Category: poetry

carpe diem

and every content sigh which escapes my lips-
let it be betrothed
to an excuse for my behavior
as your hands graze my hips,
let it be known
that i know i am replaceable,
but if it’s in the moment-

yes- in every moment of
every half-awake hour of
each of those five nights since that
fateful friday when i first slept in your bed-
or, rather- laid rather quietly
as we made eye contact
and you asked permission
to hold me close, and you roamed,
warmed me with breath and hands and alcohol
but never bothered to venture to my lips-

in every moment-
if this is what this is-
if this is living in the moment,
with no need for anchors or consequence,
then do not let me be forgiven
for my lust and for my loneliness
but for now, accept the upcoming apology
which will spill from yearning lips
let me say
that i know you don’t mean it
like i wish you did
and yet i lie here,
in my near-guilt, with you anyways

–

written f22feb2013.

(the funny thing is, he did mean it like i wished he did- but i didn’t find that out until it was too late.)

–

“you’ve been in my head since the poetry slam”

it’s strange
the way brain waves
can roll up
onto someone else’s beaches
and still feel at home
like the tide-pool-rejects
were all they’d ever known
like the nervous tics beached on the sand
were once their own

as if we had shared roots
at some point but branched off
i see patterns in you
which i thought were mine alone
geographically isolated, we still situated
ourselves into the same niche
brought thought processes
up from where
they were etched into our bones

perhaps we’re the same species-
mine a shade stranger than yours
but still with similar history

you said i’d been in your head
since that night we tried to talk
i stumbled over my words
and you said you thought better on paper

you said i knew your thought process
but how you phrased it made it
sound like i’d been on your mind

well, you’ve been on mine

–

written w20feb2013.

–

“trust-me” twentyone

you said you had never
seen a girl who could drink
vodka straight from the
cheap plastic bottle
its slow burn cauterizing
my mental wounds
allowing me to feel
comfortable about my
self, my body
entwined in sticky arms
under
the covers

and i said
i was not as green
as my missing four years
would encolor me
flushing my cheeks-
bare, words bare-boned
on your bare chest
fingers weaving
reassurances
through firey hair

but what i kept
close, behind closed
chapped lips
forbid to let slip
from cigarette-
burned lungs
was that never
had i ever
been nestled
so
close
to another fledgling
and yet
it felt
so natural to me

–

written a9feb2013.

–

they call it getting shit-faced because we’re all ugly when we can’t keep our secrets

let it slip-
just for a moment-
that silky silver sliver
with the scarlet bite
take the plunge for once,
cause you’ve been longing to fall
all night.

let it slip-
the sober-golden
golden-boy facade you like
to wear so well,
spill your muddy secrets
for the crimson crowd-
put on the death-shroud.

trace the skin-
like eggshell,
toughened from times before
when the yolk spilt
then split the cells
apart, view the vivacity
somehow still flowing
from your hardened heart.

remember what
it was like to feel,
before the pursuit of perfection
hollowed out your bones
spill your own blood
and take relief
in the quiet,
where no one knows.

–

written m7jan2013.

i’m pretty proud of how even the meter is with this one.

–

as requested- an introduction with no nonsense

let me call my own bluff,
tell you about every time
i thought i’d rather not be alive
i’ll show the stories i’ve spun
upon my gossamer wrists-
if you’d truly like to hear it,
i’ll grin and bear it.

before i bare arms,
let me warn you,
i was taught to bear arms,
bristle at the slightest touch
drive the hurt away
before it happened

i was raised in a world of strength
told to never remove my mask
oh, i must confess-
i never learned how to express
myself in the proper way

i cursed myself
with this addiction; i was the one
who initiated this affliction,
pulled this mirror across my skin
to reflect the madness within
and i will not blame
anyone but myself
for the creation of
my invisible hell

even fire cannot burn through
this stony expression
i understand that you can’t imagine
what hatred lies within
i look so normal, oh,
so high-functioning
but behind this wall, it’s agonizing.

i don’t wish to brag,
but i don’t even know
how i’ve survived the onslaught
of self-hate, years-long
i deny the existence of the talent
you say i possess, no,
i don’t believe your compliments

and if you want to know
how i’ve always felt-
well, here it is,
woven into the ribbons on my wrists
my barcode arms
remind me
that i’m lucky
just to have you stick around.

