cantaloupevodka asked: Your writing is amazing.
Thank you so much; your kind words mean quite a lot to me! :)
lovelittlemel asked: I honestly love all your poems. They give me chills, each and every one of them. Makes me want to start writing again! :)
Thank you very much, it truly means so much when I read these kind words :) You should start writing again! And then never stop.
“I had always thought
that we would have had great sex.”
Was the last thing you said.
You hit me one time
And that was more than enough
To dump you. You cried.
I still can’t believe
You cheated on me with Claire.
But I’m glad you did.
If you had loved me
Half as much as you loved her
I would have loved you.
Instead of telling you I love you,
I’ll make a pot of tea and read a book with
such big words I barely understand but
pretending I know them is better than
you knowing the truth
The colors in his eyes are enough
Waking up at the crack of dawn
as if he might disappear before my very eyes then
pretend to be dreaming when he wakes
She had just turned sixteen
(when he asked her to a movie)
he was popular, athletic
(she said, yes)
his arm snaked around her
Her heart beat fast
(she thought this was love)
Later, in the car, he kissed her, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth.
He shoved his hand down her skirt and she moaned
(she had read about that in a magazine)
But when she felt his fingers,
she only thought of the way he licked
the salt and butter off them during the movie
and she wished
she had stayed home
sunbeams light up the world
a thousand stars staring stately
(no fear of reaction)
BURNING in the sky
A hundred suns and saints and nuns
(wait and wither)
to be or not, afraid of His gift.
it is useless to be arrogant; one
is always knocked down.
Are you great? (yes) NO
You are minuscule, an
eraser shaving upon a child’s desk,
useful once, then, having done your job,
(but what job is that?)
you shall disappear into the infinites of the Earth,
never thought of again.
The first time we kissed, I initiated it. You were nervous (I think) And I…. I wanted you, So badly. To hold your hand, To feel your heart beat, To touch your lips with mine. I hadn’t kissed in over six months. You, that is. I lost count; a blur of lips, and tastes, and people who never mattered even then in a fruitless attempt to find a pair that rivaled yours. About four days ago, you Reappeared. The second time we kissed, you initiated it. And, It. Was. Wonderful. In the morning, you asked if it was alright, could you kiss me again What I said, was yes. But what I meant, was that in that moment, in that second kiss, I realized that yours are the only lips I could ever want for the rest of forever.
dreaming of lives i could have had
but remind me of my failures.
yet if i could change it all back…
where would i be now?
floating on a cloud far above
the perennials of mother’s garden
there are no regrets
writing becomes a matter of
life and death
when nothing else fills
the emptiness in your soul
Love, to me, is the taste of Marlboro
(gold, not red)
The smell of cigarettes in the
moonlit car ride home.
Love, to me, is innocence
lost in a grassy knoll; right off
4th street and Main.
Sticky ice cream cones;
they’re a dollar in July.
Love, to me, is the waves of the lake
lapping against your bare feet in the sand.
But mostly, it’s
That feeling of infinity
just before you walk inside your house