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
Fresh lint from the dryer My niece is crying Because a boy pulled a baby-pink ribbon straight from her hair & I told her, don’t worry He didn’t take anything real from you The most genuine things are More intangible than they seem
So now I’m at the laundromat Watching my lavender and velvet blanket dry Something too delicate of material to end up in this white, vacant space But I have already been charged For a thousand liar’s crimes Not my own, but it’s easy to take the blame When the minds of the reckoners aren’t something you can change
Love poem: Passenger door // grocery store [continued]
I used to dream about being held By someone so powerful That they could both start and end bar fights for me Think I was in my early twenties So my wildest visions Would make little sense to someone truly thinking of settling down You have to act your age In this kind of upscale town
Then you handed me a receipt Me, counting your naturally full lashes How strong they must be and if only Mine were too To resist my pulling them out When I both do and don’t have free time Which my mother would say is a crime But laugh with me thereafter Because true love doesn’t see you in black or in white Genuine love both does and does not fight
Love poem: Passenger door // grocery store [continued]
Your voice was alarming Because it began softening Every tense fibre locked and chained to itself within my body I warm my shivering shoulders with how hotly My breath is on evenings Like this one, in which I could not care less about who or what surrounds you and me They are just bodies And you are warm nectar That only the most tender of creatures know how to find
I showed up on time Your shift is almost over But I am too shy So, I take my bags Spill a few things, say it’s alright “You don’t have to help me” (Oh man, but I want you to) Pretend I have plans when you ask what I’m doing (I am such a poor liar, the truth practically stained on my teeth)
I want you to go sit in the driver’s seat Open the passenger door for me
I don’t want nothin’ The taste in my mouth To want is to crave is to isolate Like you’re sick
I may care to admit that it was my fault My not bothering to understand you, ask the things that really mattered What is it that you do to relax after a stressful day? Tell me about the things that frighten you Make sure for our sake that I’m not one of those things
Love poem: Polished shoes & Burberry perfume (continued)
I’m a dandelion In your crystal abyss of a forlorn cave, I don’t cry very often I want you to hold me throughout the day Feel close to me I’m free-flowing like a loose feather A father that doesn’t scold his kid A mother who holds you right back
Love poem: Polished shoes & Burberry perfume (continued)
I’m driving, just like everybody. Driving you crazy, but I think you like it I’m obsessed with roses and peonies and you’re obsessed with my Burberry perfume We make a good pair and I like the way I look in the windowpane glare Cos I’m happy for some reason, for some reason, Can you tell; can you tell?
You drive a jaguar, no, I’m just kidding It’s a Subaru Do you have any reason to believe that I don’t think you’re super cute You drink your key lime and strawberry And you like my Burberry Perfume the way it Sneaks up on ya Don’t ya wanna Hold me forever for the rest of the night
Love poem: Polished shoes & Burberry perfume (continued)
An auteur to be reckoned with, to be recognized I saw the way you polish your shoes Like you want to fade into the background I’ll grab you right back I’m hospitable like that Sit next to you on a garden swing
Love poem: Polished shoes & Burberry perfume (continued)
Don’t ya wanna Hold me forever for the rest of the day Don’t you want to Tell me you’re going to stay
You are, shorter than my father So maybe our babies Could be small enough to fit in our pockets Even when they want to leave the nest (We won’t let them)
I am, not frail – but delicate Have cuts all over my legs from traversing the wild hills that scrape the fields you envy when you drive past the street I’m claiming as my own for the evening I’m alone in my own portal, and I’m trying to show this dog an earthly Heaven Things don’t go as planned Born in September, so plans for me are fun to make And I wildly bake In the crisp and fallen ashes of a crocodile fire Lit by a herd of wild animals That nobody else says were there
Love poem: This is why (continued)
I don’t, behave On Wednesdays A childlike ambience to my default state of Cradling myself in bed and only coming out to feed I am, unsure of who in my surroundings is fond of me It’s something I push to the back of my tired brain Don’t think about it, don’t analyze This concept has yet to make sense I do like when I wear a lilac top and these black shorts To swim through fields of wheat mixed in with golden, sombre flowers Holding my baby darling like a waterfall She doesn’t, behave On Mondays nor Tuesdays
And I Love Spilled oat milk As it reaches my carpet & seeps in between the fabric I lay on the ground Thinking of how He lied to me when he said he thought of me while writing those songs It was just for the sake of conversation When you find out someone’s romantic, so you play the role That’s not how I want life to go
Love poem: This is why (continued)
I want nonchalance with a secret tendency to dramatize That complements my inherent practicality and Choice to turn this car around on the freeway by moving over the cement blocks that divide the different directional paths Will I scare you like that? Do I have to?
I have, two weeks to myself Though filled with doctor appointments & studying for an exam that will Determine where I go in life from here To me, that’s thrilling And you, are spilling
Oat milk in my kitchen, and it’s dripping Making its way to the carpet So I’m laughing Because you’re obnoxious But deeply honest
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Welcome to my poetry website! Pink poems are love poems & blue poems are more general “life” poems. Each poem is interrupted by photographs and ends when you’ve reached the SoundCloud portion. I didn’t like the Push notification service, so I’m working on a new email newsletter for updates. xx
Love poem: Initials inscribed
I think I got a good one Don’t want to let him go But silk and satin separate here That’s really all I know
Got a gun in my purse I’m walking on the haunted hills I don’t mean to tell offbeat jokes But I like the way it makes you feel
Wavering and wandering, I can’t even see straight When I throw a dagger, I don’t know where it goes I don’t want to see red, but I’m so in love with colour Vivid, I like it vivid, I like the deep blues That scare you I’ve been there too Afraid to be in my own skin So I can try yours on Tailor it just right to fit you Give it to you back clean, with only my initials inscribed Between your clavicles in cursive font This is the way the world spins What are you waiting for, just get in Breathe a little bit in the boiling river with me
I can take you to I can take you to the brink of insanity Though you’ll find it’s more apricot and mesh than you could have dreamed I know what’s on the other side Flown there a billion times The places I don’t know, yeah they’re calling for me I can take you to the edge of insanity Show you how blooming and lovely it feels
A beach of all rocks, I’m made of charcoal – this much I know I’ll be your stepping stone When you find yourself alone and feel like nobody’s on the line Oh, I’ll come on by I drive faster than all the vehicles on the highway combined Immeasurable, transferable, soft with elegance and no hint of dismay I’m etched into the clouds for you Yeah, I’ll be there for you Show you a world that’s clandestine and brand new Got it on lock
I tailor my own skin So that it fits me just right So that when you look my way You see me in just the right light
Lie down on this river bed with me There’s no future, there’s no past There is only the space We occupy For the night
And if We separate I’ll have Pushed you In the direction you were heading anyway
Sweet boy Nothing to be scared of You know that You know that Don’t you now
