Tag: poetry that doesnt rhyme

Poem: Baby-blue automobiles

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Poem: Baby-blue automobiles (yeah, you)

I ask you, “then how come we aren’t together?”
While you put your cigarette out in the pocket of your sweater,
And I think you’re confused
No way out, know I’ll lose
It’s not like I’ve given every last chance straight to you

Vintage baby-blue automobiles
Crystals, fragrance
Modern, ancient
Total & never-ending disengagement
Yeah, I meant it
Otherwise, I wouldn’t have said it
Vintage baby-blue automobiles
Hot like you’re burning, red hot wheels
I’ve already memorized how me leaving is supposed to feel

Sliding down playgrounds with a grey balloon in my hand
Wearing my Chicago Cubs baseball cap because I’m their biggest fan
You make fun of how pale I am, how I never seem to tan
It’s like this
It’s like this
Turn towards me
Turn towards me
One soft lock of hair, boy with a nosebleed

It’s like this
It’s like this
Just sit still
(Just stay still)
Mornings sitting on the hood of your car
Talking about how in our lives we haven’t made it very far
Vintage baby-blue automobiles
Prove to me that this time your love will be real
Promise and don’t lie that like summer, I will feel
Turn towards me
Turn towards me

It’s like this
It’s like this
Just sit still
(Fucking stay still!)
Mornings sitting on the trunk of your car
Talking about how, baby, you’re gonna be a star
Vintage baby-blue automobiles
Swear to me that this time your love will be real
Promise and don’t lie that the ocean will turn me surreal
Make me feel hopeless

You’re perfect
So worth it
You’re perfect
So worth it

You hurt me
On purpose
You’re perfect
So worth it

On purpose
So worthless

You’re perfect
So worthless
Baby-blue automobiles

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Poem: Surface tension (poolside dreams)

distantcaveLeave a comment

I saw the skinniest girls at the pool today
They were all bone, with graceful flat stomachs
I started to hate myself again
And I considered if
Maybe I was going too far
Maybe they have scars to hide too
But I traced their gentle bodies with my disturbing eyes
And I couldn’t find a somber disguise
Or any evidence that they hate themselves too

Maybe I didn’t look deep enough
What’s on the surface conceals what’s underneath

I toss and turn wildly in my bedsheets
And maybe the spaces of my ribs and the lights in-between
No longer shine, no longer gleam
I look dirty even when I’m entirely clean
I try to smile, but I can’t hold back that I’m so, so mean

They splashed each other while in the water
I knew if I smiled I’d only bother
But maybe they were growing sick of each other
At that point, I’d be a newfound lover
But when it rains it decays what’s left of me
I only feel blissful when I’m swimming in the sea (I feel like it’s a part of me)
I am opalescent in matters of blue
Your favourite shades of Hunter green
Writing poetry with a ruptured spleen
I miss being a fragile and innocent young teen
Didn’t stop you from touching me

Didn’t stop you from touching me
You claimed that you were teaching me
But my skin turned dark like you were leaching me
I’d have the strongest, most bizarre of nightmares
Wake up sweating, alone, and scared
A modest, timid girl
Too small to be bared
You dragged my body up the crystallized stairs

What’s on the surface conceals what’s underneath
When the gun started firing, the bed I hid beneath
Is it always as rosy as the daydream makes it seem?
My God, being dead sounds so fucking serene

My God, being dead sounds so fucking serene

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