Love poem: Moth wings

Love poem: Moth wings

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

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Poem: Ant colony (birthday balloons)

Poem: Ant colony (birthday balloons)

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

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Poem: That’s what’s up

Poem: That’s what’s up

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?”

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Love poem: Fine craftsmanship (prayers)

Love poem: Fine craftsmanship (prayers)

Wild sweet jasmine
To be your
Ruby red grapefruit, in the evenings
I created the end, and I made it into a new beginning
Cowboys on ranches far away
White carnations
Love letters – February through May
The bitter ruins of my golden but soft decay
My work is my turmoil, my kingdom is where I’ve come home to play
Twirl my hair around thorns, like the ocean
Softly sway
Hips in the distance
Grey fossils, treasured finds
A new day, a fresh surprise
My loving green eyes

Tan corduroy jacket
Your bitter resentment
Hollow times with crisp features
A medieval castle for which the chambers held me too tightly
At an uneven slant
A rug on the floor of rather ravishing woodwork
Fine craftsmanship
Estranged notices
French boutiques
Dolls, eerily
Arranged
In singular form
Entranced forever
When you say your prayers, who are you saying them to
Do you believe they can hear you?

John Wayne’s face engraved on a keychain I bought in a tiny town in Texas
The boys were awfully nice
They said the funniest things
I could imagine, I could imagine
Turning suddenly
Away from the shore
Hardly ever get bored
Always waiting for more
Deftones on megaphones
White leather cowboy boots, whatever fashion means to you
It means nothing to me; I’m so at peace in the wild country
I want to be smothered in everything
I want the most handsome boy in the entire world to come marry me

A sticker peeling off a cup, washed one too many times
I saw what you wrote in your letter
I thought you hinted at
Despondency
It was transparent
So fluid I almost didn’t have to read between the margins
You held your gaze low
I knew what you were about
I can ache but I can hardly shout
Not a day goes by where I don’t rearrange my doubts
And I may mean little to you, but that’s something to think about
The violent vehemence of what this rendition says in whispers to you, me
My small town
My spam risk
My desolate, brisk characteristics like islets of weakness and Beethoven
Beaming down the hallway
Fresh-faced, rosy
She’s so pretty, she’s so pretty, she’s so graceful & pretty
Mid-16th century dream queen

Am I reminiscent of anything that bores you to death
Amphitheaters of despair
Hold me
Unfold me
Run wild with me

Be forever unafraid with me

Who do you say your prayers to
Do you really believe they can hear you

Poem: Calamine pink (bored)

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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