fingertips.
And now we’re just ash
Remains of something contagious
Although it never got the momentum of a wildfire.
You never allowed it to.
We were the light in the darkness
Teasing the sunset
And tip-toeing on dangerous ground.
You engulfed me.
I allowed you to.
I tried to set everything of yours on fire
Dance around my personal act of arson,
But all I did was singe my fingertips.
Three quarters of a thumb print left,
And with soot covered eyes
And a half broken heart,
The only direction of choice is forward.
No more being the light.
I need to find the light.
You’ve allowed me to.
So this is my first attempt at spoken word… or maybe it’s just poetry. Idk.
Shadows fall on the floor
And my loneliness sets with the sun
I haven’t spent one night in my own bed
In a very long time
I can’t sleep isolated
The elixir of mixed flesh is my NyQuil
And it’s always delightful to role play love
Just call me an ingenue
Dawn is very becoming on you
With messy hair and sleepy eyes
I think of the way you would play with your child
And how I could get used to this
It’s not right quite yet
But I’m still figuring things out
And I guess this is all part of growing up
Am I an adult now?
You appear in my delusions, your words sweeter than sugar cane. Each utterance brimming with incentive. You lace around my wrists, choking them dark blue. You are the twinkle of my eyes and the dilation of my pupils. My heart starts beating again.
You emerge from the shadows and into my hallucinations, your confrontations dripping red sarcasm. My ribs fracture as your whispers mingle with my gasps. You are the broken bones in my skeleton. My heart is pounding.
You materialize in the middle of my fantasies. Your voice is a catalyst for false hope. Your silver tongue snakes across my teeth, etching promises into my gums. You are the facilitator of the pools in my tear ducts. My heart is throbbing.
You dance into my desires, your lyrics cutting into my veins. As your neon poetries entangle in my lungs, I can feel them start to collapse. You are the stimulus of my breakdowns. My heart is drumming.
You surface in my visions, silently weaving around my temples. The prose of your magenta indifference scars my flesh. You are my substance, my guilty addiction. My heart is palpitating.
You stumble into my marvels, your breath heavy with drunken nothingness. Your grey phrases are bitter as they perch on my collarbones, threatening to shatter them. You are the lock on my trust box. My heart is thumping.
You exist in my subconscious. Your verses intertwine and trip over each other. My hips bruise royal purple where your fingerprints used to be. You are the first domino of my nostalgia. My heart stops pulsing and starts to hum.