the softest chaos
I tattooed my petals over your skin
structured myself into those bones
breathed in deeper than my soul stands
filling your lungs with love
and giving us life,
the softest chaos forever imprinted
in between
the crimson threads
Buried love
Heartbreak had me kissing other people to get over you
I fell in love with too many ghost of you
I became a haunted house
Too spook
With the thought of start over
Too afraid of cobwebs of memories
That were
Edited to
Not see
The brokenness in every glass you shatter
Inside of me
I tried to turn your spells into lyrics
Thinking
I could
Pull you from the graves of
Under tow
And resurrect all the good moments
And leave all the darkness
And anger
Buried in coffins of scrapbooks
And I be lying if I didn’t bend over bodies
And try to resurrect
You through them
Searching for
Someone like you
See lips
Are the same on every body
But they all smelled like charcoal
And empty catacombs
That lack substance
just walking Cadviers
I became a coroner
Them asking
Why did I our love die
So fast
I can’t bring myself
To say
You
Ever tried to love a dead thing back to life .....
Mourning you
Was like loving you in every person I fell for
and you are dead to me love
monochrome strings
Our world turned upside down,
I sat in the unrelenting cold.
As the ivory flakes cascaded,
I was left without anyone to hold.
It was dark, it was dreary,
even though it was bright outside.
Roses slumped in the crystal vase,
the color leeched out as they died.
We solemnly listened to the radio,
as it sat on the ivory mantle of frost.
In all its brokenness, it played
soft songs that had once been lost.
And in all my darkness, I heard
the nostalgic, hushed guitar strings,
that I followed on a dark desert highway,
that gave my frozen heart wings.
They brought back memories of you,
Through a shimmering light.
For I finally thought to myself,
I felt free of the velvet night.
I remembered how I loved you,
and fell for the look in your eyes -
cerulean like the dark sea,
magnetizing like the sunrise.
So I hoped, with all my soul,
that somewhere, by strings of fate,
you'd hear this lonely song,
and know that it's you I await.
because we had been here before,
Frozen under a single light.
I missed your deep blue eyes,
in this monochrome sea of white.
My love, the radio whispered,
and I thought of your heartbeat.
As I had heard it a year ago,
leaving me painfully bittersweet.
I never meant to love you,
but the moment you smiled,
I, unequivocally, knew I would -
to the darkened edges of the wild.
Some dance to remember,
some dance to forget,
but we danced to love,
no bleeding moments of regret.
So now whenever that song plays,
I think of you and a never-ending December.
I only hope, when you hear these strings,
wistfully yet in love, you remember.
falling, being, landing.
falling
yearning for proximity
longing for your approval
carving every moment
into my soul
into the margins of my notebook
the forefront of my brain
etched out
in flowery cursive
“today, you smiled at me”
being
syrupy sweet
thick like a fog
breathe it in
sigh it out
a kiss
a hug
a glance
we share a smile
or a short chuckle
and all is right in the world
landing
the lights have dimmed
a smile just isn’t enough anymore
the butterflies settle
the flowers wilt
the hearts sink deep into the earth
the world cools
chills
freezes over
our souls weep
glass and ash
baby girl,
heart of glass,
I’m sorry.
Your heart sits unmoving in the coffin that is your chest,
the creak of rotting wood and old hinges,
keys hidden from the boy who tried to break you,
kept on a chain at your throat like a noose,
wrapped in paper scrawled with a promise to never love again
written a hundred times over
(and over and over)
reckless boy,
heart of ash,
why did you do it?
Your hands are shaking, even now, unfit for a glass heart-
and I know you thought she could fix you,
thought she would see the flames in your eyes
but she shattered as you burned away
leaving two empty husks in the field behind the church
crashing against one another, primal and violent and free
(with nothing behind the eyes)
untitled
i watch his eyes, dark and brown, as he lights a match,
the flame reflects and i can barely make out
the caramel tint that is only visible in the sun,
the eyes that look at me so fondly when i tell him
how beautiful he is for the sixth time that day
i watch his hands as he hovers the flame
over the wick of the apple cinnamon candle
he bought for me because he knows its the
only scent i will burn in my room, the hands
that trace my skin while i read my favorite
books as he watches my expressions as if my face
is telling the story to him
i watch his lips as he blows the match out
and lets the smoke travel where ever it wants,
the lips that are always soft and eager to kiss me
when we stop at red lights or before we go
to bed or when he comes home from studying
at the park because i distract him with too
much affection, he doesn't have the strength to resist
You are hopelessly attractive...
You are hopelessly attractive...
the sound of your voice that soothes my anxieties
the look on your face when I talk about the things that I enjoy
the fact that you show interest in what I do on a daily basis
it's in the way that you laugh at my jokes, and sometimes at me
the way that you smile at me, as I try to figure out what you're thinking
or when you rest your head on my shoulder for no reason at all
when you do the things that I like with me even when you don't want to
or whenever you ask me to follow you and I usually say no, but I follow anyways
but sadly you're not mine
and you maybe never will be
so I hope she appreciates everything you do for her
and even though she's yours
you're still hopelessly attractive to me...
a concept
love is a concept
surrounding you and me
true love
fake love
puppy love
"i love you"
tossed around easily
it weighs nothing
right?
I don't think so
love weighs heavily
on
my
mind
will I find it?
does it exist?
am I capable of loving you
when I can't love myself?
Love does that for you
Love is not something you can choose to give
You can’t choose who you give love to
Love does that for you
Free Verse
our love is free verse,
no rhyme or reason,
just line after line of poetry.
our love is not a sonnet,
it's not long,
it's not spoken on a stage.
our love is free verse,
never going out of style.
our love is free verse.
we are ourselves,
and that is enough.
we don't need to be a couplet.
because our love is free verse.
it doesn't need to rhyme.