Poem: Haunted

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Poem: Haunted

I step outside
Of the curtain lining
To tell you the truth
But you’ve already gone to work

I step outside
To my midsummer garden
Cos it’s all about myself
In my own little world

And in my opinion, it wasn’t meant to be
I see it in the palms of my hands
See it in the trees
But looking at past daydreams
I so wanted it to be
A universe where things could work out for me (playing the victim?)

Poem: Haunted (continued)

In the grand scheme of things
They’re always listening
Don’t pay much attention to it cos I spend my days dreaming
Future apartments with bay windows
New acrylic nail salons
Runs with my dog on Lake Shore Drive

You could have just told me
Though you did in your own way
I made sure to
Curl up in a blanket
I didn’t cry at first
But then the weekend came
I was tangled and interwoven into you and me again

You should have just
Taken it out on me
You should’ve just –
You should’ve just –
But you stopped yourself.
I don’t get how
You didn’t take it out on me
You should’ve –
You should’ve –
But you stopped yourself.

Poem: Haunted (continued)

In an arboretum I found truly my favourite flowers
Next few hours, you grew so bored, I thought you would fall straight into your hands
The thorns from the castle drains would
Stop to tell you that
This wasn’t exactly
Part of her plan.
I grew quite timid
Wasn’t born to be an alarm clock
So I let you sleep the next day while I did my own thing
The thing was, it was my birthday
And anyone knows that can have meaning
So it isn’t worth the frame-worked lawsuit
The heavy weight in my mind

You shouldn’t have
Taken it out on me
I thought we were different people
Living new lives, so it seemed.
You shouldn’t have chosen
To take it out on me
I thought we had become new
In the grand scheme of things.

Poem: Haunted (continued)

Fortune surrounds you
So I’m in a blanket
Wishing you well in skyscraper heaven.
If you turned around,
To retrieve your belongings –

My apartment would be empty,
But it would still be haunted.

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Love poem: Skin to teeth, nineteen times

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Love poem: Skin to teeth, nineteen times

Like picked out of a hornet’s nest,
I painted the walls an ivory-white mixed with peach-pink.
You don’t even drive a truck, so why am I so in love
With you
It must be your character
Your calm personality, too
I can’t do my own laundry without thinking of how you told me,
You would move to Chicago if that was where I was meant to be
We planned our future alongside each other
With short attention span like honeybees.

Like picked straight out of a hornet’s nest
You melted and hardened me like the sap on Sycamore trees.
You kept your cards so close
Like a wild Siamese
A cat scratch disease

Love poem: Skin to teeth, nineteen times (continued)

You’re the kind of guy that –
If you hit someone with your car
They’ll say it really wasn’t your fault at all
I’m the kind of girl
That knows to carefully watch the things I may say
Even though it all
Gets skewed anyway

You can see why I thought we’d be perfect.
You can understand why I wanted to work through it
I nicked my finger trying to open
An Amazon package
Got blood stains on my t-shirt and had to change immediately
Obviously, you know what they would have to say
Sometimes I feel jealous that your life is so black-and-white
Because I feel like the clothing one doesn’t want to put away
And I have no right to complain
My life just turned out this way

When we sat on your couch, and you paused the film
To tell me all about work and all the things that you feel,
I think I fell in love with you for the seventeenth time
And I knew I’d be in love with you for the rest of my life.

Love poem: Skin to teeth, nineteen times (continued)

Because if I accidentally looked down, and hit someone with my car
they would probably say that I had planned this all along
I don’t wanna sound like a victim, but am I truly wrong?
If you were to do quite the same
Regardless of which neurotransmitters were on fire in your brain
They’d forgive you before you even had the option to apologize
Exactly how I did so, so, so many times

Because when I think of that one night,
Our entire future flashes right before my eyes
You and me and Chicago, the city of my dreams
Yet God has other plans
He knows what’s right, it seems
And so did I because when came the sinking feeling
I had the strength to come up for air
Am I self-absorbed to say it?
Am I no longer a casualty if I own it?

Now I’m driving on the motorway, passing by your place
I think I would collapse if I were to see your face.
But if you saw mine,
You may not even recognize
I walk a fine line between being everybody and nobody at the same time

Love poem: Skin to teeth, nineteen times (continued)

I still have visions of us going out
I still have thoughts of us dancing together
I still have visions of us going out
I still have daydreams of us dancing in poor weather

If we were next to each other in the car
And if you were to make a mistake,
No uncertainty I’d take the blame immediately
Because it’s ingrained so deeply within me
Written on the inner walls of my veins
I’d take the blame

A martyr for nothing
A martyr for you and me
And now I’m changing course
I’m thinking things through a little bit more definitively

I’m on the motorway passing by your place
and if I were to see your face
I would hopelessly fall in love for the eighteenth time

“Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life.”
He died for our sins
So that I can make peace with mine,
For the nineteenth time

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Poem: Ant colony (birthday balloons)

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Poem: Ant colony (birthday balloons)

Nuclear envelopes
A testable hypothesis
Will you still love me if I –
Will you drown me out
Like the noise in a soundproof room
He always said he’d like to go to solitary confinement just to get away
For a honeymoon

