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 in blue: Four hours (franklin avenue)

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Love poem in blue: Four hours (franklin avenue)

If you’re new to my collection of poetry, love poems are typically in pink, but this one seemed to fit a blue backdrop better than pink.

I’m alright with being an ordinary girl
Not very many followers, not very many friends
My circle is too small to heal me
So I paint circles with the ink that bleeds off of a page when water washes away all of the bittersweet words
Your old Cambridge literary journals
If I ever loved you, it wasn’t on purpose

I clean up nice
Baby doll dresses
I-, I-, I always wanted to be famous
Just to one person
Just to be his world
His source of power
But I burnt out so, so young
I can taste the bitter tar endings on my tongue
The combustion of whatever you and me ever were to be

One word replies
You think you’re so wise!
You use black curtains to hide from the sun
The only thing hotter than your large caliber gun
A soundproof room
A baby blooms
Angel bed where there lives the city of sin
Insensitive, discerning, you’re impervious to loss
I wanted you badly
But at what cost?

Franklin avenue where my bike crashed into your lawn
And I fell down underneath the hot summer sun
Absorbed it like water on sheets
We laughed and had blisters on our feet
You told me you’d never leave

You frustrate me when you don’t hit me up first
Totaled your Panamera, you forgave me, cos I love you the most
Laughed about it on an Instagram post

In your sleep you have the wildest dreams
Most consist of you marrying me
You’re more romantic than you make things seem
Probably because you don’t know what’s beneath
Your skin is so soft, so soft
Grey fuzzy blanket for movie night in the loft
With you all I ever want to do is get lost
And all I think about
Is me plus you, in any place

In any place
In any place
Let our sour love surface
In any place
In any place

Tell me you love looking in my direction
Make me bleed out my inner infection
Start a bone marrow collection

I close my eyes and picture the garden of Eden
But you’re not there
Well then
The devil in the details is trying to tell me
That this is what I need

A peacefulness cradles me in comatose, amber silk
You’re hopeless and breathless
I’ve loved you for hours
Your despondent wake
Your ivory powder

And I’ve loved you and
loved you
For hours
Four hours
I’ve loved you
For four hours
And hours

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Love poem for a boy: Physics study hall

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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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Free verse poetry: Dream garden (dust)

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Free verse poetry: Dream garden (dust)

Avalanche
Dream garden
February twenty-nine

Too beautiful to me, it is
The way the truth falls but doesn’t diminish its overwhelming servitude
Grief like hollow images and stills
To be flawed and fawned with grey embers & soft wax
Rolled on Ireland’s greenest pastures
My dream garden
My avalanche

I wake up endlessly absolving my sins, unraveling for you
Tell me what it is you want me to do
I’m so aware of what I can and cannot be
And I think it’s best you not be there for me
I tire in my own sleep

Morning cereal
For four in the afternoon
You wash over me like an
Avalanche
Like my dream garden
White roses and picket fences, freshly painted
Soft tuberose fragrance
Dismantling me from within
Fabricated and built in great jeopardy
Soft and of the finest fabric

I think of you in waterfalls, that I’ve never seen before
I ask you to close the door
I’m impatient in the mornings but by evening so wrapped up in comatose fiber sheath
Toying with my own nerves
On purpose
Like a fever dream
Like ants unscrambled
Running out of fear, hiding beneath dust
Moving pollen and feathers to their corporate offices

When I pass by you on the street
With my kitten heels and utmost softness
Try not to
Try not to

Go back to your dream garden
Your avalanche
Beneath dust

Connected by the sheer composition that melts in broad daylight
Collectively held at
A disadvantage
Brought together in the Spring when the ambiance paints a different mood
For the dust underneath the conjoining ether
Without reserve
Still and unenthusiastic
Hopeful, yet without meaning

Find me in my personal dream garden
When the smoke clears

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Love poem for him: earthquake

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Love poem for him: earthquake

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

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