Love poem: Sensitive girl

Love poem: Sensitive girl

My father taught me how to shoot
Oh, he sure did, he taught me real well
But I’m a very sensitive girl
What would I really do if I was in front of you?
I don’t think I’d pull the trigger

I would most likely let you.

Poem: Angel (first impressions)

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Poem: Angel (first impressions)

I’m made of limestone; artists come from across the world just to carve me into
Something that can breathe
I’ve got angel wings
That never tear
Can see right through my own teeth
My future with anybody
Carve me into
Carve me into
Something that’s alive and breathing

Drawing faces on eggs and putting them back in the carton at the local market
Way I walk makes a man wish he could properly aim at a target
Not everything comes with practice and this I keep written on the inside of my inner lip
Angel feathers, sparkly pink cream lip gloss
Climb to the tops of the trees he painted when he was severely depressed
Cut down for a holiday that I do adore
Like the perfume I let flow across my bedroom floor

Hazel eyes that are this close to igniting a fire
Soy coffee Frappuccino, five boxes of matches
A liquor cabinet that only holds candles
My love is addictive, so I’m careful where I place my things
The rocks at my apartment complex are fake and so are the looks he gave
Buying lighter fluid by the barrel
Why would you do that to your own home
When it looks so sweet amongst cobblestone
The air is fresh like a diamond that I found in Nevada
Next to waterfalls that only fell
When I would ask them to

My black jeans hold eye drops and amphetamines
A boy in a beanie ordering coffee has forgotten his own name
He doesn’t know what to say
I say pick one, you can be anyone – don’t you know?
He coughs
I melt
Slip in-between the ash brown tiles that line the floor
I only like three bands that make alternative rock
And the rocks are fake around my block
Like the looks he gave when I sipped my coffee and began to realize I was
So much in the wrong place
Glasses that are black, lips that make you blush
I’m used to
I’m used to being both too much

And not enough

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Love poem: Fine craftsmanship (prayers)

Love poem: Fine craftsmanship (prayers)

Wild sweet jasmine
To be your
Ruby red grapefruit, in the evenings
I created the end, and I made it into a new beginning
Cowboys on ranches far away
White carnations
Love letters – February through May
The bitter ruins of my golden but soft decay
My work is my turmoil, my kingdom is where I’ve come home to play
Twirl my hair around thorns, like the ocean
Softly sway
Hips in the distance
Grey fossils, treasured finds
A new day, a fresh surprise
My loving green eyes

Tan corduroy jacket
Your bitter resentment
Hollow times with crisp features
A medieval castle for which the chambers held me too tightly
At an uneven slant
A rug on the floor of rather ravishing woodwork
Fine craftsmanship
Estranged notices
French boutiques
Dolls, eerily
Arranged
In singular form
Entranced forever
When you say your prayers, who are you saying them to
Do you believe they can hear you?

John Wayne’s face engraved on a keychain I bought in a tiny town in Texas
The boys were awfully nice
They said the funniest things
I could imagine, I could imagine
Turning suddenly
Away from the shore
Hardly ever get bored
Always waiting for more
Deftones on megaphones
White leather cowboy boots, whatever fashion means to you
It means nothing to me; I’m so at peace in the wild country
I want to be smothered in everything
I want the most handsome boy in the entire world to come marry me

A sticker peeling off a cup, washed one too many times
I saw what you wrote in your letter
I thought you hinted at
Despondency
It was transparent
So fluid I almost didn’t have to read between the margins
You held your gaze low
I knew what you were about
I can ache but I can hardly shout
Not a day goes by where I don’t rearrange my doubts
And I may mean little to you, but that’s something to think about
The violent vehemence of what this rendition says in whispers to you, me
My small town
My spam risk
My desolate, brisk characteristics like islets of weakness and Beethoven
Beaming down the hallway
Fresh-faced, rosy
She’s so pretty, she’s so pretty, she’s so graceful & pretty
Mid-16th century dream queen

Am I reminiscent of anything that bores you to death
Amphitheaters of despair
Hold me
Unfold me
Run wild with me

