Author: Jess

we close our eyes
pray for rain in the morning
place our heads on pillows
without feathers, but full of downs
bad dreams, sleepless nights
(toss) toss turn.

we dress in fake smiles
and heavy sarcasm like argyle socks
we fold them down to our ankles
then pull them up to our knees
we cover our thighs ?
Included waistband makes tights.

united we stand, as a group we fall.
laughter of children & creaking of swings
“london bridge is falling down… falling down.”
three part harmony of nightmares
our dream catchers catch the tooth fairy
and we take her tail.

at the end of the conversation
we’re still lost and wandering
we close our eyes
pray for rain in the morning

I can feel the burning,
it’s crawling, itching, stinging
I thought this wanting was waning
but i’m still craving the feeling
of cool metal blades
creating pain that’s like ice
it’s numbing, rushing, soothing.

the flag hangs at half mast
this is tragedy
something about self-confidence
an addiction to sensation
finally, i’m in control
but if this is about control
why does it control me?

it’s falling, flying, dreaming.
I don’t want a grip
or handle on thigns
I don’t want to die
or prove my existence
I don’t want to.
or maybe I do.
It makes me numb.

this feeling is fleeting.
or sometimes i think:
i think that i am empty
like a vase with no flowers
and all of the flowers you sent to me
are dead, in a plastic-bag tomb
with your name on it
misspelled.

when you wrote me all of those letters
you misspelled the meaning of the words
i love you.
i don’t love you.

this feeling is fleeting.
but the tears are not drying
they still fall just as fast
down the highway of my face
and they splatter onto my clothing
like your boy juice
you were never good for me:
just a source of protein
for a girl that didn’t eat meat.

i wonder if she swallows
and if you cum so fast for her.
do you scream her name too?
everyone says you’re so loud.

this feeling is fleeting.
like the scouring pain of a sharp,

who am i that i should be vying for your touch?
-ani

that song always made me think of you
with some sort of disenchanted,
heartbroken grin. it seemed strange
to listen to it with you.
but it all worked out wonderfully.
i heart you.

yeah who am i? i bet you can’t even tell me that much.

i was sitting in your arms
thinking about nothing,
or maybe how nice your hands felt
against my warm skin.
and i looked up from my perch
(underneath the blanket)
to notice a waterfall, cascading through the silent cliffs
crashing down below to mix
with fish and streams and sticks.
i can feel you crashing in to mix
with heartbreaks and smiles and kisses.
please don’t break as waves.

i don’t want predictable,
if i did i’d go back to him
he’d tear me down again and again
like magic i fall from grace
until happy jess is gone without a trace.
maybe i’ve never wanted to float face down.
i fight the bending and the pull.
maybe i never wanted to float at all.
stop this physiological certainty.

suddenly, we all see beauty in everything.
and it’s like a drug to us,
observation of what is, or what could have been.
i don’t want to sit around
and thinking of you like a floating red balloon
that was something i could never quite reach
despite the fact that i was jumping up and down on earth
i don’t want to be grounded.
i want to float too

as your string, take me with you.

when we’re little
we ask with glowing eyes
“how come, how could it be?”
and the lighting bugs dance around us
and we laugh and try to catch them
we put them in jars
and grow civilizations.

but when you get older civilizations crumble.
our glowing eyes are diminished
but the millions of tears that we cry over nothing.
we are cynical and doubting.
and we’re all pitiful.

but some of us our beautiful.
and some of us are idealists.
some of us can’t see past the fact
that i jumped up and down
and danced around the store
because you called me.
i saved the message.

i missed talking to you this summer.
and after only 10 hours without your voice,
at my first available opportunity
i already wanted to call you again.

“i’m finding it harder, to be a gentleman every day.
but if i held the door for you it might make your day..”
-tws

what door do i need to unlock and hold open?

i want to hold you
in my arms while
you cry until your eyes dry.
and i want to run my fingers
across your back
until you’re asleep
i want to lay there
and play with your hair
until you’re nightmares stop.

jen is no good for you
at this point i don’t think she’s good for anyone

i heart you dear.
in that friendship way
and it hurts me to read
about all of your pain.
you just need to be happy
and she can’t do that for you anymore.
reading your words is like watching
a farmer drown kittens in a gunny sack
i can’t stand here silent.

to get back at him,
i might want to pull his skin off of his bones
and set the organs on fire like they’re candles.
i would not want to date his ex-girlfriend’s sister
but i do want to date you. and that’s who you are.
some might say it’s ironic
but it doesn’t seem ironic to me
irony is the opposite of what’s expected
and it could only be expected that i would fall for someone
as beautiful (in so many ways) as you are.