Tag: love poem

Poem: One letter sent, one letter kept (lunar crater)

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Poem: One letter sent, one letter kept (lunar crater)

Even the smallest meteorites can make a dent
A shower in the afternoon, music absolutely must play
I can’t give my mind too much space
Tried to hate you, but the action is impossible for me
A sensitive, contemplative queen
Take inspiration from the female main character on my television screen

Dying to spend time outdoors
Perfect place to talk with you
Where nobody can yell
Keep up appearances, keep moving forward
Naturally, I’d be stopping to take photographs of plants
Though I am truly interested to hear how you draft
Your words so carefully and yet,
They still hurt
My own oblivion—how unusual; it’s a first
Why people search for someone to take accountability
Finally makes perfect sense to me
It would mean everything
Though I have no expectations
Now that’s truly uncharacteristic of me

Poem: One letter sent, one letter kept (lunar crater) [continued]

Hold myself close
Hold myself close
Favourite Radiohead song for when I’m depleted
Not what I wanted, perhaps what I needed
To relate to how people in certain circumstances feel
I don’t like it
But I’m committed
To better understand the world
I want fresh florals and my favourite perfume
The sunshine is out there for those that feel consumed
By hospital bills and mental notes
It’s precious, our time, so I’d like to enjoy it
But we’ll never move on if we don’t address it
Neither the one affected nor the one who bears it

It’s shared, can’t you see?
I believe in harmony
Have learned I can never convince somebody to promise me
It’s better like that
The effort sure does count
I’m seeing blue
I think of you

Poem: One letter sent, one letter kept (lunar crater) [continued]

I’m in a gown, I’m ready
The water can take me
Reshape me
She only writes this much when her heart is breaking
Turning hobbies into routines
Cut-outs from magazines I’m framing
Made me feel ill, vomit on a television screen
The way you talk to me
It feels so mean
Your absolute favourite colour is also one of mine
Sage green

Don’t be dramatic
It’s just television static
None of it truly qualifies as far-fetched or theatric
You said there’d be plenty of room
For me
In the dusty attic
I looked for my favourite pen and a piece of A4-lined paper
My words had a breathtaking honesty that made me proud of myself
Celestial equator, vintage coffee maker
Elegant movie-maker
Pretty little lunar crater

One letter sent
One letter kept
If things change, it could be a new beginning
If they don’t, I’ll begin anyway
The sunshine is out there
For those that feel like running away
But once the meteorite hits,
A lunar crater forms
Prettiest thing I think I have ever seen
True harmony

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Love poem: Charcoal-stained t-shirts on porcelain skin

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Love poem: Charcoal-stained t-shirts on porcelain skin

To a home I don’t want to come back to
I have been feeling this stifling feeling of wanting to get away, to get away
But I don’t run away from my responsibilities
Something to be proud of
Dad, did you see that, all of these times, from wherever you have been relocated to
If there is a Lord, they are a God—genderless, liquid, solid, vaporous substance
Never parasitic
Always appreciative
Who you are, where you came from
They don’t see that in you
The people in your surroundings, the ones that make such
Wild accusations, to my peril it used to be
Until I found a form of insanity
That blanketed me in a comfort I truly feel is finally real

I must sound crazy to you
All of this I’m so aware of that I think it’s started to crack my skin apart
In tiny little precious spiderwebs
I collect
In a drawer beneath my queen-size bed
I collect all of my tiny, little, precious memories

Love poem: Charcoal-stained t-shirts on porcelain skin (continued)

Have come to realize that being blanketed in softness
Makes life feel finer than operating in a self-isolated cave
But I feel deprived of a human spirit
Perhaps it’s too much for me to think about, yet I still do
It’s not overthinking if I’m hit with the infinite branches of how deeply in love I am with you