Be forever unafraid with me

Who do you say your prayers to
Do you really believe they can hear you

Poem: Little baby bat (February)

Poem: Little baby bat (February)

And that’s all that he needs from her
Pretty gal in his Vans t-shirt
“Felt cute,” so I matched it with a plaid skirt
I didn’t think you’d notice; when you didn’t, it still hurt

To know that I
Am not
The important figurine my egotistical self deems me to be
If our destinations were predetermined,
I know you’d still find a way to hurt me on purpose
Was so confused, wondered why I was acting so nervous
Fell into a tar black trap trying to become perfect
I think to myself, was it worth it
If it’s me, you’ll always think less
Doesn’t matter the lip shade or the dress
Doesn’t matter how warm the hostess

The pretty dresses that I bought to look like your housewife
Don’t even fit me anymore since I recovered and came back to life
I don’t think paradise is
Looking at a light pink satin gown
Having daydreams, strolling around town
Nobody to look at, so where I look is down
Beneath the surface, off the edges, your voice is my favourite sound
I hate, hate, hate not having it around
You lost yourself or something, your irrationality is profound
In this parallel universe, a new beginning is what I’ve found
When I think about my love, I kind of love myself now

Ambiguity and confusion
Inspiration and bliss
Hair soft & golden, my perfume is what you’ll miss
The floral soft magnitudes
The strings on your toys
One of your wrong moves was assuming there were any other boys
When the yelling got too heavy, I surrendered to the noise
I never cried in front of you; I held myself with poise
Some things don’t really matter when you don’t have a choice

I recognized a softness
In you, but it was me
I’m the girl with pastel colours, who makes life lovely
A beautiful, sacred place to be
You felt so far away that I could not see
The visions that you had of me kept smothering me
You had an advantage
You ran out of chances
You never considered the stones I held
To believe in something, to pretend
You loved being adored
I was alone and bored
Pick out keychains with our names at the corner store
Saying that you love me always seemed like such a chore

You move one way, I step right back
I held on tight; I now regret that
It takes some time for me to become attached
But the memories that we contain run like a time-lapse
And I have flashbacks
Panic attacks
Running right after you, you screaming right back
I’m the glass wind shield, you’re the baseball bat
This isn’t what love is like, do you realize that?

I made my resolution early
To not find myself trapped
I wrap my wings around my torso like a little baby bat
I think of you while in traffic, I get so mad
I’m not your baby doll no more, I’m never coming back

Running right after you, you screaming right back
I’m the Victorian vanity mirror, you’re the one whose mad
Then you tell me you love me, but you look at me like that
I’m not your baby doll no more

But I am what you lack

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Poem: Bleed out (coughing)

Poem: Bleed out (coughing)

Anything you say
Anything you say
I promise you can have it all
I promise you can have it all
I’m tiny, I’m so small
I’m amber coated in blue
I’m feeling heavy because the tar is so thick
I feel like I’m running out of whatever makes me tick
I’m coughing up my lungs because you make me so sick
I don’t want to be in love, I don’t want to feel like this
I want you in my arms, you’re all I think of
I saved all the skies for you to make you feel loved
How many more winters do I have to be ashamed of

You’re stuck in my brain and the clips rewind
The pieces and fragments of my crispy and broken, fragile spine
It’s all coming together, you were lying the whole time
But was giving all of myself to you a complete waste of time?

You’re stuck in my head, you’re daylight and amethyst
I don’t want to be in love, I don’t want to feel like this
What I imagined was you and me immersed in honeycomb bliss
I swear to God I thought you were the reason I exist

When you would drive so fast
You scared the life out of me, but I wanted it to last
I never felt safe, and I kind of loved that
In a way it comforted me, but that was in the past

When everything I would write would sound like a love song
When I knew you’d never call, but I’d stay up all night long
I wasn’t even waiting
4 a.m. and I’m pacing
Trying to be patient
You were who I placed faith in
Nothing was changing

I come real close to giving up
You’re all I think of
I bathe and soak in love
You’re all I think of

I bathe in and bleed out love
You’re all I think of

You’re all I think of

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