The things I see, the things I love
Poem: Nothing left
I filed a
Lawsuit
Against the doves in my hallway
Told them they were too
Loving
And now I understand why there’s nothing left
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Love poem: In this form (trembling)
Do I want love to make me feel better
Yeah, maybe that’s true
My hands tremble even when I type
Do I want to show you how good I look in that sweater
Yeah, perhaps that’s true
My voice trembles when I speak out loud
I don’t want to hide my sadness, dark caves, or anxiety
My hands tremble even when I write
I know you don’t want me to be anyone else
But could you want me back
When this is my form
I try more and more every day
To stand tall & make my parents proud
But I miss the mark
Still pour my heart out anyway
Love poem: In this form (trembling) [continued]
Do you want me to be me
When this is my form
Have a hard feeling you’ll be saying goodbye
I’m too aware to not know the reasons why
But isn’t it kind of cute that my hands shake
Even when I am doing nothing at all
We could pick strawberries
When the season arrives
Because even though this is my form
I look so beautiful when I’m pleasantly surprised
Can you think of why
I don’t want you to know me by
My unwashed dishes and unfolded clothes
I just want to make you smile
Love poem: In this form (trembling) [continued]
When this is my form
I just want to help you breathe
I know how to put others first
While also taking care of me
I know you don’t see the Christmas lights
I’ve kept up to bring myself joy
But can you take me in this form
And be the most patient boy
I don’t want to say goodbye
I think only I know the reason why
I won’t say it out loud
Because my voice trembles when I speak
Love poem: In this form (trembling) [continued]
Can I say it anyway
Can I say it soon
Can I say it now
Can I say it at noon
Can I say it anyway
Can I say it at noon
Before you decide
To do what you wanted to do
I think I’ve said it now
Yeah, maybe that’s true
I even got my nails painted
Picked out my outfit for you
I think I’ve said it now
Yeah, maybe that’s true
Can I say it again
Sometime soon
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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: In real time (vast chasm)
Arched back, my universe
A mint sage green to invigorate me since I’m so,
Tired of the way things have been going
Parts of me I loved, not really showing
Vintage glamour too much of an effort; I’m sinking down
I know that I swim very well, so it’s not sensible to drown
But I have this one thought I want to get rid of
That maybe it’s peaceful down there
I know I can bring to this valley some flowers
But what if the prettiest ones are underground
I’m scared of this one thought I pretend not to have
That maybe I can take something and finally find out
I’m scared of this one thought I have
I simultaneously do and don’t want to be
Wondering if people in other vehicles on the freeway can see me crying.
The depth of the city
Pale bloom mid-toned grey, avalanche of a highway
Miles per hour in the hundreds – this is my place
It’s my crisp green apple
So why am I disconsolate in lowercase
Feeding into a winter sunrise that falls on me like a torrential downpour
Poem, continued: In real time (vast chasm)
Your brown eyes, they see something in me
Oh, I believe it
But I know I need to see something too
I’m scared of this one thought I have
That perhaps this book is becoming too long
I have all these notebooks
I’ve never written in
I have all these contacts
That I just delete
The sun hits me hard and the skies wake me up, but the noise is like tar and I do love the black
But the panic attacks
The heirloom pink that fades so fast
When I eventually fall asleep
Time and space not linked, so casually on the brink
Of falling in
Poem, continued: In real time (vast chasm)
Don’t want to be someone
That is too tired to make their own cup of
Coffee
Don’t feel I need someone
Halfway think I don’t deserve it
It feels so unconventional but on-purpose
Like a car that refuses to accept gasoline
I have a fence
That grows taller around me
I spin in circles
But not to break free
If someone saw this
They’d conclude I was insane
But I am clearing cobwebs
From my own brain
Poem, continued: In real time (vast chasm)
Arched back, my universe
Anabolism and violent television shows that I don’t watch
Avoiding mass speculation and trembling violations
My white chair that faces two separate vases of flowers
I love it here
And I can’t bare to hate anything at all
Except being
Unable
To make
A cup of coffee
In real time
I am surprised
That I
Can write
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