Morning TeaShe told him once; the evening sky left her in euphoria. The following morning, he wore all black and put stardust in her tea.
todaytime takes away all the pleasuresof the day; the drumof falling rain waningto a muted beat, and we watchas the world glows,from the jaded sun. todaythe universe is ours stars an exhibition as wesoar, me and you; birdswithout wings.
KaliThe three crows cawedwith ruffled feathersand bodies decayed - black hearts beatingbeneath a cage of bones.In a world of men and monstersI was lost looking for you;a forgotten bride in virginal blackcaught between amnesia and love.Wildflowers grew in the ashes of your absence.I store myself beneath its roots -dark, motionlessand ready for you to remember me again.
LadyI am a desert lily, dead before I openwhen the sandstorm blows my petals away.
Oaki knew a girl once,with an oak heart and guarded hands(gloved from touch)but sheuncrossed her ankles,let naked fingertipstouch well-read lips, andher heart kind of turnedinto ash.i miss that girl,with the oak heart -she was tougher.
space junkone moment I was talkingto the man on the moon, andthen I was fallingthrough stars;downdowndown.i was surrounded byclouds, a wispy layer asmy body started to burn up from breakingthe atmosphere.and then, cool solaceas the ocean devoured me,and Isanksanksankblowing silvery bubblesas I floated likerogue space debris -nomadic to time and space.
FathomlessGulping at the tide,she sinks; the siren with copper hair.Fathomless,this is where the mermaids sleep;the sunken citywhere her father is kingand the world is all sky whales,leviathan waitingunder bedsits staring, black eyes of the unknownkeeping secrets during its somnolent slumber.
SandcastlesOn the beach alone,brown-eyed, petite, kneeling in the sandshe spent an hour of her lifebuilding somethingthat'd be washed away by sea.
Persephoneeven milk and honeytastes like ashes in my mouth.pomegranate seeds clinklike pebbles.i am the wife of melancholi.
The Giantsthe earth is our ship, and we turn throughoceans of timeon the mad waves of adark cosmic deep, lost in a vast seabillions of points of light our guidesthe ghosts of stars lightyears away that have already diedand been reborn,swallowed into blackholesthey vanishlike the skeletal masts of wrecksand lighthouses torn asunder.in gravitational tides we are pulledand seafarers draw strange patterns in the sky -so that we might cut the universe to sizeto stop our minds from drowning.we forget to look with fear and awe andwonderwe whisper (why)s -at a world we cannot touch beyond the hull.they are reborn again.with minds awake we voyage, dreaming softlyof gods and reincarnations lost in delusions of afterlifes andimmortality.And beyond us in our black oceanthe stars are rebornthe light of millions of ghosts touches usthrough eonsand fills our sky with sights that rob usof words.all energy survives and recycles intoendlessness.we are immortal ghost-watchers
The swerveI tore my flesh on the corner of the lake & bled in cubesand my best friend knew the weight of my green eyes and tried to sell themand the spring left me heavy in my skin and the air she breathed metasted of umami and B12 and water. I drank it all in just like waterand began the aviary process of collecting budding groves and early springs.you came to me with eyes like empty jars begging for sparksand the hundred scraps of paper of pretty lies in pretty cursives,the firefly wings and peonies and ocean salts and river rocksand you were the first one capable of rustling the dead leavesat the creek floor, so those went in, too. adding pensive thingsto your eyes until they flooded over. they keep flowing.You were beside me trembling at being essentialand I could barely contain my laughterfrom spilling into the air of the auroral forestand getting caught naked in the mountainsThe first time I didn't mean it to tearthrough your skull and plant flowersand you were beside me
Lucidityi.I am a natural lucid dreamer. When I was sick,I dreamed away whole strings of days that burstwith causal power, as if the sun, shining pastmy silted eyelids, had spilled a home behind them.You watched how well I played that girl:high heels, sparkle eyes,sitting on his work desk with my lips curled,legs crossed, booze at needle lengthbeneath my skin expelling floral tones,pectoral blushes. I pretended to fall asleep on top of his blanketsso I had access to my concave nest,a place without his hands on my stomach, no,and without his mouth on my shoulder.Now I am not even hereand he doesn't know, not at all.ii.My respectability besiegedthe rest of me when I believedin being respectable, for,like a miasma of red night,pulling up sleep in orange-tasting sinews,you were born from a nautilus shellto ensnare the thirst of laughing.Had you been tossed so far beyond yourself during the nightthat you woke up aware that you think about eternitybecause it's manifes
Pyres aren't just for the dead.I am a fire-starter;all dragon's breath,birthed by flame.When you finally saidyou needed me, I wasalready reborn. Ash smearedalong my face,fire drizzling my body.New.I'm not the girl you werehoping for, darling.Too wild for your clammyhands to grip and sculpt,I am blazing, igniting.My hands house infernos, myheart is now a hearth.I do not needyou to keep me warm.
