Category: Pink

Love poem: May birthdays

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Love poem: May birthdays

May is the month of Springtime flowers
But when you leave, the atmosphere is sour
And I’m alarmed
That you don’t believe in a higher power
When it’s sitting across the table from you

I was listening to a podcast where a guy said he went on a date with a woman that was exactly “his type,” so to speak, & he was driving home realizing he couldn’t pursue her because he didn’t want to fall into the same old patterns.

I thought of that statement when I saw you angrily crushing the buttons on your phone
That you call “a stupid machine”
Just like he did
Unreasonably angry in disregard for how beautifully my lilac, dreamlike eye shadow was blurred upon my bare eyelids
Not suited for the evening where we were supposed to celebrate your birthday
Which felt more important to me, than to you
I’d spent the previous evening looking for the most suitable birthday card in the CVS pharmacy that’s a few neighborhoods away, imagining they had better cards than the one several streets away from my residence
Half-wondering if you would display it
Half-knowing it’d be tucked away in a drawer

Do I want to be that girl?
Do I want my eye-shadow to go unnoticed?
Or the sparkle in my eyes to be diminished when you’re preoccupied with something external to yourself?
Do I want to write questions instead of statements on my own poetry website where love is the theme and I’m somehow not the main character?

Hollow and concave
Rich with vengeance
Who your enemy is, is probably unknown to you, me, or the population at large
But the gap I fill, gets bigger every day
But my body does not
So I sit in it, hardly occupying the space
That I wish I could cover like a desert storm would

Unreasonably empty for the evening
Watching you almost punch your steering wheel
Is this where chaos lands me
Is this the dream that I have been chasing down
Like I’m unsure of myself
Don’t know what to do with myself
Have gotten beside myself

Sitting at my desk
Writing, waiting
Wondering what my father would say
If he knew my teenage antics
At my sharp age of near-thirty

Every woman has a man that brings her down to a lower degree
I don’t want to know who I am beneath
The sweet girl I am when I get ready by seven in the evening
To celebrate a birthday that is more important to me, than to you

May is the month of Springtime flowers
But when you leave, the atmosphere is sour
And I’m alarmed
That you don’t believe in a higher power
When it’s sitting across the table from you

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Love poem: Playing my cards right (all night)

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Love poem: Playing my cards right (all night)

I have to be very careful
Because I’ve been
I’ve been in these rivers before
I swallowed marbles and bubbles and committed acts you’d say were inhumane
I was a small girl
I was in pain

I have to play my cards right
Because I just want everything to be serene, the water clear
Everything to be perfectly alright
I’ve been waiting
I’ve been waiting for you
I’ve been waiting
I’ve been waiting for you

I’ve spent long nights
Wondering
Thinking
Just thinking
About everything that keeps me away from you
And how
The line is so thin
And I think
I’m going to cross it again
Like an avalanche in my brain

I’m looking at you but you’re not even
Not even looking at me
I’m looking at you but you’re not even
Not even looking at me
Like I’m too blind to see
Like I’m too naive to believe
That you would be in love with me
Not even looking at me
Are you in love with me
Why won’t you, why won’t you tell me
Not even looking at me

Million, million, million, million things I could say, now, in this field of wildflowers
Hey!
I can’t find my landscape
You’re all I ever dreamt of
I’m falling asleep while I’m awake
I don’t know, I don’t know
How all you do is take
How all you do is take

Like an avalanche
I spread my wings and pick them off, one by one
I have “feelings” and you don’t have “emotions”
I wish I could sit with a typewriter and feed words into your head
Things I want on a handwritten note
Delivered to me by mail
Always on time, without fail
A napkin from a fancy cafe in Paris
Baby, I can tell you all the right things to say
Why, why can’t things just go perfectly my way
Is it unsettling
The way things come into play
The way night turns into day
I can’t look away

You can’t convince someone
You can’t convince someone to stay
But you look so good
So good
So good
So good
So good
When you walk away
When you walk away
Away
Away
Away

When you walk away
The way night turns into day
Like an avalanche in my brain

Love poem: Soy una princesa (productos mexicanos)

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Love poem: Soy una princesa (productos mexicanos)

Oh, you won’t like my picture?
Because you’re mad at me?
Which one of us is reverting to our old ways?
I got something real cool just for you
Rosas blancas
Oh but – they’re mine, they’re mine
They’re mine

I go to the market, Productos Mexicanos
Roll my window down as I drive
Close my doll-like eyes
And the sunshine hits me in the most pleasant of ways
Saying to me, saying to me
You’re crazy
In the most pleasant of ways
Nobody leaves voicemails like I do
Nobody looks as good in a dress as I do
Deserving of rapture
Deserving of fire
Gasoline and lilac fumes to invigorate the night
Soft candle-light, hold me real tight

Yeah, we’re getting high from nothing at all
My mom was right about you
Your concept of me isn’t capable of changing
I need freedom, I need freedom, baby
To be who I want to be
It’s the only way I can be, who you and I both want me to be
The only way to be free
The only way to be me

