Poem: Choking on grapes

Poem: Choking on Grapes

It was on purpose
It wasn’t a mistake
I got
Frostbite
From choking on splinters
Peeling them like grapes

Thin as a needle
You make it seem easy
The ploughing is destroying the peyote
And I have created a party for you, the reason for my demise
I’ve been so intrigued ever since you rolled down the window for me to feel the breeze

You will always have the medicine with you
Wherever you go

Poem: Choking on Grapes, continued

In Texas, I felt free because the gas was cheap, and I had salt in my
Teeth
Washing my brand-new blue jeans
Wheat fields and a can of cola, riding in the bed of a truck looking over my shoulder
Tired of having nobody to say anything to
I feel alone and even though I’m used to it
I still have to shrug it off, it seems
A fig tree standing for no one

Pharmacology is lovely & my favourite toothpaste is by Arm & Hammer
I drive to the nearby Rite Aid, where I get a lottery ticket for my mother
Mixing up my favourite numbers
I never win, but she swears I’m so lucky
I couldn’t spell it out right if you had the guts to call me
The ravens in the sky figured out how to fly
In ways that make girls and boys want to order cameras that run on film
See a kid skateboard home and it’s like it’s 2008
And my hair is blonde
A lavender bush smiling for no one

Poem: Choking on grapes, continued

Cut in half an apricot
Can run for miles; dimes are all I got
My backpack is lilac, because I want the items I own to be beautiful
To represent a part of me that feels eternal
Colour schemes and fever dreams
I get lost
Upside down
Tangled in between two separate swings
Lose and find my favourite things

It must have been on purpose
It was no mistake
Soft cotton
Precious limestone
Overflowing bookcase that survives California earthquakes
Girls are selling their poetry on Instagram and I’m

Still broke
Choking on splinters
Peeling them like grapes

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Poem: Surveillance footage of Heaven

Poem: Surveillance footage of Heaven

An inner emptiness that you can’t translate

Sea urchins watch me spin like a landslide
Unsure what comes next
Not sure if I’ll pull through
Lavender sea bed, schools of orange fish with blue stripes
I breathe every chemical in, and I’m doing so fine

He doesn’t call to come over
I got a dog that comes when called
Didn’t expect that to be
But it fits me quite nicely
She lays against my running shoes
As though they belong to the godly Earth
Call my mother and tell her I’m doing so fine

Poem: Surveillance footage of Heaven: Continued

You come across as
Tender
But you’re more violent than the tornados found in Oklahoma, Nebraska, and the South of Dakota
The plain states which are far from plain, because the bartender knows your name even before you walk in and order what the masses are having

There is a certain irony to how he shows callousness to the world
It so evidently depicts what he tries to hide
Myself, I’ve given up staying wide awake to wonder why,
As there are lavender flowers with higher powers than standard protocol would lead you to believe
I tremble on flat ground, but am most composed where it’s rocky
Try to remember what it was like, but my eyeglasses become foggy

A raindrop in the company of a million oak leaves
Desperate for its singular, idealized attention

You have to be observant without reading too much into certain things
I’ll fade in the summer months, but come up vibrant with the snow in February
Callow and shy, but on Neptune the temperature is
Humid like a riverbed overflowing with algae
Extracted for supplements you find at the natural food store
You only walk in because the weather is poor
(Doing laundry and then doing laundry again because you’re bored)

Tender spirit
Your affection is like
Surveillance footage I watch on repeat

This dog comes when called
I think this is heaven, after all

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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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Poem: A city that’s lit by hesitation

Welcome to my poetry website! Pink poems are love poems & blue poems are more general “life” poems. Each poem is interrupted by photographs and ends when you’ve reached the SoundCloud portion.

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Poem: A city that’s lit by hesitation

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Poem: A million shelves

Welcome to my poetry website! Pink poems are love poems & blue poems are more general “life” poems. Each poem is interrupted by photographs and ends when you’ve reached the SoundCloud portion. I’m currently testing a Push notification application. xx

Poem: A million shelves

A maroon carcass that rests gently on the edge of the seashore
Fresh propane tank
Exclusively at your local corner store
Wearing my baby blue doll dress
Headaches from thinking about it

What we’ve been through
I see it in the corners of this melting igloo
Turn up the temperature
Sit on the fire escape, heavenly embrace
Homemade campfire, fire burning up your home
As the water droplets cascade down
I see fiber nectar start to turn upside down

Look through the hole on your door
To see who’s been knocking all night long
Cut the stems from fresh flowers in that old vase
Hasn’t lost its sparkle
The years are like lightning cables, but I’m so stable
Looking through the hole in my door
To see who’s been scraping at my windshield all night long

A poem about choosing whether to renovate oneself.

Such a romantic scene, velvet slippers & cleaning-service-fresh satin
Mop up discarded memories
I aim to please, I aim to please
Now I put myself first
And the whole world is to burn
Too busy listening to jazz to look through the hole in the door
You can leave a note
You can leave a note

Notebook paper by my bedside
Ash covers my deep green eyes
You’d think I’d be surprised
That disks of memories still replay in my mind
While I drive in the rain
Smiling, smiling all the way
Thunder shifting my car
Absolving into the reminisce that is the end of this year

Turn up the temperature
Sit on the fire escape
You tell people not to do what you really want them to
Leave a note
Leave a note

Be the bigger man
Nine minutes until the fan
Turns off for the evening & I’m left to writhe in this heat

Look after me
Don’t look behind yourself when you walk down the street
Holding a pomegranate smoothie
Writing my website in sharpie on street signs

Be the bigger man
Cradle your face in your hands
Turn up the temperature
Turn off the faucet
Sit on the fire escape
Leave a note and then toss it

The trash can that held a million versions of your most real self

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