Yours is the first skin
I touched in hopes of holding on.
Yours are the first lips
I kissed under bed covers,
stars, and disarray.
Yours are the first hands
I held in fear of where they'd go
had they strayed.
Yours are the first eyes
to tell me 100 different things
in a second and a half
without ever uttering a word.
Yours are the first eyes to know
what I feel like while unclothed.
Yours are the first hands
I let go of in wonder
of where they'd go.
Yours is the one and only body
mine still feels and misses
in the most selfish way.
In front of the fridge,
By the dishwasher.
On the couches.
On the street.
In the drive.
In the grass.
Your room.
Never in mine.
By the fireplace.
And by the bonfire.
And on the trampoline.
And on the railroad tracks.
On the bench by the pond, the lake.
Yours are the first fingers
to graze my bare thighs.
Yours are the first legs
to tangle and wrap around
mine.
Yours is the only presence
which ruins me in its absence.
Yours is the only voice
I keep voicemails of in
spite of knowing you'll
never call again. Because
You'll never call again.
Yours is the last thing
I fear I'll be again.
Yours is the face I see
in the best and worst
of my dreams.
Yours is the name
I would scream
in January, when October
I couldn't beat.
Yours is the number I
text but for which I
never can hit send.
Yours is the breaking
for which I always bend.
- Yours
Tuesday, April 19, 2016
Saturday, April 16, 2016
Today
I don't know if I'll ever feel as deeply
and strongly for someone as I did for you.
You had me at, "is your hair hungry?"
And at every line you drew.
I want you to know
that this is not for show.
It's how my life has changed,
since you ended our friendship
like a hanger to be hanged.
He kissed me today.
By the river, on the bank.
He asked me first
And I saw his thirst
But after you
I hate that it's true
But I rarely do refuse.
I remember I saw that exact same thirst
once before in your eyes
as they cursed
the feeling there inside of you
to wait at least until month three
To even dare kiss me;
I loved your chivalry.
I don't know how you did it—
how you wonderfully won over me.
I don't even think you knew how willingly
I gave my heart over to you.
For once upon a zucchini gift
on my deck as only you would do,
I simply and whole-heart-edly just knew.
Now I give my body and my opinion.
And I neither do not mind nor do.
The only thing that kills me now
is that no matter who I choose,
not one of them will ever be
the same as you— for they are them—
and you refuse.
Thursday, April 14, 2016
Phantom Legs
I want to walk for years.
to your old house.
to the place under the tree in
my front yard.
to the frozen couch on Dean St.
to Heaven Dr.
and Mac'n Cheese Hill.
That place under the stars
by the cemetery in the middle of
I was looking at you.
You asked me where I think
the stop signs go to die
and I told you I do, too—
love you.
Now I select your name on the computer
and I hit 'replace'.
It says "no replacement found".
It makes me want to walk
to the places in my mind
where you are still around.
Where falling in love is
sliding across the hardwood flooring,
kissing in the rain on the side of the
road while it's straight up pouring,
tiptoeing to your room while
your parents are snoring.
I want to walk back to Dean Street
with my clothes-iron and spoon
and look at you and your muskmelon
and say "I still love you."
Meet me in Hell, and we'll walk
like you always joked we'd do,
like you always joked we'd do,
through the hearse show;
I love you still, it's true.
I love you still, it's true.
As to why, I really just don't know.
- A Paraplegic
Wednesday, April 13, 2016
As I Raised It To My Lips
If you can't tell someone where you've been,
at least tell them where you're going.
Sometimes, that's not enough for them,
but more often than not they'll be
happy to have an idea of what
you are doing when they think
of you randomly while at breakfast
with your placebo, or replacement.
They'll raise their coffee to their lips
and right before they take a drink,
they'll picture you doing whatever is was
that you told them you'd be doing,
even if what you are doing is
trying to
forget them.
whose name
I still have
yet to ask
approached
our table
and rattled
me out of
my thoughts;
I heard the
boy across
the table
rambling
still. He
isn't you.
"More Coffee
to top it off?"
she asked.
"Yes please
just to warm
it up,"
I muttered.
"Sure thing."
"Thanks,"
I said as
I said as
I raised it
to my lips.
Benediction
Is it war if you fight it?
Is it love when you don't?
There is more when you let go
Of the fear that you can't
As we burn in the fire
Slowly learning to breathe
Ooh... but come die with me
Always looking for an underneath
Imagine it's a warning sign
I don't wanna lose more time
Darling, don't you close your eyes
Keep listening - are you listening?
I'm sorry we don't have forever
Ooh... but come die with me
There's a knock in the silence
I see death at the door
But I know we'll be alright
Cause your hands are still warm
The day the smoke starts rising
And all the bombs fall down
Don't wanna be the ones caught hiding
Wanna see the sky when it hits the ground
Imagine it's a warning sign
I don't wanna lose more time
Darling, don't you close your eyes
Keep listening - are you listening?
