You know I stopped myself before I could love you But We broke apart And I can’t help but stare At your blank, sad face And the only thing sad about it Is that you’re not afraid to let me go You’re not afraid to let
I tried to wake up But I’m always on the wrong side of the bed We never got to have that night in the hotel We never got to have that heavenly first dance The first and the last pages don’t make me too sad It’s the way the world turns Your fingers latched on Not very tight Like a blouse that’s unloosened A foggy memory that never becomes clear
I’m trying to relive the skyscrapers and unraveling chaos Though all that comes to mind in abstract vision and delusion, Is you screaming in my direction Telling me to stop Telling me to stop Telling me to stop
What makes you so afraid To show love to an unloved person The way you play guitar It makes me so sad It makes me so sad Not for anything do you feel bad Like grey, fallen embers on a cold winter night Even though you’d say you’d never Be there for me Your sovereignty Your power
And I remember you Telling me to stop Telling me to stop Telling me to Telling me to stop
Feeling the things that only I do The distance that separates me from jagged, carbon you In ocean waves, we grasp at what feels familiar What’s underneath us will quench our thirst Yours, preferably Mine, isn’t regarded Unless it’s four in the afternoon & the sun is piercing your nerves Telling you that these antics are your last fatal curse I’m far removed To tell you the truth I do only the things the boldest among us do
I don’t wait until there’s nothing left to take In the distance between your brown eyes And these soft, fallen embers of Victorian blue Crawl back Crawl back Panic attack Mesh and in pieces Forgive me for grieving
All ends in love, and love has its reasons Come find me Come find me Come find me Come find me
It’s so unnerving Like an earthquake on purpose It’s so delectable Like you’ve lost your ability to reason
I’m always portrayed as the one who leaves the throne Gown is disheveled, porcelain skin intact Like an earthquake on purpose Telling me to stop
Feeling the things that only I do What has become of rage has given its way to you
I am a lavender riverbed Milky and calm, docile and proud Warm in the daylight Looking for you, in the crowd Foreign faces that look so withdrawn from me My small network of webs and dandelions Like tulips that fade to faint, but realized, shades of deep pink & lavish gold Rising with the sun Feeling down on my drive home A mainstay of sleep-away camps and forgotten flowers Collapsing in the evening On my lush bedspread because I’m tired, so tired Of living without you
To write My digits Down on a scratch sheet of paper A ripped-to-pieces piece of art Silence heard through a megaphone I used to adore that store, the one named Michael’s The one that sold craft supplies, stamps and postage, stickers that sparkled In the right light Ribbons and yarn, solid charcoal-black projectors Fine point pens – Thin, less than a third of a millimeter, dark black and anachronistic ink
(Sink your teeth in) I swept through pages for ages, dancing on melatonin fiber sheath Metallic highlighters to turn my pathophysiology notebook into sheer pink that gleams With bright, sky, abstract blues Colours I’ve never lost touch with, clearly My eternity, my world Proof I exist
Vivid, soft, enchanting, nice A sense of completeness Something to admire In the evenings When I’m at my desk Working like a husband who’s ignoring his wife But I’d never ignore you I’d let you Enter my world “Come as you are” Leave, never Hold on, tightly Feel at peace
Absorb my warmth Don’t hide from me Come alive with me
I’m starting to Hesitate But I do exist boldly, fiercely Not looming in melancholia, but observing you working on your gadgets With your five-thousand-Kelvin bright, white light Attached to your forehead That doesn’t correctly present your age in years My time spent here Is nice when in The presence of your softly arranged cable-knit sweaters That you look like an angel in
I am Starting to lose my vision Or reminded of the vision that I have already lost I need To know nothing But be admired For existing If that can come true? Of course
I am Starting to lose my vision Or reminded of the vision that I have already lost I need To know nothing But be admired For existing If that can come true? Of course
What God has created will see God when creation ends
Of course I can’t argue with the possibility that, I am deserving Of love that knows no bounds Scream so loud we escape the surround sound Because we’re terrified of gravity’s inner turmoil and how houses suddenly catch on fire How teenagers stay up for hours not knowing they need sleep to grow and Won’t you silence my inner critic That tells me I’m not Pretty in this bright, white light
