Tag: autobiography

Poem: Calamine pink (bored)

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Poem: Calamine pink (bored)

Maybe I was made in hell
The way I’m living is how I can tell

A lullaby of daffodils
You hold the camera and tell me to hold still
I’m like a melting candle, the way I’m built
Like Saturday night’s florals, I begin to wilt
Loose edges
Sharp corners
Haha, of course – you did it on purpose
You know, you’re so good at making me nervous
You open the window, but you shut the curtains
I can’t come too close because I will never be certain
If it’s you, the recent news is very concerning
I love to know everything about you, it’s my lust for learning
It’s doing me damage
I’m picking up patterns
I found a loose screw and some nails under the mattress
I have this beautiful velvet dress that’s strapless
But I’ve been gradually weakened, my violence is sapless
And him and his coffee is quite the distraction
Though I’m perilously stuck in perpetual subtraction

Doesn’t buy me roses
No visible action
It’s doing me damage
I’m picking up patterns

I have ten thousand things to tell you
But instead I asked for flowers
You, not so permissive
You aggressively declined
I dreamed of blush-coloured roses, they were just divine
Heaven sent on a plate, a black gun & red wine
I was just wondering if maybe next time…
I could have a guarantee for a cute little valentine
Yeah, sure, that works, he can show up at nine

I’ll look so perfect
I’ll smell of jasmine & pine
I’ve made a plan for our date, it’s a rough outline
I’ll fix up my hair, I’ll trim my waistline
For the misery you put me through, I’ll need an anodyne
I’ll paint my bedroom walls the carbonate powder of calamine
I’m not doing my best, I’m hardly even trying

Lazy afternoons in the pool when it’s forty degrees
I fall all the time, I have wounds on my knees
You’ve never said sorry, you rarely said please
Is it love, or is it the amphetamines?
Stop getting so mad
I’m only in my twenties
But I know the best stones are found at the cemeteries
And I know the absolute best are freshly grown blueberries
When you scream at me, I close my eyes because it’s scary
I think “happy thoughts,” I picture us married
But I keep thinking ’bout how pretty I’ll look when I’m buried

I wanted to be your only
You can’t handle being worried
I’d come for you
Never hesitate to hurry

It’s two in the morning
I’ve made tea for myself
I wear long faux lashes ’cause it’s good for my health
I’m little Team Captain, everything I do is the best
I’m losing my grip, I think I’m failing this test
When you’ve broken everything, what is there left?
They think I’m in a castle, I consider this a mess
Do me a favour and be my guest
When you find out what I’ve done,
Don’t think more – think less
Envisage
Dream about
The thrills the little boys and girls scream about
She forced herself to think of how he must be feeling
She forced herself to think of how he must be feeling
She forced herself to think of how he must be feeling

Girls never get complimented anymore
The boys just presume they’ll get bored
It’s a mistake they’re all making, that I’m sure
But I’m only one person, can I count as more?

She forced herself to think of how he must be feeling
She forced herself to think of how he must be feeling
She forced herself to think of how he must be feeling

Drowned in insecurity because it seemed like disposition
When you really want to die, you make it your mission

The boys just presume they’ll get bored

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Poem: Burial ground (true love)

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Poem: Burial ground (true love)

I’m a very kind and gracious girl
If you let me, I will give you the world
But as the brutality of this world continues to unfold
My mirror’s edge is veiled, my patience can’t be sold

Give me your garden
Make everything quiet
I swear I’m prettiest when I’m not lying
I won’t give up hoping, I won’t stop trying
But it would be a piece of fiction to say I don’t dream of dying

You’re laughing at me
My blonde hair blows in the breeze
I will prevail, even though they’re dead-set on bringing long-lasting harm to me
I see through the trees
When I run, you freeze
Collapsing in child’s fables isn’t only for the weak
Take me with you
I want to know what God knows
Don’t be scared of the nighttime
In the darkest hours, I’m most composed

