I finally posted a few old poems under my 2013 poems, as well as a few new ones and a poem under 2014. Take a look if you'd like! You can find them under the drop down category "poems" at the top of the page.
(It's a long update this time. Lots of unposted half thoughts and scraps of material.)
Can I help that I'm so in love with the moon? My soul belongs to the universe.
More than human.
&The wet sunshine leaks in through the blinds.
I would rather take a vicodin than drink a six pack of beer. I am probably better off doing neither.
And for a moment, she wondered if she was God.
As romantic as a death sentence.
I need time to decompress.
Who says we couldn't be in love?
I wish I cared half as much as I say I do.
Float back down to earth and telling me, how the hell did we get here? Where the hell are we going? You're a sailor, but you say you want to be the captain. Tell me, how you gonna make that happen? And I feel like the only thing you think I'm good for is making you look better.
I spent all of my heart on a lie.
I want a boy who steals not just my heart, but my soul.
Is it really that bad that I drink wine when I am sad?
I'll give back your stupid shirts, but I'm going to keep your beer.
Nubby knees shiver, wrestling up against each other under sheets to keep warm. The stars fade into the cold oblivion and we find that we are fragile. My bones are tired, but my mind is still quite alive. The sky becomes a color I cannot name and I think about all of the things in this world that do not have names. I stare at the dawn and want to call it something more.
Wondering if I will fall asleep before the sun rises.
If I drink enough tea, maybe I'll fall asleep.
There is no one left to love.
Sometimes, there is so much life inside of me that it comes bounding out, fighting the very body that contains it. It is times like this that I can't bear to sit still for fear that the static will not just kill me, but every last trace of me. But sometimes, there is too little life inside of me, so it hides away in some back corner of my heart, resisting any urge to be inspired. It is times like this that I can't bear to move for fear that if I try the world will break me.
It still wasn't enough to make you fall asleep next to me.
Just as the sky begins to open its bright, fiery eye, I begin to close mine.
Ravish my mind.
Why is it so much easier to write about you now that you're gone?
We will go to the same parties, but we will be alone. And you will look at him, and I will look at her, and we will both wonder. We will go home to separate beds and order take out food for one. We will fall asleep alone and make lists of all the things we cannot do.
I deserve your time, but I don't want it anymore.
And all of the sudden everything you thought that someone was, they are not.
And it is frustrating that I still edit the words I post online because I don't want to hurt your feelings. Funny, you never gave a damn about mine.
Well, I am sorry for you. I'm sorry that your life is so easy.
Heart strings (tendons) inside of an actual human heart.
Did you know that the heart strings can sometimes break after a deep emotional trauma causing the heart to lose form an as a result be unable to pump blood effectively? You can literally die from a broken heart. How terribly beautiful and tragic.
This is how you lose her.
You lose her when you forget to remember the little things that mean the world to her: the sincerity in a stranger’s voice during a trip to the grocery, the delight of finding something lost or forgotten like a sticker from when she was five, the selflessness of a child giving a part of his meal to another, the scent of new books in the store, the surprise short but honest notes she tucks in her journal and others you could only see if you look closely.
You must remember when she forgets.
You lose her when you don’t notice that she notices everything about you: your use of the proper punctuation that tells her continuation rather than finality, your silence when you’re about to ask a question but you think anything you’re about to say to her would be silly, your mindless humming when it is too quiet, your handwriting when you sign your name in blank sheets of paper, your muted laughter when you are trying to be polite, and more and more of what you are, which you don’t even know about yourself, because she pays attention.
She remembers when you forget.
You lose her for every second you make her feel less and less of the beauty that she is. When you make her feel that she is replaceable. She wants to feel cherished. When you make her feel that you are fleeting. She wants you to stay. When you make her feel inadequate. She wants to know that she is enough and she does not need to change for you, nor for anyone else because she is she and she is beautiful, kind and good.
You must learn her.
You must know the reason why she is silent. You must trace her weakest spots. You must write to her. You must remind her that you are there. You must know how long it takes for her to give up. You must be there to hold her when she is about to.
You must love her because many have tried and failed. And she wants to know that she is worthy to be loved, that she is worthy to be kept.
And, this is how you keep her.