what I forgot to sayto the girl who lives like a hurricane:don’t expect to tell me aboutyour addiction to self-harm andNyquil and have me smile;although, as I shiver from lakewaterand things less tangible, I seem toacquire a talent for glossing over the listof things I need to tell you--your boyfriendis an asshole. California does notbegin and end in a tiny town wherepeople operate like clockwork aroundthe same happy working song. I am nota fountain of wisdom, and, to be honest,I can barely understand you over thethunderstorms in my own brain.you are beautiful and you arewrong..to the girl I left back in time:purpose is not a given. I amthe same teenage angst who usedto wear too much eyeliner andcomplain about my futureas I’d foretold it-- loveless and whiny,like me. I am her plus a few moreself destructions and minusa lot more days to continue strivingalongside you for simple goals andsimple friends and simple memoriesI won’t remember..to the girl who see
on loving lengthwisei.in my near-nineteen years of life i have never wanted something, someone so much.[no, i swear, not even death itself]ii.waking up without you hurts.even though you don't have one, i slept with my webcam on last night so maybe you could catch a glimpse of me sleeping.you say i shiver in dreamland, and i tell you that's because i hardly dream --there is nothing in my mind then but grey matter and cold air, because even with the heat blasting at seventy and four fleece blankets, i have trouble making my own warmth.you told me that even so, i was smiling. and i said that though i don't remember, the only explanation would be that i was dreaming of you --before you were mine, you were my only dreams worth remembering. now, you're the only ones i ever have.iii.going out in winter seems colder than ever without you here.it makes me think of years ago, when i found that without flesh, it is impossible to insulate bones. you would sit next to me every morning on the bus, and f
jointedi remember days of holding your hands and swearing they felt so heavy, the synovial fluid that welled up around your joints was liquid leadfor years i wished to give youone thousand of my white blood cellsfor each day i had to leave you stranded on the kitchen floorand when i finally learned the wordsi wanted to tell you: the doctors never made you strongerwith any injection or titanium bonesbut you did yourselfevery morning you stood and opened your eyesbecause today, a woman asked me if i would like to take home flowers for youand i wanted to ask if in the coolers she had enough yellow rosesto fill the spaces between your kneecaps and every joint that ever achedso maybe you would come back aliveif i could promisepain wouldn't greet you
please, eathoney, please understand,i do not love holding you up like a sinking ship--your hipbones are jutting above seas of skin again, icebergs tearing both you and me aparthave you drank water today?because i worrythere is no fluidity in the way you move anymoreyou are all angles, angelyour body creaks and moans like an old, worn out machineand i don't have your schematics i know you've taken a tape measureof every inch of yourself but i cannot measure your mind to figure out how to fix youeven though your spine has more ridges than the rocky mountains,you know you cannot move themyou cannot pick up textbooksyour stockpot full of wateryourselfplease, don't forget how to smile againi remember all those years ago when you lost so much of yourself that even though i could help you up stairwells and wait for you on the bus every morning those beautiful twenty six muscles