The more you grow up, the smarter you think you are
But in the same circumstances, you always lose yourself
I collect hard-cover books of flowers & death spells
I know all the wonderful roses by their first and last names
I play with my sanity like it’s my favourite win-or-lose game
You were always so harsh
But me? Oh, so tame
Didn’t know how to respond to all the accusations and shame
I hate you, I love you
It all sounded the same

I’ve decided to take my most loved photo of us down from my shelf
I thought it proved we were real
The space between you and myself
But my mitral valve is still broken, so I can’t afford to inconvenience oneself
Though our smiles were true
You said it yourself
Never seen a girl look at you so warm and heartfelt
It hurts now
But it didn’t back then
Those split seconds repeat in my mind, again and again
You were my prince, my most handsome immunogen
You said I stunned in my floral dress
Dainty and parisienne

I know this frail body wasn’t exactly built to please
I’m a young girl too – I have restraint, but I have needs
My singleness of purpose is far too remote
I tend to break up with boys by posting poems I wrote
When I was at my most fragile, I asked you for a rose
Your promises were painful because I never got those

But your perseverance to love me will be your best power
I stay up wondering how to please you
I only sleep a few hours
Me at my most tired is me at my most sour
How much more beautiful do I need to be, in order to receive a white flower?
I’m sort of like a princess stuck at the crown of a tower
My father’s hung flyers for the peasants and princes to form a line
Some of them have courage
Some barely have a spine
The common denominator seems to be they’re all trying
But if you said it’s to impress me, I’d say that you’re lying

Several days ago, I bought roses
To make myself smile
I didn’t change the water
Just like me, they’re dying

Winters in Chicago were when I felt my most free
The wind chill was so strong, I felt it belonged to me
It didn’t matter that it was a lake, I still saw it as the sea
All I remember are evenings at Argo Tea
Feeling happy, just to be me

You must have composure, you must be determined
I’m taking care of myself, I’m doing it on purpose
The December chill confronts me with things I am sure of
Like how spontaneously great heights can collapse
Like how the disillusioned are most likely to relapse
Like how I felt, true love was almost in my grasp

But as the fog on my window, it visited and then passed
It disappeared just like that
I’m trying not to react

I’m screaming into my pillow
(I’m trying not to react)
I’m folding laundry to feel productive
(I’m scared of whom I’ll attract)
I lied to everybody & said I was fine
(I was so scared the whole time)
I’m taking every analeptic
(I write your name, strike it out with a line)

I picture me in your backyard,
Picking grapes off the vine
I cried the whole way home, driving past the coastline
I thought I didn’t deserve beauty, God doesn’t want me on cloud nine
So I hit up your number,
Forgot you were atropine
And now I’m having trouble sleeping because you aren’t my lifeline
I tell you
I need you!
You say, maybe next time
“I’ve got a girl here, she’s helping me escape my mind”

To some people, I’m gorgeous
To you, I’m saccharine
But everything I am, you will always undermine
I’m not your chosen one
Never your valentine

I’m the one that treads water
Looking for reasons to be alive

If you were safety, you wouldn’t give me your hand
You’d sail towards what suits you
The palm trees, the sand

I would get tired
Give up and drown
You wouldn’t say sorry, because you wouldn’t be around

The water obscures my hearing
The green-blue current is the only sound
I wanted to be loved, the void was what I found
But the ocean is my new bliss, so I fade into the background
I’m five again, I’ve found my new playground

I would get tired
Give up and drown
You wouldn’t say sorry, you wouldn’t be around
I’m five again, I’ve found my new playground
The sea has become my chosen burial ground
The green-blue current is the only sound

The void is what I felt, but true love is what I found

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Dedicated to: James Mark Davies.

