please
‘in you i feel so pretty
in you i taste god.’
turn up the radio,
turn down the lights.
it wasn't all wrong
Our tears fall down our faces
like blood down the walls
of revolutionary buildings
and emotion is an open wound
collapsing inward on our souls
we gloss over our reality
like it’s a cavity
and the drill doesn’t hurt
joy is merely being content
with the stinging pain of history
and our sadness is discomfort
in the face of what takes place
we are empty, bound to histrionics
our hearts break like plexi-glass
triumph is avoiding damnation
stay in good health — don’t die
failure is a beating drum
that succeeds us on our journey
I am the hunter.
You are the deer.
I’m so fucking sorry.
it wasn’t all wrong
Our tears fall down our faces
like blood down the walls
of revolutionary buildings
and emotion is an open wound
collapsing inward on our souls
we gloss over our reality
like it’s a cavity
and the drill doesn’t hurt
joy is merely being content
with the stinging pain of history
and our sadness is discomfort
in the face of what takes place
we are empty, bound to histrionics
our hearts break like plexi-glass
triumph is avoiding damnation
stay in good health — don’t die
failure is a beating drum
that succeeds us on our journey
I am the hunter.
You are the deer.
I’m so fucking sorry.
kiss
i don’t know what to tell you
except that i want you to feel electric too
you tell me it’s not my fault
but it’s always all my fault
and so i cry to the music
and it’s all making me so sick.
i want to feel your arms around me
or have you kiss me again.
but I think I regret it
because you didn’t look happy.
and that’s not what i want.
especially when I thought it felt so right.
distance is terrible
this room seems to expand for miles and miles
to know that you are so close
makes you feel so far away.
and flow sheets and red or black pens
are meaningless as my mind wanders
back to you.
i only got a glimpse.
between round 1 and round 2.
I could see some of your hair
as you were draped over a book
drowning in it somewhere.
i wanted to yell hello
but i was too far away
to tell if it was you
so the next round
you flooded my mind like you had the round before.
the first time i met you i remember shaking your hand
i remember what you were wearing
i remember the food you were eating looked so good
there was something beautiful and/or enchanting
about first greetings in art rooms
and that room isn’t too far away
and the room where you are isn’t too far away
but when i know you’re right there.
i just want to be closer.
the mock turtle
i am alice; you: white rabbit.
i want to follow you
down rabbit holes to tea parties
i want to know
all of your mad hatters
and chesire cats
i want crawl into your smallest hallways
and pay no attention to the awkwardness of dreaming.
come and celebrate this
and all of your unbirthdays with me
i am mock turtle; you: dormouse.
we’re both on trial
for the same thing
the accusations of a girl who isn’t guitly
of anything but deep sleeping.
and dreaming.
we ate the things that say ‘eat me’.
and drank those that demand to drink
maybe that’s the problem all along.
as our bodies grew
to unnatural sizes
we looked for something new
to make the growth stop
we never solve the problem,
just conform to normativity.
merry unbirthday.
i won’t conform for them.
super-stardom
I think I like .boys. better
in pink dresses and heavy makeup
when you hold my hand.
and i can float away
yelling softly at the couch
for it to sit down
so that i can sit down
because i need to feel grounded.
but i don’t want to feel grounded.
I think that your hands are the softest hands
in the history of the world
and i could just hold them forever
and when you walk back to your house,
accented sweetly by the headlights of my car
i smile and say “god, she’s gorgeous.”
it’s like when you’re little
and you’re sad and won’t say it
but the muscles in your face
are forced into a frown that won’t go away
except that I’m sixteen,
and i’m happy and i’ll say it
the muscles in my face are floating into smiles
i’m happy and content
like i haven’t been in years.
i need to be next to you.
if you're breaking
when you close your eyes i feel little bursts of electricity that dance across my nervous system and i wonder if behind your closed eyes you can see pictures of me. or if you’d even want to. i’ll admit that i can’t convince you of my feelings because reality is such a hard thing to be sure of. sometimes love is just a game and we sit all alone on our abandoned beaches and hold our own hands waiting for the tide to come and then it’s there and our feet are wet so we run from it. but it was what we wanted the whole time. if you want me to walk away. i’ll turn my head (teary, of course) and wish that i could make you feel the same way too.. you could put me in a box and throw me out into that ocean so that i could drown in the salt from my own tears. and i would understand i suppose. a proactive reaction to pain that may never occur..
i want to collapse into fits of giggles when i think about you. and sometimes i do. you’re name looks good on paper — like communism. i hope you’re not imperically denied.
tempra
Today i was wafting down the hallway
and a scent wandered my way.
it smelled just like my exboyfriend
so i sped up and got closer
breathing in with my eyes closed
scent is such a beautiful, powerful thing.
i want to know the scent
of being curled up inside of you
i want to know how it smells to be happy.
like soap? or deodorant? or fresh laundry.
i want to know the taste of your kisses
and the feel of your hands
i already love the way it sounds
to hear your voice say “i like you too”
When I was sitting all alone
i wondered what you were doing
right then at that moment,
were you staring at a wall in a kemistry class
were you dreaming silently,
as you journeyed through the pages
in your most recent literary endeavor
you should really read Weetzie Bat
I want you to be My Secret Agent Lover Man
or you could be my Duck
i want to feel your fingers
dance slowly across my neck
iliad and the odyssey
the leaves are crunching under us like our hearts that have been broken too many times in the past. we hum various songs the one in my head right now is by tiffany and we scatter our thoughts in dishevelled patterns, i can see you walking and the tears cascading beautifully around your face. i can never tell if you’re tears are there because you’re happy or sad. you can’t feel it but my heart beats faster when i run, and i sing weezer (heart. beat. heart. beat.). sometimes it feels like panic attacks, but i welcome it with a sense of accomplishment and i know that sometime soon we’ll figure out where we’re going, drop each others hands and fall to the leafy ground in a fit of “looks like we made it.” and we will, we can. together. we can because i want to. because i want to be with you. because i don’t doubt that i like you. and because i feel so comfortable when we’re together.