Never want what I can’t have
I make my palette worthwhile if I’m going to move at all
It has to be at a target
As of late, it’s been moving at a frightening speed
Take my physics equations and calculate
How I could throw the baseball in such a way that it would land in my teammate’s glove
Belief in others
A steadfast, full-depth, incisive belief in others
Some of which I’ve had to let go personally
But never universally
Everybody deserves to feel half of the things I feel when I’m next to you

Love poem: Charcoal-stained t-shirts on porcelain skin (continued)

Typing this on a plane—carefully arranged composure
Your black Vans
How you don’t crash out when faced with shoelaces
They always end up bound in knots when I go to untie them
Can’t really figure out what’s wrong with me
You fixed it immediately
Fortunately for me, nobody can fix another human being
Finally evaded the line of thinking that the opposite could come true for me

If I am shattered glass, I just want somebody who comes
Prepared
Unafraid
Careful but not conscious
My eyes have started producing tears as of late—the dryness has resolved
I think about how I feel and immediately regain my composure
Charcoal-stained t-shirts from the clearance section
You said they looked good in relation to my skin
If I didn’t know it yet, my goodness, I’d have figured it out right then

Love poem: Charcoal-stained t-shirts on porcelain skin (continued)

Prepared
Unafraid
I know I can handle this
Haven’t felt it in so long
It’s been years since
I have felt
Like crying from joy when seeing a human being that is in my life
Not a musician,
Not a family member that will forever mean the world to me
Just a boy
Wearing black Vans
Shoelaces that perfectly untie
I wish I could watch our entire story on rewind

I won’t get lost this time
Priorities won’t shift
I’ll dance in my bedroom and my lifted pickup truck while I drive
Hug my children (the dogs)
Take care of things I’ve never dealt with for my mother
I’ll be alright
I won’t get lost in time
Wish I could watch our story on rewind
Go back to the very first night
I’d say, hi
Everything would turn out the same in the end
Me, on this plane
Wiping tears away, and you know it’s because I’m writing
Have no clue
Think I’m processing my stress
I’m not stressed about you
I’m miserable to be so happily in love with someone who

I could have been better to.

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Love poem: Grocery store

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Love poem: Grocery store

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

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Love poem: Passenger door // grocery store

distantcaveLeave a comment

Love poem: Passenger door // grocery store

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

Come home and help me with the groceries

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Love poem: Fits me better

distantcaveLeave a comment

Love poem: Fits me better

Listen, I like lifted trucks
Flowers on my doorstep for when you can’t see me in person
And you gave me none of that
None of that
None of that
But I still wanted all of you, like, all of that
So, is it selfish for us to part like dandelions?
I could see it arriving with the wind,
I saw it in my dreams beforehand.

I was tossing and turning; I couldn’t even sleep and knew it was coming through the dark side of my teeth.
And you were waiting at the seams
Trying to break it with scissors, cos you thought that was funny, didn’t you?
A Hyundai ionic waiting in front of my gate,
No, that wasn’t you – I came to you
Take me back to the past, where our promises would last.
And it wasn’t all a lie,
It was your fantasy
It was your fantasy

Love poem: Fits me better [continued]

To be with me,
Your fantasy
To be with me,
Your fantasy
Came crumbling, and I am underneath the Earth’s peripheral atmosphere
To be with me
Your fantasy
I thought I saw you waiting for me, but it was all a bad dream
You were waiting at the seams
With scissors in your hands to cut the ribbon because you thought it was funny.
Cos you thought it was so funny

You took my flesh,
but not my bone.
You sat there with scissors ready to cut a ribbon in front of my white sclera
You took my flesh,
but not my bone.
He sat there with the ribbon ready to cut open my sclera.

Love poem: Fits me better [continued]

Did you want to see the back of my eyeballs because I didn’t expect for myself to fall in love with a fantasy
In love with a fantasy,

Did you wanna see the back of my eyeballs?
I fell in love with a fantasy
That’s all you are to me
Did you wanna see the back of my eyeballs with a ribbon ready to cut my white sclera
Because you somehow thought it was funny

I stole your favourite emoji
Because it fits me better.

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