Tag: romantic aesthetic

Love poem: Angelic spine

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Love poem: Angelic spine

Angelic
Vicious
Future physician
Painting spiderwebs in your kitchen
Emotionally flat
But so consistent
Best of the best
Couldn’t get any better than you wished it

When you’re with me, you’re possessed
And I’m not afraid of becoming obsessive
Lip gloss all over the glass
You’re calling my landline
Cos I’ve given you enough incentive
Now you’re touching my spine
Noticing where the bones don’t really make sense
And we laugh like the weight of a crowd
Blanket over our eyes, not making a sound.

Love poem: Angelic spine [continued]

You were born in the same month
As my father
And I’m kind of sick of
Not being your official lover

Angelic
Vicious
Future physician
Eating vegan lentil soup you made for me in your kitchen
I love your five cats
And your cynical wisdom
And when I look up to you,
I see the sky as well
Blanketing you in confetti
Astral projections and snow that falls heavy
I’m taking my time; we’re going steady
Fragrant lullabies pass the time
I don’t care, and I don’t mind

But I paint spiderwebs in your kitchen to trap you
Right there
So that when I come to feed
You’ll be blissfully spared

Angelic and vicious
I mean, who am I kidding
I love your five cats
And your cynical wisdom

How you always kiss me first

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Love poem: Sun-kissed

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Love poem: Sun-kissed

Everything is sun-kissed because there’s a glow in the sky
Cos I don’t have the patience to write an entire album about just one guy
Can you feel me clinging to your new clothes?
Before you insert yourself inside of them
Taint the black
Tar-boiled trap
Tell me you like the sound of my name
Lie to me all over again
I ain’t writing an album about just one guy
Held in importance but forgotten in spirit
I’ve got to keep living

Aren’t you getting emotional?
About it

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Free verse poem: Things I’ve found out (the right season)

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Things I’ve found out (the right season)

a free verse poem about finding stability & self-acceptance

I know
That things won’t work out as planned
I know that
Because my mother taught me how to be a man
But there are
Parts of me that won’t let someone hold my hand
Because I
Because I
Find graveyards appealing
Harsh winter thunderstorms healing
And the chaos within you is quite often revealing
Of the doom and dismay your surroundings convey
The filth
The agony
The dreams others built for you become destroyed
I’m my own person

But when I drive home at night
I don’t feel alone
I just know I am

It was cold in Chicago
And I wanted to lay down
In the snow
My frail body
Seldom appears melancholy
Singing you songs, breathlessly, to you in your sleep
Though my voice is never the right pitch
Maybe that’s why I wait
Until you hit your steady dream state
An abyss of perpetual ignorance to moral obligations

The impatience
Is testing me
Like a ticking clock
Telling me
I
Haven’t painted
The sky quite right
Haven’t gotten the stars
To my audience’s delight
And I think
I might combust
From the tainted, porcelain figure I often wish to set on fire
Because what burns
Feels so warm
In winter

It’s almost
February
The anniversary of
A thousand slumbers
A rainfall that struck me like
Lightning on the fast lane on the highway
Swerving between cars with my eyes closed
Thinking I’m oh – I’m just so composed
But me, parchment paper thick, practically comatose
Wouldn’t keep anyone up at night
When you haven’t
Made a name
For yourself
And nobody
Gets the intonation
In your full name quite right
Maybe it’s not
The right time
To say

That what burns feels so warm
In winter
My god
The shades of blue
How I’d devour the skyline
Like an arsonist,
I fade to grey
Along with the trembling cityscape

I encapsulate all the seasons & am easily forgotten

I only hope to properly portray
The vacancy light in this hotel I occupy

Me,
Against the wall
Cold, doll-like, confused
Fingertips
Painted the lightest shade of pink that the nail salon could offer me
If only,
I could be elegant
I could like parts of myself that others don’t
I could live my life like
My father envisioned

When he said to me

That I was born
In the perfect season
For a girl who prolongs
Finding a reason
To burn this place down to the ground

Hollow
Cave
Where my old journals remain
Where ex-boyfriends mispronounce my last name
They never remember the best parts of you
They never really knew
How to get through
How your eyes turn dark green when your favourite song comes on
Or when the colour temperature is five thousand Kelvin and
I feel ashamed
That I woke up to find
Myself
Not in embers
But filling a body
With wholeness that only

Real self-acceptance could develop and create

Something permanent
Is never
Found

I’m no good with directions but I don’t believe I’m lost
I’m exactly
On my own two feet
Waiting
To leave a message after the beep

But I hang up, because I remember
They can’t pronounce my last name
The intonation
Is weak
And I
Am so
Much farther than I thought I would be
At this time of my life
Are you, at all, surprised?

When I look
At the cars
Passing me by
On the highway,
I wonder
If they’re going
Somewhere warm and inviting

I don’t know why
That
To me
Feels so terribly frightening

Like a cradle filled with endless lightning

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