the less i knowsomething new: my breath hitched but the words meant nothing.i owed the light peserverent flattery in the form of prose,stories of what could have been.the gloom in which i slept was a system altogether unable to measure up to the new universe;to exist together in perfect cognition is first to understand that i never wish to be better.how pitiable this impure form to which we all succumblittered with stars. i am temporary like them, almost, always and never.I have forgotten how to live. it is late mornings during which i upturn my lazy eyes to the skyagainst it's will. there, like you, live millions- and my mind is reborn.the day comes. easily her gentle beckoning fills our minds. the sky is golden-blue:unmasterable. we retract our wicked claws and our majestic selvesare now only threats we cannot perceive.we lie nestled like tired humans together in the cold grass, and the blades are shiningwet with the tears of the dawn. we're late. we're forgottenyou touch the e
pedicellariaeI am not astreet urchinI am a seaurchinspikes and venom andbristlingwith mysterybut everyone seemsto call meby the wrong name
Humanityi. CreatorFlicking through yellowed pages,The crinkles smelling of dust and tears.A human-induced God complex - authorial authority.ii. PhotographerAt parties, she hides behind her camera, just soSomeone gives her a smile once in a while.Too bad she only sneaks candid photos.iii. ConspiratorVindictive whispers cloy behind closedHands and hardened hearts. They vent.An immunity to gossip; a cathartic release.iv. VoyeurPeeping toms on laptop screens andDVDs - it's only natural, apparently.What is normal anyway?
InfiniteWe’d make a beautiful constellation,You and I –shivering galaxies that may implodebut who keep expanding,still hiding in gravitational lensesof sheer splendor -a thousand and one stars;we could wish for personalsor companyor maskless paradeswithout crippling facades-not nameless but known.You and I,we could be brighterthan the sun.
Lonely Gods"I wish my body to be a staircaseto heaven." She said, "A conduitof lonely Gods."Swayingpendulum hips, she, shewas made of stardust.- Scars sleepingabove a city of sweet bones, stirringlike sun-stricken scorpions duringhollow painkiller nights,mistaking her redred burnsfor Apollos kisses."Sadly, this body has whispered awaythe last of my secrets."
MalaiseYou were painfullike dry-swallowing pills on an empty stomachlike blasting music loudly enough to forget my nameand I was young, and I believed youwhen you said that beauty was pain.
perennialonce,i told you a secret:that a child with anorexiawill keep their heart small,no matter how largetheir body and mind grows.and i told you,about the whisper-hushas i walked down the hallat the age of eight,about the cafeteria womenwho were trained like dogsto check behind each molarfor gummy bits of sandwichand chips, only to call my motherand say yes, she ate today--though they never could promisejust how much.we both hope,with how i love,that a heart so smallcould still be strongand tended, like thatplant at the bottomof your stairwelli coaxed to green again.
slippers your ghost eats peanut butter out of the jar. an atomic grease fire tongues our oven like an aneurysm. if only we walked on clouds if only we lived in the belly of the ocean
when i dance, it isthe only timethat all parts of meare no longer lyingaround in placesthat i long agoleft behindand the piecescome back intoan order that althoughcracked and gluedare usefulenough to use again
Stirring Arsenic into a Milky WayI'm a slave to the spirits,Withering in the weary windThat winds 3,000 miles toRest at the molten seaSlash a scar in my star,ash-stained creamdousing the fire,you an icy hiss to the flames:memories in ashes.Crosshatch my flamesinto chambers of passionedheat. I stirred galaxiesof twilight into the apex of winter'sboiling point.Set to coolon the window sillstaring into the solitude.You are the drizzle thatslaps the glass with echoing words.I'm a selenium lord whoreflects upon values strongerthan a two-sided mirror.You collapsed upon yourself brighterthan a supernova of northern lights.Bring me into your singularity,Cygnus, and don't let go.If we are to become the debris of lightthen why not go intored shift?
InfiniteIt was denial,like lovers in a motel roomsearching for something beautiful.She had tattooed the universeon her back - pretended she was infinite,but in fact was trappedunder the weight of the world.