Poem: Twirling in my nightgown

Poem: Twirling in my nightgown

Ivory evening gown, parchment paper thick
I had all my notebooks – there, sprawled out
You took the venom out of me
Inhaled it so smoothly
Inhabited your own internal cavity void
I said, hello
I thought that, we were having fun?
You were collecting the ends of my smoked cigarettes
Cos you like the tar
Cos you like that, that’s all you are
Spinning in a web not suited for your own self-depreciating destruction
I was on holiday

Although, I do, admit
I get a little bit obsessed
Stepping out into the rain & noticing all the new cobwebs
You’re so, calculated, in a way that’s so mean
Worst part is you believe in being a human being
Arrogant honey, how do you get it so wrong
Can you see me twirling in my nightgown
I light up the city streets with the way I get down
Uninvited from the palace
My darling, take your coat

Poem: Twirling in my nightgown (continued)

I swim in baby blues; I sing in the shower real loud
Monday morning, skin is pale, I am ready for everything
It tires you to pieces,
Tears you to shreds
The way you’d play your electric guitar &
I noticed it was the exact same sound
Repeating
Unchanging
Have I ever been so bored with regret
I thought you and I would be perfect in a garden shed

But by the time we got there, all the flowers were dead.

Poem: Twirling in my nightgown (continued)

I thought, sweet honey, how are you so in tune with
Things that don’t make sense to anyone else
But so out of touch
With reality,
And a girl who’s made of real flesh
I said, pretty baby, you’re made of pure mercury
I’ve never seen your ribcage
Not the way your back muscles look
Which is fine, too
No photographs to collect in my scrapbook
My stark cold baby, how can you be so obscene

Trying to get in and out of escaping everything.

Poem: Twirling in my nightgown (continued)

I’d put out my cigarettes on your balcony
And you’d save them in a crystal jar
Are they still there, pretty baby
I’d take you back if you had been more nice to me

Asphalt and a flourishing society
My marine ecosystem is too vast for you
Stay where you’re safe
Sweet baby, don’t drown

I both found and left you in the lost & found
Twirling in my nightgown

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Poem: Anarchy is fun; you should try it

Poem: Anarchy is fun; you should try it

I am like Thumbelina
But I don’t quite fit anywhere
Two devout Russian Orthodox women are going to a NATO-ruled country to buy the world’s finest, pristine porcelain to throw it at indoor walls

The best poison was made
In my father’s grave
And I love him for forever hating the country I live in

Love poem: Ivory white, dark pants

Love poem: Ivory white, dark pants

Soft shoulder of the exit ramp
Sweet cream silk, ivory white velvet dream
Sitting and smoking with you on the fire escape
We look at the horizon
Our eyes like they’ve been set on fire
Keeping quiet to not create commotion on the 18th floor

Move lightly like a ghost
That haunts me the most
Pure daylight, fresh berries, blueberry soy milkshake for two
Freeze me in the frozen section
I will come back alive
To haunt you like in the horror thrillers they do

My voice gets high-pitched
When I talk to you on the telephone
In the evenings

My voice gets high-pitched
Cos I’m excited when you call me on the telephone
In the evenings

Love poem: Ivory white, dark pants (continued)

Sweet cream silk, ivory white velvet dream
Pour raspberry sauce on vegan soy ice cream
I have you, in a soft yellow light
I wouldn’t find hospitable for my academia
Though, your brown eyes, light up like fresh veins
And I take hold of your upright shoulders

On purpose
By habit
A fragrant
Flower
My doorstep
Your dark pants

Love poem: Ivory white, dark pants (continued)

Sweet cream silk sweater for your ivory white velvet dream
We move like feathers, but our names have been etched into stone
First, middle, and last
First, middle, and last
Holding my breath
Writing on your cast

First, middle, and last
The most perfect fire escape
I’d smoke next to you every day

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Love poem: Fell back in love with me

Love poem: Fell back in love with myself

I am, a dandelion that’s losing its ligules
A dandelion on the street
Stepped on, on repeat – bracing the wind, but falling apart
Missing my roots
Crying because I won’t be in a vehicle with my father ever again
But the koala-grey sidewalk embraces me like its only friend

