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
Arachnids are crawling all over me. They’re starting to really itch my knees But, honey, the way you throw your head back When you laugh At the way I dance To these songs that I’m showing you right now, in this light, You are sunshine, Pure sunshine.
I’ll learn how to pick a lock just for you If that’s seriously what you want me to do I’ll find an online manual, I don’t even care where I’m afraid of the things I would do for you But I keep it very composed, calm and close And the way you look with your mauve lip gloss Sunshine Bright lights Yellow dahlias So mine
You look way too beautiful to be sleeping in a bed That’s Lying flat on the floor I mean, I’m pretty sure I hate when I find songs that make me perfectly think of you, I end up playing them into the night.
I don’t even know what this fragrance is But, oh my, am I all over you There is rosewater flowing out of the tap And a white pickup truck in my driveway Oh my, what am I to do? Oh my, what am I to do with you? So fragrant, so lush Like fruit How soon can I marry you?
I had a surprisingly good dream for once. Seems like the night terrors are temporarily at bay All it was was that I was having a conversation with someone who was looking straight at me and Laughing In the loveliest of ways. He just wanted to hear what I had to say next Somehow I felt so comfortable sitting there in my seat I kept making jokes I kept stumbling over my words What’s new there? But I was so happy, for once, I think And I woke up, and I told my mother that I had had such a splendid dream But it was only a simple conversation. The kind that the normal people have seen.
I have On repeat Every day, Like a habit Muted faces Mutilation Picket fences Fresh paint Every day Like a perfect habit Dirty pickup truck That I wash every Saturday And I see the plane flying And I don’t wanna be on it Because I’m comfortable being right here Because of your perfume
Intoxicating Trembling Can’t quite describe The ending All that I Remember Is the smell of Your Perfume
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You know up and down what real love is My god, have you felt and known that before You see it traveling through your own veins Sparkling bright on the kitchen floor
I decided to Write myself a love letter Because who really knows Me any better?
What do I keep hurting myself for Nobody’s looking in the mirror but you I keep on dreaming what life has in store But spin in circles until my knees fade to a distant blue It’s so chaotic living like this Never licking icing off the birthday cake Consumes me like frostbite by the lake The peak of my landscape of moth wings And when I take the time to Unpack my belongings I suddenly realize My god, I’m in love with everything So why do I Keep feeling like this Like I’m the only one Like I’m the only one Like I’m the only one
Love poem: Moth wings (continued)
We could see the winter snow again Buy the coat with the elegant faux fur You don’t even have to make amends Cos even God knows talk of sin is absurd We could see Lake Michigan freeze to death While what’s underneath simply carries on One day I’ll get out of bed Just in time to watch the morning’s sun
You know back and forth what real love is My god, you feel it now, just like you did before Watch it coarse through your own stunning veins Opulence and nervousness on the closet floor
Love poem: Moth wings (continued)
You’re too young to be afraid Too old to hesitate We can swim right in the lake ‘Till your body collapses on the seashore
So I decided to write a love letter to myself Not because men let me down But because the sound waves miss my eardrums I go days without hearing a sound But god, I love the tone of my own voice Think it’s so funny that I picked up a southern accent Next time someone says my name I’ll remember I’ve been heaven-sent
Love poem: Moth wings (continued)
I can swim right in the lake In the city of my dreams ‘Till my pale body collapses on the seashore Flooded with hope like the legs of a millipede I am warm and fragile and cold My hair tends to burn if it’s by the fire But my New Year’s resolution will still be to be ‘comfy cozy’ If I said I was suicidal, I’d have to be a liar
I can swim right in the lake Lick frostbite like it’s ice cream Knowing I’d have to seek urgent care Hold myself real tight, several times during the day Feel the humidity of the shower when I’m bare I’m a mother to my children and myself Lover of trucks, flowers, rose petals, and guns I can stick around for a while
Just because I think it’d be fun.
Like I’m the only one Like I’m the only one Like I’m the only one With moth wings
Nuclear envelopes A testable hypothesis Will you still love me if I – Will you drown me out Like the noise in a soundproof room He always said he’d like to go to solitary confinement just to get away For a honeymoon
Light leaks Asparagine and leucine Convoluted sighs and my pink floor-length satin dress Eating three times on Mondays, Eating four times, the day after Consuming enough carbohydrates to be like a plant A prisoner in your gardener A wide-awake blooming orchid Couch that fell from a truck bed onto the motorway We could just make it ours Watch the fires and fireflies swarm in the distance Devouring apricots A routine for my bedtime
Poem: Ant colony (birthday balloons) [continued]
Letting go of lethargic tendencies But I don’t have the energy I’m miserable, with or without you Have to be the writer of my own memoir, the heroine in my own maladaptive daydreams That serve me quite well Like soft serve by the beach Made from plant-based oat milk & Oreos I’ll let the sea and the sun and the sky devour me, so I can merge with the ants and Worry only about my colony What a dream it’s becoming
Empty head Empty thoughts Your Percocet My writer’s block I’ve been too, afraid, to put this down on paper A typewriter with no keys Hands that swell Knees that bleed I know perfectly well That I’m who you need Will you be there for me, in the daylight and the evenings? My handsome prince Tread carefully I’m exactly who I aspire to be
Poem: Ant colony (birthday balloons) [continued]
I believe in myself, most of all Though, the cognitive dissonance gets swept like ashes At a fireplace Melting, blurring a reality that you swore was three-dimensional You vase of a porcelain starlit galaxy You atmospheric void, claustrophobic from your own apprehension I’m so in love with every part of you Especially the pieces you really disdain
I’ll take them in my hands Like the softest of sand
Poem: Ant colony (birthday balloons) [continued]
I don’t know what to do with all these birthday balloons The vinyl you bought me, thank you, by the way You precious thing. And the things I have to move on from Tangled in grief-ridden spiderwebs Merging through lanes with my blinker forever on I follow all the laws When the crows are watching, carefully
I’ll let the sea and the sun and the sky devour me, so I can merge with the ants and Worry only about my colony What a dream it’s becoming
I need moral support You’re all so boring I’m smoking a cigarette in the apartment Light pink slippers The room turns to melting frost
I need to make a choice You’re all so lonely I’m smoking a cigarette in the backyard Bamboo curtains Disheveled in appearance but on trial on time
Serving our community Driving with my eyes closed An avalanche and beat-down neighborhood where funeral homes are sold I love him but he won’t bear arms So how can he protect me If you can send me a silver lining Tell my father I’m tired of waking up and fighting Won’t you inspire me FedEx me your venom through an umbilical cord
Dandelion and Baby’s Breath They crowd around me Tear out my hair Laugh at the angles of my bones The fog terrifies me Though I’m so aware I’ll crumble if I’m not composed
Even if I’m brittle I’ll stay up for a little
I met a girl named Isabel Passed me an ashtray in her jet black corvette Ambiguous Butterflies For how long For how much longer Dad, how much longer do I have How much longer do I have to keep doing this
Just to get home Just to get home Closing my left eye to see straight She had gold silverware in her jet black corvette Told me her boy was frustrating her because he always forgets
Took the wrong exit off the freeway Ended up in a ditch Peace was there Waiting for me Nobody stopped to ask what I was doing If you want miracles, I’m living proof of it
Plain charcoal grey t shirt I want to write the kind of poetry that scares boys away The right one will see me for my diamonds and my smoke screens A bridge gently collapsing Laying down next to a fountain
I don’t go to parties Because the people tend to bore me They stand in circles and ask each other “what’s up?”
