Thursday, July 29, 2010

a desert heart

A, you wilting
tug-scarred and radiant you

you are a
of sound and light and pictures of little sister
that your mother


[we've always loved you the best.]

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

but i don't say a lot of things

poetry doesn't have to be boxed
like a christmas gift when you were little.
rhyming and perfect and fake.

poetry is a
into the distance when your voice won't even work. it is a

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

code red; we've got a bleeder.

oh hey.
my blog's in english now.
it's time to know what it says.

and what if my soulmate was everywhere i turned?

a healthy relationship for a crazy person is like a gun to the head.
except the bullets are made of rainbows and covered in kittens

and it doesn't kill you
just makes you feel a little

out of place.


this isn't fair.

Monday, July 26, 2010

our hearts seemed to burst every second we spent

take the filth and the vile and the terrible things we have done-;
people somewhere are holding hands
and i am dying.

all these truths that should have been self evident.

you've been as cruel as you always swore you'd be.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

kicking your crosses down

her skin on my skin; her words
were enough
and they always would be

love don't live here anymore

she burns.
the stale warm air reminding her of
something inside. and she thinks [maybe]
if you cut her open something rotten might just [figuratively]
seep through her skin
[.but quite literally.]


you sit there for hours, writing on the backs of napkins [paper bags, the walls, anything]. you hate to write but you do it anyway because
you love her

and this is what people who are in love do for each other. they write all of it down and they kiss the corners of each others mouths and they send christmas cards together to all of the relatives who used to mock them. every single word reminds you of how much you hate everything [sentences, punctuation, her voice when she talks to you] so you write and write and sleeping doesn't matter anymore because there's so much to say. she calls the doctors on you and she cries on the phone and you just write in the next room over. it always rains but that's okay because she buys you a raincoat and hugs for a very long time and you
[kind of] sink.

she's quiet and you're quiet and the apartment feels empty. she worries about the writing. she worries about you. [but not enough]. she cries a lot and it makes you so mad because she's always had everything handed to her and you have nothing. can't she see that you have nothing? you spend hours in bed trying to memorize every curve of her because she's so faint now and any day now she might just, disappear. your misery is her misery and she feeds off you.
you and her.
practically sharing the bullet
and you're very surprised when she leaves.

you sell everything. the dishes, the bed, the table, the fucking floor rugs [she liked those the best]. you sit in the bare rooms at night and you call her voicemail just to hear her voice. you paint the walls. you tear up the carpeting. you throw up a lot. you try to keep busy.

she comes back though.
and it's not the same because
she's better and you're not and she has to take care of you now.
you're unhappy and she's unhappy but it's okay because this is what people do when they are in love.
they scream and they cling and they steal each others breathe.
so she lays on the mattress in the living room and you smoke too many cigarettes and your mouth always tastes like coffee [she notices].
she stops worrying about the writing
and all of her days are good days now.

this time you aren't surprised when she leaves.

i think so

"For instance," said the boy again, "if Christmas trees were people and people were Christmas trees, we'd all be chopped down, put up in the living room, and covered in tinsel, while the trees opened our presents."
"What does that have to do with it?" asked Milo.
"Nothing at all," he answered, "but it's an interesting possibility, don't you think?"

Monday, July 19, 2010

is always you

in my dreams
shadows seem a little taller.
but by the morning they're gone
and we're together.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

parts of movies where everyone cries.

but what if you ask for a sign from god
and something really bad happens?

regret is a rearview mirror.

i followed you through time.
ages and eons and airports and cars

oh; all these lives i have lived!

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Tuesday, July 6, 2010


i wish you could love me for how much i love you.