Gasping, breaking, compact but fragile – for eternity
Not asking anyone to save me
Because rap songs taught me that’s commonly dismissed
Neglected and disposed of
(Why am I so delicate?)
I breathe it and I love it, but God please help me, I’m exasperated
I wear my orthodox cross like it’s the most expensive diamond given to a queen
Nobody ever suspects a thing

Love poem: Fell back in love with myself (continued)

A guy once bought me, the most beautiful fiddle leaf fig tree
That I picked out, of course
Girl knows her houseplants
My bedroom lacked the sunshine to keep my baby alive
I wept on the floor staring at its fallen brown pieces
Feeling like I was one of them
Breaking for eternity
Shrivelling up and no longer green, but serene
I swallow the ground whole with my desire to love more than I ever have before
Time, and time, again.

You know, a girl, who truly loves flowers
Never “gets used” to receiving them
Each time is special, savoured, like those commercials with women and chocolate
I stop walking every few feet to capture a flower
One day, a boy said to me, “do you have to stop every time”
That was the end of him and I
Of course, I do
That’s what happens when you’re in love with white, pink, red, yellow, and blue
The colours dash through your mind when you’re not scrolling on your phone
Remembering the hydrangeas from Venice Beach
The sunset blooms at the rose garden at the museum where you spent your birthday in your own solid company
Breaking in composite structures
Swallowing the rose petals on the ground

Love poem: Fell back in love with myself (continued)

The dandelions on the street
Say something on repeat

They love me, they live through me
They engulf quite the vast part of me
And every piece of their frail self that flies away with the breeze
Becomes deeply embedded within me
And I love it, like cotton
I roll it, like marbles
If I’m ever, forgotten

I hope botany never is

Love poem: Fell back in love with myself (continued)

I know a girl
That will never “get used” to flowers
So endlessly abundant but single-handedly make this life worth it

They love me, they love me
They live right through me
I walk on the concrete
Looking for myself

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Not a love poem: Olive tree (take your pick)

Not a love poem: Olive tree (take your pick)

I think we’re
Not getting too wrapped up
I’ll get up soon
To turn the microwave off

I think we’re
Naturally not too wrapped up
I’ll get up later
To turn the microwave off

I scratched my leg violently on rose thorns
As if I would ever mind
It’s been a long time since
Brown eyes, green eyes
I hate when they turn hazel
Like an olive tree
Park my car on Chestnut avenue
It’s a longer walk but
I like the name
Burn it to see embers
Collect street signs
All the rose thorns in the world are allowed to scratch me
In fact, I’ll invite them with bliss
Using long, Bambi eyelashes

Not a love poem: Olive tree (take your pick) [continued]

I think you would be
Friends with the quarterback
I never cared about football
We could make fun of
The way they drop the ball
(Again!)
Wearing their jerseys’ cos we like the material
So supportive
What a team effort
I clench my hands together because otherwise I think I’m going to lose my mind

I never really understood the concept of romance
Is it you buying me a vegan strawberry milkshake?
Dirt on my face at the park and you think I look pretty?
I have thousands of songs I’ve been dying to share
With somebody
They mean
Too much to me
To share, though
So I’ll
Keep them to myself
Out of bad habit
I’m the bad habit

Not a love poem: Olive tree (take your pick)[continued]

Show up late and get there just on time
I wouldn’t get through security clearance with that
Type of ambivalence I could
Make a rosebud dream
Of grabbing me from the interior and
Turning me inside out
So the world could know
I wouldn’t get through security clearance like this

Not a love poem: Olive tree (take your pick) [continued]

What’s that?
Is that romance
You getting me a vegan strawberry milkshake?
That I put in the fridge
To enjoy my second half the very next day
Laughing to myself
Sharp edges soften
My shampoo smells lovely
I can’t get through security clearance like this

An olive tree
Okay, I’ll be an olive tree
If you pick me
Okay,
I’ll be an olive tree
If you choose me

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