Tag: Love

Poem: White dwarf star

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Poem: White dwarf star

I know I’m not that confident, but I am kind
I feel like I’m dragging my steps and leaving no trace behind
And the work is real hard, it’s that nonstop grind
Makes you bite your nails all the time

And I can’t fit the frame of reference
How you said you were desperate
But when you sucked your chest in
You terrified me to pieces
The kind of ache you bring me bites like leeches
All I want in this world is to lie with you on all the beaches
You release anesthetic, but you still make me bleed
Your love and your reign are all I really need
To make me complete

Washed blood
Criminal state-of-mind
Collecting contraceptives
Cold, hard cement
Warm, worn work boots
Unstable supply of mixed substances

I tell you to swallow, and you look straight in my eyes
It’s like you’re falling in love for the very first time
And I’m trying not to look directly at you as I say, you’re just not the guy
I tell you to swallow, and you look straight in my eyes
Bittersweet candy droplets, like I could die
In this dead world, there is nowhere left to hide
When my body is old and sick, will you lay by my bedside?

I don’t want to make this too long
I’m too smart, I know you won’t read it
No matter how much God knows you need it
If only for the chance that you might feel it

You know, you’re delusional
And I know I can be confusing
But you’re too jaded to find my ill-equipped candor amusing
You run your fingers through your hair like there’s salt in the air
And I try not to stare
You know, you’re delusional
And I know I can be confusing
But the gig is up, and I know that you’ve been using
In your tangled cobweb, I remain the bug that is losing

Not to make this too long
The film isn’t developed
The roses haven’t bloomed
I’m staring back at you, but it’s so empty in this room
I feel the walls enveloping me in dark, chaotic doom
And I can’t resist
You need to hear this
No matter how much your better self knows you need it
If only for the chance that you might feel it
The endurance of my love for all the havoc that you are
The way it covers me like starving, hot tar
When I was on the porch watching you pour gasoline on my car
And I thought to myself

He looks so beautiful from afar
I bet he’ll go to heaven, where the beautiful ones are
He’s not made of debris
He’s so strong and carefree
He’s butterflies and lightning trapped in a mason jar

And I’m falling in and out of love every day
And it feels so bizarre
All that I encompass and view myself as is his white dwarf star
Dead from the beginning
A stellar remnant in this regard
Without the nuclear coalescence, I am just scraping by

When I was on the porch watching you pour gasoline on my car
And I thought to myself
He’s so strong and carefree
He’s butterflies and lightning trapped in a mason jar
And I’m a black hole of a figurine
In this dead world, there is nowhere left to hide
When my body is old and sick, will you lay by my bedside?

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Poem: My boyfriends are always musicians

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Poem: My boyfriends are always musicians

I want another musician boyfriend
In the wind, in the mountains that fumble over each other
Like blue ice cream, and you’re drinking the most sour lemonade
I remember being in the fifth grade
I remember when you and I were on the same page

You tell me I’m pretty
I say, let’s get out of this city
I want the thrill and the madness
Chicago winters when I was the baddest
And I kept thinking, I have this
I kept thinking, I have this
I kept-

I have nothing to talk about now that he stopped talking to himself
Turned the act around, got out of town
And he was gone like that
I wish I could say it was in the summer, but he said that he still loved her
And my aloe vera plant died like three times that week

My best friend thinks I’m weak
I can tell because I think she’s too afraid of getting closer to me
Which as a walking human charade I can see where there’s disinterest in the grand scheme of things
I knew it was in the library that I lost my opal ring
That was the day Rachel wore that blue shirt
She looked so good that it hurt
I’ve thought of every way this could go, and I’m just out of step
So if you asked me what I need, I’d say it’s out of my grasp
But I’m pretty on the inside
I don’t collapse like that
I run, and I fetch, but I don’t bring it back
I only execute what is carefully planned
I miss the warm days of playing around in the sand
I miss when you wrote songs about me with your little boy band
I miss you reaching for my hand

And if you asked me if I would use pretense to get to where I want to be
I would take that high jump
I would be out there too

But there are things to think forth to, like Russia and France
No last line
No valentine
No hopes this time

I’m renovating my life into something brand new
It’s the only thing that’ll motivate you
To depart from this sick, sad, bleached residue
All I think about is you
All I think about is you
All I think about is you
All I think about is you

Remember, standing on the balcony
Drinking Mountain Dew
I never considered falling out of love with you
They said when you break up, it’s just something you do

I must be screwed up beyond repair
He was having an affair
And all I could do was stare

It was almost like she was here, and I was there

No last line
No valentine
No hopes this time

All I think about is you
All I think about is you
All I think about is you
All I think about is you
And all I could do was stare

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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”

Poem: Anhedonia & daffodils

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I don’t want to write all of these really dark things
It’s just what the anhedonia and isolation brings
I want to be with the daffodils
I want to cry from laughter
I want to bear children
I want to be graceful & filled with poise
But the things that bother me are making so much noise

Glendale Blvd and Union Ave
I read a nice greeting card and thought of you
But you didn’t like my personalized gift
It took weeks to produce
I’m wandering through the aisles of the grocery store picking up fruit
Putting it in my basket to look like I embrace my womanhood
Like my mother thinks I should

Alameda avenue
I’ll walk all over you
Two cigarettes in my hand as I’m walking to Grand
I want to observe the skyscrapers at night
The people that work late
The buildings that keep their lights on
Sometimes the poems I write for you, I sing like a song
I get to thinking that I wish we could just get along
I wish we could just get along

Hoping the rain comes soon so it can hold me
How come when you found out you never told me
I look like I’m texting, but I’m really writing a prologue
To a film I want to make in a silver-blue nightgown
Baby, how do I make that sound

I want to be beautiful in their eyes
But when I’m not, it’s no surprise
I sometimes wonder if I’d prefer the lies
I’d reach out and touch them through their disguise

Come down to downtown with me to find the daffodils
Understand that I’m an addict when I take my pills
Honey, I’m just trying
Honey, I’m just trying
Honey

I’m just trying

Poem: Elysian space dust IPA

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Peony photograph by Elle ©