Exchange, Love in Quarantine, and Crepuscular Flowers Published in Suburban Witchcraft
poetry
Paper is up at Spillwords!
Fragility
I hold your heart
up to the moon
with red palms
and eyes
like two egg yolks.
Everything
in this world is soft,
even the stones
we pass between us.
–
Our hearts
still hold sadness as a virtue.
When I sink into your depths
I hold my breath
and let you fill me
like a ghost
with your vacuous longing.
We fathom only
those parts that we can fathom.
–
My love is unwieldy,
it is a meteor
splitting the void of space
into segments of fire and ice.
When our bodies touch
I forget that we have endings.
There is only the knowledge
of our sameness,
of our coupling and uncoupling.
–
Your absence makes me ache.
You are my limbs,
my core,
my brittle, black roots.
When you go
I am reduced
to a third of a person.
Loneliness
must feel
very much
like being eaten.
–
My head is full of thieves,
their cravings, their blood-thirst.
Their burnt fingertips
clutch my spine
as though it were a sword.
This is how I became
two people,
a woman to adore
and another woman
bitter as a gourd
and hollow on the inside.
–
I reach into your mouth,
my serpent-tongue,
the forbidden knowledge
that tells us how to live
in order to really love another.
It feels impossible
to change a belief
into a home.
Sometimes
all we know of home
is the door
which marks
our passage.
–
In me the demons
still crowd together.
You could say that my corners
are screaming.
You could say that my walls
are wet and guilty.
You could say that
I understand life
only in relation
to suffering
and that when I love
I suffer for the sake
of maintaining
a certain degree of fragility.
Update
On March 29th my poem “Paper” will be featured on Spillwords.com. I will post the link when it goes up so please visit. In other news I got an internship as a Journalist for Propl which starts May 1st.
Sutured to a Flame
https://www.patreon.com/posts/sutured-to-flame-63535182
Today I put up a live video on my Patreon account. It is a poetry reading. It is free to view. All my content is free to view.
Paper
I am paper
in the hands of a child.
You touch me
carelessly.
Your eager fingers
smudge my skin
until all that is left
is a window of a woman,
a tragic sliver of white
in an ever darkening room.
–
I thin beneath
your constant erasure.
What I was
and what I am
interchangeable
and imperfect.
My needs are
inconsequential,
my nerves naked,
my heart fuzzy and grey.
I am merely a product
for your amusement.
You do not care,
you only do
that which comes easiest
to you.
As I lie here exposed
I wonder if my pain
is in anyway
a reflection of the artist
or if the artist
is simply thoughtless.
–
You leave uncertain marks.
Marks which tear
at my insides.
Marks which lie
scar-adjacent.
The stars weep
and you laugh
as I,
crowded and remade
a thousand times,
become a void.
–
You scribble
in my margins,
your shapeless sentiments,
your waxy, wavering lines
untranslatable,
sometimes offensive.
You tear my edges
and crush me
into a ball
with your fist.
–
I am only a draft.
You will never
carry me to the end.
I will not become
a memory for you.
I am nothing precious.
In me there is only
the notion of a life.
Patreon Account
I created a Patreon account. I will be posting some poetry/stories there. I don’t intend to charge for anything (I am not 100 percent sure how it works though) but there should be an option for donating. Is anyone else using Patreon? If I add exclusive member content does their need to be an associated cost? I want it to be totally voluntary. I would like to use the donations (if there are any) to submit to magazines.
I spent my days and nights
alone,
wondering what you felt.
if you felt
lonely,
if you waited
for me,
as I waited for you.
–
I spent my days and nights
watching
celestial bodies paint the sky
in a myriad of colors,
imagining
your nakedness
spreading over
my nakedness
and in the heat and height
of arousal,
I cried.
–
I spent my days and nights
wishing
for your lips to part,
eager to drink
of your sentiments,
hoping
that your words
would clarify my feelings.
–
I spent my days and nights
desperate
for you to choose,
swallowing
my breath,
my arms reaching
out to you.
–
I spent my days and nights
suspended,
with my heart
half-way in and half-way out,
ready
to run towards you,
ready
to run away.
–
I spent my days and nights
crouching
like a child
in the darkness,
pulling petals from flowers
while you stood
hesitant, but accessible
like the wind.
Love and Death
There are as many ways
to love a man
as there are to kill him.
–
Love and death are closer
than love and hate.
Love is about peeling away
the surface skin.
It’s about marrow and blood.
Love is a relentless series of resurrections,
the surrender of the solitary
for a borderless union.
–
Between us,
two sovereign states
collapse into one.
No one escapes untouched.
No one escapes without
leaving some trace
of what was
and what could have been.
–
If in time you find another
has taken my place
know that she has ate of my soul.
Know that she casts the same shadow.
Know that she smells of the very same trees.
Know that she is only the affected version of myself,
the one that wakes and sleeps
and cries too often.
–
Death might be the means
by which we live our lives,
the adrenaline rush,
the stone in the bottom of the shoe
that reminds us
of the weight of walking.
–
quick poem on the bus
Wordle #249 “preview”
Two days
could be
the difference
between sterility
and an eternity
well spent.
We could live
or we could
sit together
backs turned
plotting out
an exact course.
–
I want to get lost
with you, in you.
I want firsts not rehearsals,
clumsy conversations
awkward hands,
clothes that break away
like wrapping paper
at Christmas.
Leave out the punctuation,
the mind fuckery,
the lists of possible complications.
For once in your life
fail to be perfect.
–
I want a celebration
a communion,
a moment with you
which hasn’t been
set in stone,
ear-marked,
twisted like a strand of hair
around a school girl’s finger.
Leave your scent,
your fingerprints,
forget everything
but the exclamation.
–
You are patient.
I am fire.
My freedom
cannot be exchanged
for ambiguity,
for a 100 gallant promises
repeatedly broken.
If you would have me
then you’ve only
to speak the words
loud enough
that I can hear them.
https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2021/07/12/wordle-249/
mindlovemisery 