Poem: Real love is heavenly

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Poem: Real love is heavenly

Essence of a modern girl
I promise if I fall in love with you, I’ll give you the whole world
Stars and spaceships are what I’m made of
My high ballet bun is your favourite
I sit on the hoods of F-150s and smoke your last pack of menthols
You miss hearing me speak? Pick up the phone, and then call
I’m softer this time, I’m breaking out of these cell walls
I climb the stairs to the roof, close my eyes, and then fall

I taste like strawberries
You like me already
I’m getting afraid of when I have to tell you the ending
It’s painful on purpose
It’s an accident you found me
I think there’s a way we can do this real sweetly
And I see your wisdom and kindness in every strong tree
You have my warmest regards, you’re now protected by me
Benevolence is my new form of safety
Gentle reminders that I can live carefree

Real love is heavenly
Real love is meant to be
Real love is white roses and a cup of Earl Grey tea
And I had the growing feeling that it just wasn’t meant for me
I sing real softly
I can’t stop coughing
I want for you and me to do all these things with honesty
The honeymoon period, the vividness of novelty
I live a sincere life of literature and botany
But I have these things, they’ve really been haunting me
I hate to digress
I do it unconsciously

I don’t want to lie to myself
It hurts my self-esteem, it affects my health
I’ve got this adorable greeting card on my bookshelf
I’m saving it for a month’s anniversary with my future boy
I want to celebrate every minute
Scatter patience and joy
Erase the mold the last two years has made on my delicate bones
Unwavering
I’m caving in
And I don’t even expect to be loved in return

Trace your skeleton at night
Kiss you twice, hold you tight
If you have me by your side, you will always be alright
Best girlfriend of the year
I eat lunch alone, right here
Maybe you could sit down with me and tell me all your biggest fears

I feel love inside me
I spread it everywhere
When’s the last time you looked at someone and really felt that they cared?

I’ll sit right beside you
I promise I’ll be right there
If you can’t see your grandeur, I’ll make you aware

For such a small person, I have so much to share
I’ll sit right beside you
I’ll be right there

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Poem: Femoral artery (fever dreams)

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Poem: Femoral artery (fever dreams)

I watch you when you’re bad
I take careful notes
I set them on fire and summon gentle ghosts
They won’t scare you or hurt you the most
Nothing like true love taken away, not even close

I’m sixteen in a few days, I’m trapped in this body
I want you to mimic a system like monoclonal antibodies
Feed the hunger
Burn the rage
Set flames to whom I accused you of being
Prove me wrong
Come as a surprise
I’m finding I don’t make the impression that I imply
Sunsets after jazz concerts on the lawn
I try to find stingrays in the ocean when I swim
I think if this life is a fight, then I’ll most likely win
But they’re doing a good job of telling God that I sinned

Like fever dreams
Like soft doeskin
That came from a being you shouldn’t have touched
I wonder at what point will it all be enough
Blew smoke in his face, he tried calling my bluff
I wake up strong, but I wouldn’t say I’m tough
My wrists are so small the cops use child handcuffs
I wish I was making all this stuff up

To live a romantic life is to surrender to passion
With the weather today, I would say it’s not in fashion
Love for me will never be everlasting

I want it to be
I desperately hope
But we always lose the ones we love the most
They hit your bare knees, the cascading blue waves
Make you stay up pacing around for days
I don’t have the time, and I’ve lost my own place
I was so far ahead
I was almost there
I thought I was close
I was almost there
I choked on my insides
I was almost there
I saw my femoral artery
Blood soaked my white underwear

Like fever dreams
Like soft doeskin
That you’ll always regret purchasing because your ex-girlfriend was a vegan and the way she wears pink ribbons in her ash blonde hair makes you go wild
You act like a child
And I wouldn’t even say your advantage was mild
Knock on my door
Stay a while
I’ll only be happy watching you char in the fire

I know the feeling
I know the daze
I know the brilliant, beautiful Autumn haze
I know Fridays spent alone and solitary Sundays
I’ll only respect you if you participate in the chase
And God, I love it when you try to plead your case
You lost the bet
The cops know you
You think you get me, but I don’t believe that’s true
You’re only with her because there’s nothing else to do

Playing with marbles on the carpet, so they don’t roll too far away
I don’t have the time
I’ve lost my own place
But I clean up nice and live my life with grace

