There, concrete bridge Throwing up like a landmine Shocked to the brim Might let you in
You—there for “support” Always following me Wherever I turn up Scared for me Budget B-movies Film star queen The things in-between Get me out of this serene dream
Poem: 77 in [continued]
Them, rotten toys Making all of this devouring noise Unedited, spherical bends of water Shriveling cold beats Turn up the heat To do away with, that’s a fact Or a vision—to destroy Our friends we’ll employ If we have any left by then
You, not forgotten in the least Leather jacket, cold-hearted beast Pockets so deep I put my hand inside And I leave it inside It’s comfort I find Ask how many inches tall you are No matter the answer, it’s still up far But with my hand in your pocket, I smile That little girl smile, you know It’s comfort I find, you know
West Dale Palms boulevard Clover avenue I go to the grocery store And I run right into you Ask me how things are back home Do your days ever feel terribly long I say, I have to go Think I know the place where I belong
Hollywood, Los Angeles at dusk Her perfume smelled like camellias that bloom in November They look just like roses, so naturally I’m obsessed Swing the door open to a settled fire, Capture in my hands: tiny, soft embers Collapsing into moonlight, but Cradled like dust I’ll be strong for both of us If I must
Love poem: Grocery store [continued]
You have to feed your nostalgia sometimes It’s really the only way that you’ll survive It’s how you keep the dreams alive It’s the only way they’ll see you on the other side
West Dale Palms boulevard Clover avenue When I go to the grocery store I always look for you
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
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
