untitled
constant terror
i sit and i stew
about the ways
i’ve hated you
and you think
i speak
of peoples and places
it’s the reflection
in the wading pool
of poison and paces
my purple foot
stepped in
cautiously, cautiously
beatdown
my muse stepped over my halo
sprinkled some dust in my face
it was supposed to help me write
but it just took up the space
he or she, i’m not sure which,
maybe neither,
maybe a bitch,
came and left in an instant
laughed when i fell to the ground
departed when i was fed up
now i sit, unable to produce anything profound
seems like this path is a joke
angry ‘cos i don’t relate
to any of the womyn in the
industry. women i’ve looked up
to simply don’t like me, for what-
ever reason they choose.
from middle school english
teachers to peers to college
professors, men too. my toxicity
leaks from my pores
and i’m shoved off to
the margins. is it my plainness?
i hate my plain, my mundane.
i know i’m not worth a second
glance. my first
mistake was wanting
everyone’s approval. second
was taking your emotions onto
me, for i have been happy at
times though they are fleeting
and i’m not sure how to keep
it a permanent state. perhaps
if i never say
another word all of you
will like me perhaps if i
accept everything the way it is
perhaps if i end this life to
start a new oh if only that
were possible. i’d like to disown
this identity at times my self-
loathing is despicable my
dyslexia worse and my
rotting brain is at it’s peak
only so much longer until
i turn into a creep,
freak and run far away from
everyone and hope i never
see you again. i’ll continue to
run until you stop looking
i believe alone is the best way to
be and you probably think i mean
romantically but i mean in every way.
i cannot really express in words
the way i love you.
your big body taking up all the
bed, or the noises you make in your
sleep. i cannot sleep tonight. i wish
you were woke, but it’s already
late and i do not blame you. i feel
frightened and i want to hear your
voice; i would like you to comfort me. i
never realized until now what
a comfort you are, how much you mean
to me, and suddenly guilt overwhelms
me. for all the anger that has risen in
me is coated in shame, for your pure
heart exposed my poisonous blood. i ache
and feel for you. i feel i know you and
i love you so much more today. overwhelm-
ed in the presence of you. my heart pulls
your heart, they connect like magnets, and
the ache brims to the top of my throat. i
push the seeds of emotion down, back to the
flood in my gut. the love will bloom by
morning to greet you. i will be grateful
for another day spent with you.
evaporated
your heart
your emotions
are like a wall of ice
thick as molasses
my axe is plastic
and i cannot break through
the levels of our growth
skewed far
barely touch
and i stretch in this direction
far from you
it does not seem
to make a difference
how i rearrange my words
they are flexible
and i try to make them soft
like flowers
but you twist them
boil them into fire
you think i am a liar
and i cannot reach you
must i scream?
hoot like an owl
peering down in fear?
it feels hopeless and i am dwindling
to the bottom of this pot
evaporated
as i see our love
my heart feels like it is broken
it has been so long
aches and pains
of the ice block that carries you
efforts
morning love
coiled in each other’s sleep
you kiss my forehead
i kiss your forehead
your nose
your cheek
it’s dark
the sun creeps in
and we’re wrapped like presents for each other
in each other
arm, arm, leg, leg
tangled like satisfied shoelaces
knots of “i love you”s
in whispers and sighs
groans of delight
nuzzles and cuddles
you are my pleasure plight.
water
restless soul
he gets ready for work
in hurry, in stress
stomps through the murk
she sleeps
at her peak
herbs ingested
sleep is deep
he kisses her goodbye
images of their love boat
toss through the clouds
in which she floats
a precious song
buried in her heart,
bouncing like a buoy
along the fluids, not to part.
happy and unbound
i wrote about femininity
when it was all i could think about
what was expected of me
and from whom, what for
i slept with your beanie last night
i cried when i found it under the covers
we’d spent time looking for it
while it was buried under our love the entire time
what am i supposed to be?
a rebel, or forgiving honeybee?
i sting in my mind
but i
praise in life
and i
express myself
in extremities
and negativities
but i am pulling
like taffy
through whirlwinds
of emotions
who to be what to be
is it ever enough
to be content
without “success”
pressures piling up
when i think of love
i now think of you
i’m terrified, too,
and it hurts when you picture me like the monster
that crept to your dreams of me
because i just want to be the angel
that you need
i sit on your shoulder, whisper coos into your ear
sometimes you swat me away
i splat on the ground
and i decay
into the sound
push
i jolted awake
sat up straight
choked on the current events of my waking life—
amounting to nothing but an office job in hell.
even the best altruists, at peace humans,
maintain boring careers i want no part of.
thrills, freedom, a new beginning.
i want to live where excitement does,
to be buried in art and love,
to be immersed in the poetry of the earth
and amount to more.
the physical need to create
tears through my bones,
races nonstop and shreds them as it goes.
the yank up
sent my body into fits:
the seizure of a raspy throat
a hurt heart
no guidance, fear of no free will
& no ability of escape.
my body.
my poor, useless body.
it weakens and breaks
under the pressures.
sleepless nights loom
over me like a mushroom.
i, tiny like alice,
cower under worldly malice.
object
i just want to write i have no goddamn influence.
i want to create and i have no resources. no substance. no purpose.
that’s why, no purpose. what’s the purpose of this, even? mental
chaos cliché in a cliché misery where i want to be everyone but myself.
defined in physicality my body is
a spectacle for the revenue
of lack, and longing.
can i not believe
kind words or do i
choose not to be vulnerable
to you? fears are ghosts
and fear is
the only rational
existence to be afraid of. i don’t want to be afraid.
the ache inside, overused,
overfelt—abused and abject. there are lyrics in streams
and poetry in the green, but nothing so beautiful
lives inside of me.