I'm sorry we don't have forever
Ooh... but come die with me
-Luke Sital-Singh
Standing In Front Of A Podium
I used to do what I had to do because I had to.
Now I do not because I can.
I don't know what happened.
I was waiting for you to show.
Expecting you to know
How much your presence meant to me.
She died. I didn't know her well.
I knew you. And I killed you before
You could even live.
But I didn't do it on purpose.
I didn't even know I'd done it.
Not fully.
So when you told me what I'd done— to you—
How I made you sick to your stomach with feeling.
I couldn't grasp it. It made no sense.
I loved you.
You loved the idea of me.
There was a metaphysical gap in there somewhere.
A rip, a tear.
You're gone now.
And I've lain you down.
You're dead.
And so is she.
Only difference is,
Only difference is,
I went to her funeral.
And this is your eulogy.
- 6 Foot Reach
I Keep Running Into Her
I still believe you're there inside
Hidden in and under and away behind
The person you are trying to show you've
Become through the eyes in your head.
I know if I could only look you in the eye
Surprise you
Shock you
Show you I don't believe you for a second
You'd unzip yourself from the top of your head
Underneath your hairline and step out of your
Winter skin before it consumes you.
It's not fair, that you should disappear
Into blackness, deeper despair.
Before you even realize you want out
and can't get out
Can't get out
Can't get out
Like an overly tight dress on a self- conscious girl,
Suffocating and frightening.
Get out
Come out
Come out of this skin. I beg of you.
Cover yourself in your old t-shirts and red-colored jeans.
Purple shoes... Kind eyes.
Put on your Bullet For My Valentine
Shirt and knock on my front door.
But please don't wait for me to answer it,
Just come right in. As you always did.
Walk into my kitchen like you used to
And hug me from behind.
Remind yourself of who you are inside.
Come out of this skin.
It's already changing your chin!
It's absorbed your mouth... Your cheek!
Don't let it spread to your hands, your heart, your feet.
Don't do this for her, for him, or for me.
Do it for happiness. For life. And for yourself. Be free!
That's all I want for you.
I want you, for you.
I need you to fight for you.
Truly, I do.
But don't forget me
when you leave in search of you.
when you leave in search of you.
Don't forget me...
On this...I won't relent
On this...I won't relent
Don't forget
-Her, The One You Finally Bent
Monday, April 11, 2016
The Words I Can Say
Asleep in Silence, alive in Pain.
Dead in Ignorance, reborn insane.
In the late hours I'm tempted to say,
"Good Lord we're broken,
But I know it's not in vain."
You're a world away.
Changed.
Deranged. (Compared to how I knew you).
Obtained. (By the incinerator of souls).
(Depression).
Intercession. (With yourself under cover).
Of darkness. (It's my only explanation).
For why you severed the umbilicals linking us.
Feeding me. Ornamentation.
But I was not decorous.
I did not make you look better.
You made me better. Or maybe not.
Perhaps, most probably,
Your eager ear made my loose lips utter justifications
For my actions, because you listening
Emboldened me.
Destructively.
I don't know why but your hand grabbing for me
Only made me position my mind equidistant
From you and the love in me.
It was like tug of war with heaven and hades;
The rope, blue,
And heaven—on fire.
Asleep in Silence, alive in Pain.
Dead in Ignorance, reborn insane.
In the late hours I'm tempted to say,
"Good lord we're broken,
But I know it's not in vain."
You are a world away.
Changed.
Deranged. (Compared to how I knew you).
Obtained. (By the incinerator of souls).
(Depression).
Intercession. (With yourself under cover).
Of darkness. (It's my only explanation).
For why, in God's name,
You would drop to one knee
Then turn around & abandon me.
Caging the love in my heart and
Training it to fear the airborne, forlorn
Nature of Cupid's dart.
Because your love was an ultimatum
"What if I just proposed?"
I know that nobody really knows, but I do. And those?
Those were your words.
Verbatim.
-Speechless
My Problem
I. Never. Stopped.
Caring about you.
in the silence,
in the cold
in the anger
in the bold attempts
to leave you behind
I always felt this deep
and unadulterated sense
of understanding for and of
who you are.
You do not change.
You may struggle to adapt yourself
and sometimes you avoid pain
by inflicting it
but you, yourself,
do not change.
And because of you,
neither will I
I'll always care
without any regard
for myself.
- Scraping
Last Fall
No one ever
really likes to say what they've done.
Just like they don't really like to say
What's happened to them.
"When it happened..."
"The incident"
"That day..."