It’s only when you Turn to me That I am concave and ice And like ice, that dissolves I melt like chamber orchestras
Falling deeper into the web of eternity’s vision statement My residence in this world Is only complete, if you’ll put the down payment down And we’ll elope to the moon
It’s the waves of sadness that trickle with madness As I cascade onto the lost heavenly golden shore, Like a goddess from a stolen shipwreck, I swim upstream, like an airplane in the wind I won’t press send yet I’ll leave you diamonds and all of your belongings, arranged into their definitive but transient places Sprawled amongst my living room Garments, piles of yarn & cotton I thought I had it, but my god I’ve lost it
The breathtaking splendor Of an afternoon in November When you cradled me like a little baby in your mariner’s arms, Like a tomboy Like a child Like with you, I’d happily run wild Any day of the week Do you mind if I speak Or leave love letters, here and there, for you to read When your eyes are Closing In-between somber nighttime The stillness I could never objectify
A smooth transition Won’t you pay attention I’ve got my hair in curls, a floral neckline A passerby’s time Glance at the clock I almost forgot I have to let the sheep out before the wolves come back From hiding They do like to do that So rambunctious and eerie They paint me quite freely
I do love their art – I go to all of their showings Even when they take place on a Tuesday, or Wednesday, and I’ve got more work to do than I can account for
I’m a lady of charm And you’ll always find me armed That part you can disregard
Glock 23 G23 Pistol Semi Auto Firearm Handgun Schematic
I won’t shrink in your presence I occupy a throne I go to places where most would be too scared to step on their own It’s my afternoon glow When you find me on that smooth soft-stoned path, The dismay leaving my eyelids as I cast you not an ember of a doubt But a becoming smile Welcoming Almost Briefly Weeping Holding to you closest, what you want most
And that is? That is? Something to never be replaced Something I won’t touch lightly on Whispering to those in particular who have the patience to sound my vowels and consonants out, deal with the aftermath Elegantly Soft in the evenings Rambunctious – they all are Their witch hazel broiler room ticking clock Like apricots at a wedding In the middle of February For no reason, no reason For no reason at all
I sat down with you, there, close to the prisoner’s fence I wanted to inquire whether you loved me I can’t remember what I said But I did And that’s that You’ll run me a cold lavender bath Finding my hazel glow a little too appealing Hopefully, I hadn’t been too revealing The room is spinning And I am thinking
You’re like sweet nectar from a flower that’s never been held
The type of girl that you want to meet And to think that we met on the street And you watched me tag my website on the grey, electrical box in black sharpie and cursive For nobody to read, to not bother to glance And you laughed not at me, but with me Like we were on amphetamines Like you aren’t as traffic-stopping, rush-hour-madness gorgeous as you are How you framed a framework of genuine spirit And the spirits on your golden side table And the sweet drinks you made me because you store simple syrup Little bartender in a black top With hair like she just left the Manhattan salon With a smile like she’s been happy all along
I don’t think I ever mentioned it at all I was just Struck By the plants you have arranged on your glass windowsill The cotton, white, dreamlike, lush bedspread (I made your bed for you like a hundred times) I wanted to show you I can perform acts of service Because I clean when I get nervous
And my god, my dear god My god, did you make me nervous But not on purpose Some people exude a confidence that inspires the same thing in yourself But there’s still this nervous laughter of How is she so composed How is she hardly older than I, and so, so – Full of experience Full of delight Worth talking and laughing from dark to the morning light If this is fleeting, I can accept that But some people You want to know what lets them breathe And I’ve got your clothes, I’ll give them right back My New York damsel in sovereignty, too chill to be distressed I’ll have you at your worst; I’ve already seen you at your best
But I’ll have you at your worst; I’ve already seen you at your best
I hope that you’re happy I hope you wake up and fall in love with the world I hope your parents love you And if they don’t, I hope that in your head you tell them to go fuck themselves but keep them in your prayers every night You deserve Confetti streamers on your birthday Someone to travel on the train for 2.5 hours with 29 golden balloons to Surprise you with celebration