–

written t18dec2012.

during an all-night study session, my poetfriend josh dared me to write an incredibly honest introspective poem, one which would show others why i was the way i was. it ended up kind of sloppy, but he liked it: “i think if anyone is ever confused, and you trust to let them in , show them this piece of art and they will understand.”

well, i guess i trust everyone enough to let them in now. if someone wants to judge me for my past issues, i’ll let ’em. i don’t care what other people think of me.

also: don’t worry, guys; i’m doing ten times better than i was back then, and i kicked that habit a long time ago.

–

i wanna be sedated

the night flies
on stumbling butterfly wings and
our staggering conversation
half-lost in translation
and uncoordinated scribbling
still glows in my foggy mind

you’re gorgeous
when my eyes are closed enough
to see the beauty in everyone
you’re gorgeous
when your sunshined hair sticks up
when your inner poet
is allowed out to play
when you can spin sentences
like silk, to warm my cheeks
with unwarranted compliments
based on little evidence

our loose lips
sink shots, spill sorrow
we feel better for it
upon sharing, we find
a sense of belonging
there’s nothing
which forms a stronger bond
than human suffering

we are gorgeous
if only for the glory of being human
and for being strong enough
to share the pain within

for being someone
to share a friday night with
in deep discussion
i thank you
you can thank me later
for bringing you the booze
and next time
i’ll bring poetry too

–

written m10dec2012.

the ramones’ “i wanna be sedated” https://youtu.be/ZLlLtSG7xe4 was the song i was listening to the first night i ever got drunk. screwdrivers. it was a nice night.

–

poetically pathetic

let’s make a deal.
uncap the bottle,
discover my greatest work-
a soliloquy on sentience,
performed to an empty room.
the walls
are bleeding lead poisoning again
and i
am leaving logic behind.

 
the air is crisp on my wretched skin
and as the world dies
its aching breath helps me
to finally feel alive.
i am pure white.

let me rise, enlightened.
as i float, breathless,
i can feel, finally,
the weight of my bones.
make me into a sparrow,
feast upon my marrow,
so i can become porous-
but leave my hollow mind whole.

idolize me.
spin my disease into pure beauty.
a stone-cold rose
grounds the coffin for my dreams,
liberating me from responsibility.
awaken me.
strip my heavy corpse of its wings,
eviscerate the breath from my lungs
cease my tangibility

 
oh glory,
build me up
strip me down
to my knuckles and teeth,
to the weathered bone.
remove the bloodstains from my home.

if i bleed now
it will be beautiful
when i fall, i
will glorify the cement, decorate it
with my shining insides
when i come down
it will be stunning
it will be dreadful
and i will be resplendent

 
-but the delivery
won’t change the content
candy wrapping
can’t cover up the stench of death-

i have given up
on purging the necrosis from my tissue
i have found
this tantalizing muse once again, and
once more i
will let her put cigarettes out
on my sorry skin.

i’ve grown to love the smell,
that acrid poison
it almost covers up the scars
she leaves-

if i can make dying sound beautiful
then to hell
with us all
if you could romanticise suicide
you’d be rotting
too

–

written m12nov2012.

another broke starving writers club creation, spurred by incredible amounts of caffeine. reading this one always transports me back in time, to walking between classes during snowfall. everything so exhilaratingly cold and crisp and pure.

–

4/04: error: page not found

i was reborn, like a phoenix
but without all the glory.
i didn’t set the hospital on fire; i struggled
to pull myself from the ashes
of a former prodigy,
one entwined with madness
in all the right ways
laced with misery like a noir heroine,
so sexily depressing-
whereas now i am just empty

i did not emerge unscathed, no,
not like the fledgling, i
am covered in scars and faultlines from where
the sorrow tried rip itself
from my sorry body
and the crimson glue holding me together
replenishes itself more diluted each time

before i died
i swung through technicolor
episodes of scarlet, rose,
ecstatic white, and the
sapphire blue to haunt my dreams
waking and at night
but the color leached away,
the antiseptic began to pervade, refilled my veins
and purged me of everything but grey.