You’re lucky I won’t let you see me face-to-face
You won’t forget my brutality for several days
It’s my milk white gentleness that you can’t replace
I used to tell you I love you, but now I’ll rephrase

The kind of girl you wish you had for the holidays
The kind of girl you wish you had for the holidays
The kind of girl you wish you had for the holidays
As vital to the body as acetylcholinesterase

It’s my resilient nature that will get me through this phase
I used to tell you I love you, but now I’ll rephrase

Lilac Dove

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Poem: Mid-18th century French (intoxicating you)

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Poem: Mid-18th century French (intoxicating you)

I’m baby blueprint in grid print intoxicating you
I’m the Fourth of July, 3 summers ago when we got high
We asked when did we stop having the times of our lives

My neck is so hurt, it’s too much for me to look down
But I always do
Redirect to separate avenues
Skateboard to my house, I’ll come out for you
Green apple lollipop, sour
Teach me your tricks and make it rain for a half-hour
Just enough to get the grill hot
Just enough to get me to take the most bone-chilling cold shower
I’m coming in hot
But I always leave so cold
In the cab I sit there- forlorn, morose, staring at the floor
Letting the kids run by and do what they’re told
I reminisce about the days when to be elegant wasn’t to be bold, and I coughed like raindrops like saran-wrap covering old left-overs
If it rains it pours, well you’re leaving – I’m sure
You always thought your music taste was so obscure
If it rains, it pours
Well, you’re leaving – I’m sure

I’m melting into hydrocodone bitartrate so crystallized you’d sell me for my Chemistry degree and put my name on your white t-shirts
Spray mist on your face until you’re reimbursed
Like daggers, how smooth you are when fatalities aren’t your responsibility, and you make your way down to the ferry where the starfishes know your name and keep it a secret
Nobody cares anyway

I’m coming in hot
But I always leave so cold

It’s too much for me to look down
But I always do
Reaching separate avenues

I said, life is a gamble
But I’m covering my face with my hands
My life is in shambles!
Can someone help me escape from this nonchalant misery I’ve so gracefully pretended is how to live a life?
I don’t make sense to anyone
I’m always deleting phone numbers
Past lovers
The smothered
The weak and the downtrodden, England in the shade
Four in the afternoon
Crisp, deafening cave
When you and I were little, we loved to misbehave
But now the landlord is asking for payments for our graves
And it’s mid-18th century French and it means
“Go fuck yourself”

Somber
Oppressively sober in mood
He looked at her with this decadent tone that I’d almost call smooth
If it wasn’t for the violence we heard up the street
The night skies were starless
I fell asleep regardless
I just wanted to escape for a week or two
I never knew my nightmares would come true
I liked the dark and the dull in colour but honey, what happened to you?
What’d they do to you?
What are you so scared of?
Why do you still try to write songs out of my poetry?
Why do you recycle and reread my emails?
Why do you send me false compliments in the mail?
Why’d you hire an attorney when you’d likely be better off in jail?
I don’t particularly adapt to being hated
I just deal
Fifty-dollar bill
I have a white dress that makes me look like a ghost and I thought I met a new boy that would love me the most
But he’s slipping out of my fingers, of course
Tell me I’m not predictable

Grey daffodils, crisp July skies
I just wanted to escape for a week or two
I never knew my nightmares would come true
It’s November and there’s not much more to expect from the undesirable residue
I just hoped I could sit down and paint you
Make something beautiful
Capture a black button-down shirt

Was it good when it hurt?
I’m stumbling over forgotten words
Insecure (or in great difficulties)
He was miserable without her

All is not lost
There is still some chance of success or recovery
But me, haha, me?
Sometimes when a defeat has been sustained
It’s better for everyone involved that you don’t speak my name

Not that there is much to be ashamed
It’s just
Was it good when it hurt?
I told you over and over,
I’m not a good flirt

I’m not a good flirt

If it rains, it pours
And it’s mid-18th century French and it means
“Go fuck yourself”