I need a boy I can speak Spanish to; I need a boy who’s Latino
City Terrace Drive, I take the 605
I want a boy with his own apartment, his own car
Rev it up on the highway, scare the living daylights out of me
With your thrill, hot thrill
Wind in my hair
Let me be free with you
Follow my dreams next to you
Walk alongside you, and only you
Be my thrill
Avalanche on a hill
Inspire me to be whole again

Walking around town, thinking you’re so cool
You don’t have a car & you dropped out of school
Painting portraits of me is the only thing you’ve ever done for me
Ever done for me
Ever done for me
Now it’s done for me

Soy una princesa
No olvides eso
Yo soy la reina
Llevo el mejor perfume
So what do you have to lose, when you can’t see through me
Can’t understand me
Doesn’t even try
I’m vacant as the forever in-bloom, wide open sky
I write and I do not know why
You’re not calling me right now

Right now, right now
Right now, right now
I want a white wedding gown
El supermercado mexicano

Rosas blancas
Rosas blancas
Give me white roses
Love me on purpose
Rosas blancas
Rosas blancas
El supermercado mexicano

Thought I lost you there
Thought I lost
Thought I lost you there
Thought I lost

But I always
Always
Always
Always
Always

Win

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Love poem: God’s favourite flower girl

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Love poem: God’s favourite flower girl

I want to
Lay beside
The edge of your bedside
Realizing I can’t say the words I wish would fill my mind
Out of the fabric from my lost and heavy fingertips
I have
This weight
Encapsulating me in tragic divinity
When you don’t
Look
Me in the eyes
I feel something akin to death to fate’s memory
Are you fond of me?
Tell me,
Are you fond of me?
Please tell me

You smoke
A cigarette I gave to you
Outside
Before the rain starts to fall
I look up
At your broad shoulders
Cream, silk face
Your grandfather sweater and the way I
Don’t think you’ve quite forgiven me yet
I’ll drive home
Gripping the wheel
Trying not to
Trying not to
Trying not to cry
Envisioning me by your bedside
Soft and golden, starry and hazy
Would you let me trail
My fingers
Along your head
In the
Right places
To make you feel

The white flowers at the edge of
My bedside
I bought them for myself
They weren’t given to me
But I wanted
To find
Flowers
On your desk
When I came by
I know expectations are futile
I know they will be the death of me
I think I’ve already lived this lifetime

I drive
Deep into the night
Gripping the steering wheel
My vision blurring
Me chasing
Created memories after each other as they create marked trails in my mind
I can’t see
What colour the light is, or whether it’s telling me to go
And I don’t mind
Because nobody would care
Or know
What flowers
Are appropriate
To bring

For a flower girl
A flower girl
I’m a flower girl
Yes, I’m a flower girl
And there weren’t
Flowers
For my arrival
And yes,
I am a flower girl
I’m God’s favourite flower girl
Always bringing
Flowers
To other peoples’
Weddings
And goodbyes
And celebrations

But what do I have to celebrate?
When I drive deep into the night
I begin to close my eyes
Gripping the steering wheel

Would you get me flowers
If you knew how that would make me feel

I’m God’s favourite

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Love poem for a boy: Physics study hall

distantcaveLeave a comment

Love poem for a boy: Physics study hall

There was a boy with a voice like yours in the physics study hall
I thought it was you
I could feel myself glowing
A little bit
But when I looked in his direction
I only saw my own reflection
In the clear glass of the windowpane
And I looked so gentle
So foggy, so full of you
So full of it
(Hope)

It comforted me
Me there, temporarily filled with bliss
Listening to a voice that was just like yours
Of a guy that was distant, too, but reminiscent in ways
That surpassed my expectations
But ruined them at the same time
(I wanted you, there)
(I wanted you, standing, there)

While I was editing my little daily tasks in my peony-covered black planner
Carbon black
Panic attack
So remarkable, engrained with tact
Grab me right back
Panic attack
Hold me like that
Crisp edges
Distant, so distant, so distant it seems

Lake Michigan, Chicago, Illinois

Take hold of me
Run with me through the pouring, strong but absently delicate rain
Ask me about my past
Tell me about back home
Where your parents are from
Where your sister lives, with her husband, and why you’re not married
By now
In your late thirties

Tell me about the years that you came of age
To blossom, to endure
Rabbit holes
Soft edges
How you became a man
Sharp, marked silhouette, dark fragrance
Cascading vision
Bold and crimson
Smooth and hollow
Ambient surfaces
Ribbons tied with cherry-lined trails
Puddles on the ground and clusters of snails
The stillness seeps beneath me so absentmindedly

I’m reading about
Restriction enzymes
Wondering what I’m going to say to you
When I see you
And I’m wearing my Chicago Cubs baseball cap
Because I know you’re a Dodgers fan
And I wonder
To myself
If you’re going to say something
About that
Fact

And you
Didn’t
And I’m alone now, in the car
About to drive the fourty miles home
Not vacant because I’m too whole to begin with, to be disembodied
But still
Not knowing
Which fragrance you wear
And seeing
Your long blonde hair
Falling alongside your bold, hardened face
That was not looking
In my
Direction

Like a marble that rolls far, far away from you
I thought I heard you in the physics study hall
But I only saw my reflection in a still-glass superficial surface

And that told me all I had to know

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