They act as though
naming the thing they did
and the thing that happened
to them will suddenly make
those things revisit them.
Maybe it will.
-Someone Who Notices
Tell Me Anyway
I'm wondering
Where you are
How you are
What you're doing
If you're hurting
If you're happy
Who you're with
If you miss me
If you think of me
If God puts you in my mind
at the moments you most need Him
But I know I do not want to know
The power of the question
is lost in the answer.
I might not survive the answers.
Or I will and they won't affect me.
I'm really not sure what would hurt more.
and I'm entirely convinced I do not want
to know that either.
-Misgiving
The Pits
I hide behind my hair
When I don't want them to see my face
Sometimes I tiptoe around the earth
as if I could greet the grave
without leaving a trace
God knows you're here
if you believe that God's up there
Let that comfort fill the pits
In your stomach where the empty is,
let it fill your lungs like a nicotine hit
if you're okay with being full of shit.
-Lab Rat #6,999,999,999: Showing Symptoms Of Doubt
On The Daily
Me: Who are you here for?
Your New Girlfriend’s Profile Pic: My boyfriend! You?
Me: A ghost.
-Every time I Stalked Your Facebook
Advice
"You have to let it go to move forward."
Thank you so very much.
I'll let you know
how the drive goes
when I remove all the lines
from the road.
-The Snarcasm From Within
Bitterness
But I know they're right.
There isn't a single dead end
that leads to Rome,
and no one fills up at a gas station
so they can call it home.
I have to accept
You were the tank of gas
I needed to get where I was going,
and going pretty fast.
I have to accept this to make
this functional feeling last.
-Repairman No Longer Wanted
Diffuse
Witness happiness; it will bleed into you.
It may evaporate you into a whisper as it moves from high to low,
but I'm not a chemist.
It might just stay within your components
and make you a better compound.
It may take away the acidity.
It may leave just enough to remind
you you're still a little sour.
But our tongues were made
to taste that too.
Being human sucks, I know!
But some of us have figured out
a way to make the best of it.
You have to think about it this way:
The sun may have gotten
the better deal over the moon,
but we have our capacity of reason;
I like to think that puts us
just shy of stars underneath the Sun.
And we are rising balloons;
we can handle the heat.
Just be watchful—careful—
because Icarus thought so too,
and even he was beat.
-The Girl In The
Corner of Nikki’s
Go Insane
Go insane—
But never judge the breaks
by the bones wear-ing a cast,
for the silent bones are the bones
whose breaking often goes
painstaking-ly, un-note-essed.
They may heal, and marrow
may refill their cracks,
But it slowly pools
through invisible holes
in tendrils weak—around the back.
Panning for survivors through
the coals of molten flesh,
the wounds are deepest where
the old blood meets the fresh.
And even though forgotten
without a bullet-proof,
word-proof vest,
there is no cage
made of rib-bone or rage
with steel enough to restrain
the thrashing scars from for-give-ness.
But still invest— in the insane—
for it is the bane
that often precedes life's very best.
As for the rest, I'd say,
there is, truly,
little con-se-quence.
--Someone Who’s
Picked Their Heart
Up Off The Ground
Picked Their Heart
Up Off The Ground
Saturday, April 9, 2016
20 Candles For You To Blow Out
It's my birthday.
And the only person I want to hear
"Happy Birthday" from is you.
When you said it,
I know you actually meant
"Love me.... And I'll be damned
to hell if you ever let go."
But that was years ago.
-Blindly Waiting For You
Friday, April 8, 2016
I Should Delete This
Today:
“Hey girl, you still seein’ that guy?”
“Which one?”
Every boy I turned more man
since you asked me for my shaking hand
flashed through my mind
like whirling wind in a wind-turbine.
If you had tried for my heart instead of demanding my hand,
I wouldn’t have run to another man
that wasn’t you again and again.
I should have been your's.
But, you took the wrong stand.
And even though sometimes
I think I still am,
when push comes to shove
love awakens love.
An "I do" for "I do".
-This Is What Happened After You
Thursday, April 7, 2016
Thinking Back
It may have come in a surge,
the caring for you,
or as a sickening wave,
but I never stopped—
not even for a second—
loving, longing for, praying for,
and thinking about you.
You are my other.
I’ll have other others
… I’m sure.
But I’ll never have another first other.
A second or a third maybe …
But you will always be the original other.
You’ll always be.
And I think that’s what
makes me so frightening.
Why the other others are afraid.
They can’t relate.
They can’t see into my memory and experience you.
That’s a privilege I have.
The misery is a privilege.
I am privileged to have lived
in the reach of your existence,
to have been brushed and
penetrated by your being
for a time.
I know this.
And I hate it.
It scares me, too.
-A Little Naieve
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