Light leaks
Asparagine and leucine
Convoluted sighs and my pink floor-length satin dress
Eating three times on Mondays,
Eating four times, the day after
Consuming enough carbohydrates to be like a plant
A prisoner in your gardener
A wide-awake blooming orchid
Couch that fell from a truck bed onto the motorway
We could just make it ours
Watch the fires and fireflies swarm in the distance
Devouring apricots
A routine for my bedtime

Poem: Ant colony (birthday balloons) [continued]

Letting go of lethargic tendencies
But I don’t have the energy
I’m miserable, with or without you
Have to be the writer of my own memoir, the heroine in my own maladaptive daydreams
That serve me quite well
Like soft serve by the beach
Made from plant-based oat milk & Oreos
I’ll let the sea and the sun and the sky devour me, so I can merge with the ants and
Worry only about my colony
What a dream it’s becoming

Empty head
Empty thoughts
Your Percocet
My writer’s block
I’ve been too, afraid, to put this down on paper
A typewriter with no keys
Hands that swell
Knees that bleed
I know perfectly well
That I’m who you need
Will you be there for me, in the daylight and the evenings?
My handsome prince
Tread carefully
I’m exactly who I aspire to be

Poem: Ant colony (birthday balloons) [continued]

I believe in myself, most of all
Though, the cognitive dissonance gets swept like ashes
At a fireplace
Melting, blurring a reality that you swore was three-dimensional
You vase of a porcelain starlit galaxy
You atmospheric void, claustrophobic from your own apprehension
I’m so in love with every part of you
Especially the pieces you really disdain

I’ll take them in my hands
Like the softest of sand

Poem: Ant colony (birthday balloons) [continued]

I don’t know what to do with all these birthday balloons
The vinyl you bought me, thank you, by the way
You precious thing.
And the things I have to move on from
Tangled in grief-ridden spiderwebs
Merging through lanes with my blinker forever on
I follow all the laws
When the crows are watching, carefully

I’ll let the sea and the sun and the sky devour me, so I can merge with the ants and
Worry only about my colony
What a dream it’s becoming

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Love poem: If you could, just, sing to me

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Love poem: If you could, just, sing to me

My day in the blistering sunshine
I wish your hand was latched onto mine
Except when you held it too tight, it hurt, and I said nothing because I was engulfed in the ivory, acrylic paint of the walls
I wish you could soothe me like you do your male friends

I got, rather presumptive
I thought we could make it work because it felt so worth it
Like the tides would change & our circumstances wouldn’t get the best of us
When I fell into old subservient patterns,
That I thought I wouldn’t
I said, screw it
We could work through it
But the tables that turned against me had thorns
My blood wasn’t well & I was increasingly worn
Down by the extent of which, I wanted it to work
A violent but quiet discomposure

Love poem: If you could, just, sing to me (continued)

Down by the bayside
I’ll never forget when an acoustic version of a song I loved in middle school (still do) came on
You threw your head back and sang so softly
I found it mildly alarming how awfully charming
And crisply ambient the evening felt right then and there
My eyes started to tear, and I wiped them real fast
I thought if it could be like this, we’d be golden
Nothing to take & everything to give
That is the drawback to my diplomacy
It doesn’t quite work out for me

Now I’m basking in the feverish sunshine
Hearing the lyrics in my mind
How true they conform to the set of conditions that unveiled my gentle but muted position
I wanted all of it to feel just like that
Right then and there, I was far too aware
That you are a beautiful human being only when you get what you want

Love poem: If you could, just, sing to me (continued)

But I can’t always play the right song
And moments in passing affect my brain far too strong
I latch on

If we could have just stayed at that stop light forever
We would’ve made it work
If you could have sang lullabies to lull me to sleep
We still couldn’t have made it work

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Poem: Merchandise mart

distantcaveLeave a comment

Poem: Merchandise mart

Put your right hand over your heart
Haha, like in first grade
Before the twin towers exploded
When things felt so safe
I was so wild
I’d light papers on fire and stand there, with a smile
I didn’t know I’d be a poet
But I knew I’d be a doctor
Didn’t know I’d lose my father
Not once
But twice
Human beings, being rationed
Five grand so it actually happens
Nothing too romantic
Left roses wrapped in plastic
Thank you for the merchandise

Poem (continued): Merchandise mart

Yes, he was
Only your voice
Trembling softly
Telling me the truth

Thinking of finding
You, for the time being
Ready for the evening
A humble pursuit

I don’t want to let go
If I do by chance let you know
I don’t want to let go
If I speak up and ruin my softness
The sand was abrasive
It spread out like marbles
And I was shaking
You kept asking me to stop

Poem (continued): Merchandise mart

Moving like an infant that
Can’t locate sound
Moving like an infant that
Doesn’t think he’ll be found
A trade-in, a day bed, a hospital-sized alarm clock
I watched you roll down the window, like a dream I had slept in, for a very long time

If I ruin my softness
And the ground is abrasive
Will you trust that I always carry first aid with me
Like an emergency medical technician from the Merchandise Mart

The call dropped when I turned left
I thought
Will you trust that
I say what I mean, and I mean what is fair
The call dropped when I turned
Right
Where I decided to finally belong.

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