before my death,
i reigned over the darkness, banished it
when it did not suit me,
manipulated reason, lived in a waking dreamland,
in complete control of my life-
but now, when i am fragile as eggshell,
it’s the only place i can hide,
a haven where i can act like the lack of light
masks an imagined vivacity and not a skeleton in flat black and white,
disguises and emboldens me,
allows me to be whole again,
to forget the borders, my limitations
indiscernable in dusk

i used to cast my own light-
now i am my own shadow
and in the dark i fumble for
what i used to be,
reconnect myself with the world
throw myself from the cliff
and hope to find my wings again

–

written w10oct2012.

the 4th april 2012 marks the day i first was hospitalized- the day the doctors realized there was something critical missing from my psyche. 4/04: error: page not found.

i’m not embarrassed to admit this. everyone has issues, especially during the teenage years.

–

brain freeze

he was nearly twentynine and he still hadn’t figured himself out,
still dedicated nights to the process of tearing up his moral ground,
laying his foundation, caught up in vacillation
between acts of possible valor- the ones to turn his life around.

he knew he would know somehow when he finally got it right
he was looking for that one sign-
the one they talk about in movies and
all the books which leave you shattered at the end,
the ones no one else has read
but those who do
swear upon like they’ve never heard of the bible,
try to imitate the main character,
stumble into chaos and think they’ll end up all right,
like in the movies-
a lucky plot twist and they’ll own the night.

he wandered aimlessly,
up until the sun came out and the vampires went to sleep,
accompanied by cigarettes and the sound of his own head,
burned dirt and the cold of the city,
until the time of night where his words stalled
brain froze
and the space in his head became suddenly visceral,
paralyzed by feeling until his tongue and the roof of his mouth
sought each other out, pressed in a warm embrace
until the pain went away
until he closed up the wound behind his eyes
forgot the torment of seeing
until the night tore him open again.

–

written t9oct2012.

wrote this in ten, fifteen minutes during broke starving writer’s club back when i was in university.

you know, the best way to cure a brain freeze is to press your tongue against the roof of your mouth to warm it up.

confessor

i’ll always be there outside of the box
where you spill out your burdens to god
tell me everything you’ve done wrong-
just unpend your sins, you’re cleansed, now you win

i’m
the convenient answer
to feeling remorseful about what you’ve done
made a mistake? i’m here, don’t you wait
i’ve got all the time you need

and on it goes; my shoulder
for you to lean on will always be there
but don’t bother to ask me how i’m doing-
you’re not supposed to care

i’m tired of being used like an old whore
you rip me to shreds, leave my tongue on the floor
i’m speechless, i’m hurting, held back by my pride
i’m letting my ego take over my mind
i’m playing callous like it’s some sort of game
pretending i’m fine when i’m driven insane
you take the wheel from me, steer into a ditch
leaving me battered and broken, unimpressed, not spoken

i’ve got
my tongue tied in knots
from navigating the tangled webs you drag me through
but i
will never let myself lose

i need to destroy something, run it right through
to reflect my insides after speaking to you
and maybe i’m just a bitter young bitch,
but i’ll take a hit, and i won’t let you miss

so drive me into the ground
i won’t be beaten down
you can’t do much to me;
i can’t get much lower now
how far can you bring me down?
yeah, i’ll hold my ground

i’m tired of hearing each of your confessions
simply not being able is not a transgression
you’re weighing me down with your innocent guilt
i won’t feel your trauma if no souls were spilt

i’m so sick
of hearing your troubles; don’t say what’s amiss
take a hint
your drama won’t make or break you
it’s no calamity if she hates you

i’m tired of hearing about your petty fights
scuffling over my business won’t help with your strife
you think being hateful will show me the light?
you’re wrong, good riddance, get out of my life
something so intrinsic isn’t abomination
no matter your creed or your denomination
your social life will never make you a saint
and confessing won’t stave off my hate

i’m so sick
of hearing your troubles; don’t say what’s amiss
take a hint
get off of my shoulder, take your own goddamn boulder
and live your own life for a bit
don’t confess, i’m not impressed,
just live your life and leave me be.

–

written a11aug2012.

–