If I Could Bottle the Stars
If I could bottle the stars and talk with them,
we would talk about how it feels to be forgotten
until bright skies darken,… Read More If I Could Bottle the Stars
If I could bottle the stars and talk with them,
we would talk about how it feels to be forgotten
until bright skies darken,… Read More If I Could Bottle the Stars
Her feelings were enveloped
Her thoughts were prisoned
Her mouth was knitted
But she managed…… Read More Finally Free
As night became day,
the dainty dew drops sparkle
with resplendent sunrays… Read More Morning Dew
There were roses that bloomed and faded away,
The fragrance was left lingering in the breeze,
The humans remembered its essence and touch,
The tenderness and the beauty just like cherishing the present moment,
And how it pricked them oh so stealthily,… Read More Ambivalent Desires
hands meander, invisible trails of
electric skin left in their wake,
flesh bending, compressing at touch,
till hands lift and the connection breaks.
imaginary hands, the grip of words… Read More Soft Exterior
Aperitif
u up? (7)
A classic opener, devoid of taste. Lasts a minute or so. Purple socks.
Taking it slow, just got out of a long-term (9)
He’ll call you Amy when he cums and you won’t hear from him again.
Plates
Glee (22)
How I love an adolescent romcom, my Justin Bieber haircut, drunk hikers catching us shirtless in the crusty backseat of your mom’s minivan. I, a manic dream. Sweet nineteen. You kiss me like old movies, you don’t ask permission, I am a cutout. Marilyn Monroe. Burritos over the years, how you slowly stop paying.
Maybe. Maybe (17.5)
Every fall, let’s go to our booth in the Chinese restaurant and pull our guts out through our mouths. I’ll trade you mine for yours and a bottle of Coke. I’ll trade you mine for nothing, actually, what am I saying. Take it, please. I have no use for this organ anymore, no use for soft tissue associated with courage and autonomy, Jesus- I look like the kinda kid who knows what autonomy is? I have my therapist look over my weekly grocery list. Am I eating enough protein, you think, or- yeah, I’ll scrap all the Ben and Jerry’s, good call. Getting a lil pudgy. You think I’ll be thin enough if I take all these innards out? I’ll trade you. Think I need more heart. Mine’s deficient. You got one you ain’t using?
First love (25)
No screaming allowed in this Footloose town. A ghost you are, a ghost in two small meals a day. We are not permitted more. Your parents, my parents- I’m sorry I never forgave you to your face. I’ve harbored all this hatred. It’s been four years. You were protecting me.… Read More Cafe Amore
As the world feels more empty,
Remember to step outside and breathe.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
Sometimes it is easier to think
The sun does not shine for you,
The grass is not green for you,
The cold does not thaw for you,… Read More Not Quite Post-Apocalypse
But next Sunday, I want to get up early. I want to scrub myself clean and light up some candles. I want to wear something that keeps me cool on the inside and warm and welcoming on the outside. I want to take a generous amount of time to water my plants and make myself a hot cup of tea – something that the morning hassle of weekdays doesn’t always allow. … Read More A Mindful Sunday
Bruises fade yet
the memory of the pain remains
Words wound yet
the sharp tongued cuts still bleed… Read More Bruised Memories
I opened my book to you
And with discerning eyes
You read between my lines –
Upward strokes and flourishes… Read More Ghost Writer