There, concrete bridge Throwing up like a landmine Shocked to the brim Might let you in
You—there for “support” Always following me Wherever I turn up Scared for me Budget B-movies Film star queen The things in-between Get me out of this serene dream
Poem: 77 in [continued]
Them, rotten toys Making all of this devouring noise Unedited, spherical bends of water Shriveling cold beats Turn up the heat To do away with, that’s a fact Or a vision—to destroy Our friends we’ll employ If we have any left by then
You, not forgotten in the least Leather jacket, cold-hearted beast Pockets so deep I put my hand inside And I leave it inside It’s comfort I find Ask how many inches tall you are No matter the answer, it’s still up far But with my hand in your pocket, I smile That little girl smile, you know It’s comfort I find, you know
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 want him to love me for my bad reputation Lilacs and daisies, And we don’t even have to have those kinds of conversations. Like who do you think you are all the time misbehaving? But I’m just a little doll in a lace dress, Can’t you see how much joy I’ve been faking?
My garden is so pretty My kitchen is pristine New tiles on the bathroom floor to feel Victorian, And I know that my cursive is quite Gregorian. You vomit all over my love letters because it’s too much for you. And maybe that’s why we’re not so–
Made for each other, Perfect synchronous lovers. I’m embarrassed to say I think about it every day. Do you think you want more from me? I’m already overflowing- a coffee cup that forms bubbles and bleeds I want you to buy me flowers most of all And I worry this is the only thing I ever think about And do I worry that I’m not enough for you?
Poem: Baddd girlfrienddd (continued)
All the opposite, Your grey hairs in such ethereal hues I think I’m way too much for you. A silver plate and French dessert, picking off the residue, I swear, in another lifetime, I was also deeply in love with you
But I am a crazy girl, I am truly wild. Everywhere that I go, they collect some kind of files They say the weirdest things about me, and it’s never made sense. I wanted to be the most trustworthy person, But I’m not very good at making friends.
And this makes me sad. And I want you to help me not feel bad. But if that’s too much for you, Then that makes my suspicions true.
Poem: Baddd girlfrienddd (continued)
I am so used to being too much, But never enough Never enough. I am so used to being far too much, But never enough Never enough.
My hair is gently tied with a beautiful pink ribbon He thinks that I did things that I didn’t. I’ve always wanted to be someone that people could trust But if I cleaned a window, He would still just see arachnids and dust
And that was a bad line; I’m not a very good poet. It’s one of my insecurities, Though I hope I don’t show it. But this is a mess, The fabric between our asymmetrical beds. I don’t even know where I feel the best laying my head. I have duvet covers in different area codes and these apartments that don’t even belong to me But I wanna belong to somebody And I want them to take care of me. And I want them to not be so scared of me.
Poem: Baddd girlfrienddd (continued)
So now I’m crying on the freeway, writing this using voice-to-text And I think I’m beautiful, but well aware that he’ll forget And I wanna be taken care of properly, like my dad would admire And I want to be given flowers, like my mother would appreciate
But I am the common denominator, The problem at hand. And I just want somebody who can understand That I wanna be trustworthy to the point where you believe I didn’t do it So, if I set this place on fire, Are you gonna give me a hard time about it? Or try your best to see me get through it
Poem: Baddd girlfrienddd (continued)
Watch me Dancing Laughing Crying Soaking Rainfall Open Windshield Broken I fell in love with you three times I sat and sobbed in the shower, thirty-nine
Or are you going to laugh with me? Because it is inherently funny That we carved this life together
I’m aware I appear as a rotten tomato that ruins the rest of the vine, But someday someone will trust that I’m good on the inside
Suddenly The impetus is on me To be perfect, so perfect, for you again Satin & lavender bedsheets Fresh clothes from the dryer Neurons that synapse when the clock resets
But I can’t Withstand Dissonance I can’t Bear to Live with regret I can’t Break free from This tangled fishnet The wire digging its claws directly into my spine
Disengagement when separated Disregarded how you said maybe Perhaps it’s my own agenda that I failed to write out in black ink My own handwriting looks foreign to me The flowers in my apartment have finished dying I closed the curtains, but someone is waiting To see me burn out like I’ve been on fire this whole time
Carving my name into my solitude Changing the location of a confined venue I don’t like this dress Don’t like how I look in it Want you to tell me I inspire you to stop playing make-believe Wish you would bring me roses & be gentle with me Not let me lose any more sleep
I’m not really writing I’m scared of defining How lazy I’ve gotten at building my self-esteem The ships are all sinking The pilot keeps blinking & the leftovers have spoiled because real things are only real in real time
So I hit “unsend” Spend the afternoon in my garden Playing with my own hair, saying your name to myself
I can’t even ask you What you meant when you said nothing Because I know myself to get in the way of what could be
I’ll trace my ashes In long cylinder glasses Faking a proof-of-concept of a girl who takes pride in the way she carries herself
Now I’m scared of writing Because I don’t like what I see And that holds far too much meaning to me
I’m sick of trying To act like I haven’t been Crying myself to sleep
Tell me I’m perfect Say that you missed me Step into my four-chambered studio where the pianos lack keys & the guitars have no strings We can dissolve into anything we want life to be
Tell me you missed me Without lying to me Tell me I’m perfect Because you can see how I dream Tell me you loved how I didn’t seem desperate To find in my own self what you’ve found in yours
I’ll rearrange my bedroom Work on shifting my patterns So that the stillness in your settings can bleed into me
Tell me I’m perfect Without lying to me Reach for me when I’m drowning In my make-believe sea Allow me to realize there’s more to let go of More in life to make sense of More in this life to see
When you’ve regained stability Found blue-green lakes filled with clarity Then, you can come back to me
I’ll be in my garden Telling myself That I don’t have to be perfect to be something real
