Wednesday, October 29, 2014

mania

i think i am changing into something electric, something humming and
volatile- the first atoms smashing into each other like angry
bees or trapped flies against the window pane, my insides
have returned to primordial radio frequency, static noise
and magnetic. my heart has been racing for
a very long time and i worry that it might
just stop and
i worry that it might
not

i want you to hit me as hard as you can,
i want to taste the blood
of your knuckles and the throb of my jaw like the throb
between your legs, a fluttering moth against
the burning wet sun.
there is an altar inside of you and i whimper my penance for all the
horrible things i have done to myself
occasionally you find yourself fighting the urge to
ruin everything good in your life. 
you plot it out, what bank accounts would be
closed, the fastest way to deconstruction, leap from cathedral windows and
spread shadow out like a cross, emerge through 
a stained-glass curtain and black out the sun with the crow
of your falling body, sprinkle back down like some sort of fucking 
confetti. 

occasionally i imagine 
everyone naked, everyone as a dog, everyone as a child

my pulse hurts, 
the pounding of it 
as an alarm clock or a 
time bomb.
you are hungry, ravenous, a machine built for
devouring, absorbing. you are made of conveyor belts, 
keyboards, quicksand, black holes
and the exhaustion of constant involuntary motion

mania comes stomping through my front door and doesn't remove
her boots, she has viper teeth and crawls on my lap.
i bury myself in her neck like a bone in the yard, whisper
"darling, I've missed you so much"
and she bites.

Monday, October 20, 2014

quick note

NYC followers,

if you would be interested in seeing an awesome spoken word poetry show and open mic (i may or may not be performing...and so could you!), email me at blets5013@gmail.com for details. hope that some of you can make it!

xx
b

Friday, October 17, 2014

i am so in love
with the world, she cradles me to sleep and i kiss the top of her
continents, run my fingers through her deltas until her spinning
turns rhythmic
like the up and down of a thermometer or a rising chest-
i am so in love
that i find it hard to grieve, i am picking it from my clothes like
pieces of dust, i am nudging it away from my door like an unruly cat- i am not ready for the
gravity of this but am drawn to it like
a moth to the porch light my mother always left on-
"in case someone is ever lost"
oh darling, i think i am lost

hope can be a poison, i think about you nearly all of the time.
i am pushing it into the bottom of the garbage can, i am stubbing it out on my windowsill and
frantically holding it to my lips six hours later
i am pulling it over me like
six comforters and waking, sweat-covered, shaking, and hot in the night
but don't dare kick the covers off
in fear of waking her up.

i am sitting under the porch light, mostly
muscle and strong now, my hip bones are sharp, my eyebrows are sharp-
i need something drastic and boiling and big, soon because
i am so in love and trying to convince myself,
sitting under the porch light,
that it's not a miracle.