Something about you is so familiar Something about you is so new You looked at me with cocaine eyes when I grew solemn and blue But I wasn’t tired of you I was just tired- I was up all night! This girl’s got a bedtime And I slept well But it might be my insecurity, for I can’t tell
If I made the right impression God, I talked so much Why’d you make me feel so comfortable! Why did I have to enjoy your presence! Under the city street lights when I first glanced in your direction, I thought “my god, she probably has everything”
The first impression That you made It is one that may partially come from you, and a portion from the book you lent me Well, I’ll read it, and all that you highlighted – I love the little shades of blue hue I’ll learn your secrets I hope you’re living A life you dreamt of I hope to be Someone you’ll send a message to when you’re Stuck Not knowing what to wear, Bored and want to make me a drink, talk about the weather, don’t even have to think Want someone to make you laugh about everything Because I’m good at being that
My New Year’s resolution is to be accepting of myself So I can stop second-guessing whether others accept me And start living life as boldly and securely as you appear, you stunning avalanche of a porcelain doll
Think I’m starting to think This year is going to be new for me It’s only the seventh, and I’m on my pink bedspread in your cream white sweater Somehow we’re the same size Even though you’re smaller Porcelain and clover, golden and sapphire
And you like luxury the way I do And you don’t eat animals because you care And we’re the same age but wiser beyond our years Even though the boys would never tell us that our face
You’re awfully good at first impressions Is there anything that I forgot to mention? Shut up, don’t make fun of me for my apprehension
Make love to me under the twinkling lights Let me give you directions
Porcelain skin, long princess hair With plants on your windowsill Downtown Los Angeles, May earth baby girl of nonchalance & sheer observation
Because being alive is just enough for you Because being alive comes naturally to you And you told me, not once- but twice That you’re happy I’m here too New York baby doll You were a star in the fleeting night While you’re in your studio, I’ll be right here I’ll be right here The things you said to me They meant so much to me to hear
The plants arranged on your windowsill I can’t wait to tell you their genus and species Because I like biology And you like theories And your projector television screen illuminated a light upon your silhouette that made you look even more like a fever dream
In your cream sweater I feel much better
So call me if you ever want to chat about the weather
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You were a one-man show Hardly feeding off the audience And I was so afraid of ever letting you down But when I think of last winter I lose my train of thought Like my body’s trying to tell me Not to go back there Not to stay aware Not to send you a letter to let you know I’d be there
I don’t have Any photographs Because I thought I wasn’t the type to document things And when you’d leave the table To take a call I’d find comfort in sitting alone at the bar Like I showed up on my own With nobody to remind me The emptiness of staring in the corners of the eyes of my boy as he’s gazing away Not taking notice of the blush on my cheeks That I re-applied several thousand times To paint myself as A happy girl A happy girl The corner of your deep brown, vacant eyes
I stayed awake, most nights Couldn’t bear to turn off the lights Had stunning pink visuals running through my neural fiber sheath Racing our cars against each other Through the wind and never without Asking about your day because that, to me, was the most important part of mine How I grew so tired sometimes Wondering if I had Mistakenly locked myself up in a basement surrounded by mirrors I could never bring myself to look in because I knew The light pastel pink blush on my cheeks Wasn’t quite right Wasn’t quite right
Sometimes I hear a song That I think you might like I guess I’m still wondering how to make you feel better It wears me out I turn off the sound Because of this, it just doesn’t feel right It just doesn’t feel right That it’s a Saturday and I’m alone tonight
But it’s like I’ve arrived at my desk so that I could sit with the silence Wondering the count of the distance between us in miles Ripping the Christmas card I bought for you into small pieces That was old news, old news, old news Maybe next December I’ll have gotten over you
And that could feel Quite right And I could turn off The light And I could get my blush Just right
