Lost

I am lost
In myself,
In oceans
Of your touch,
Memories
Of your lips
Slip
From my fingers
Crashing to the floor
Like plates
On the night
You didn’t make it back.
Or pictures,
Frames ready
For our wedding,
An aisle
We never made it down.
Beyond
You and I
There’s a plan.
Why else
Would we still
Get lost
In one another’s eyes.

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I Am

I am broken bloodied nails on a brick wall
The last attempt to make the world see.
I am lines and lines and lines of cocaine
Drowning the scorching pain.
I am silent screams never heard over rumbling trains
Regrets forever tied to the rusting dying tracks.
I am lanes of cars aimlessly flying towards oblivion
Wind blown and unable to turn away, no looking back.
I am thousands of black holes existing in one
Roaring, devouring every soul.
I am the oceans weaving, waving edge
Morphing, consuming, land and sky.
I am a body in a shallow grave
Eyes open, tongue split and breath spent,
I am a girl with a carefully laced valentine
Waiting, waiting, but I’m afraid this is it.

Blissfully Unaware

I can’t think of anything to write … I just finished round 1 of 10 weeks of econometrics (with a B!). I was certain I would fail and I’d be crying in a dark corner over being kicked out of my program. But that combined with the insanely busy work load I’ve had for months means now that I have a few moments for my brain to not go 1000 miles a minute I’ve completely crashed on the creativity front.

This was originally published on The Perfectly Imperfect Bunch last year.

Today is a weird day.
Everyone is skipping down the street …
There’s a lady selling flowers.
Except she’s tossing them in the air
As she makes flying ballet leaps.
The homeless guy on the corner
Is pawning a frog
Dressed like James Dean
And singing a Sinatra beat.
“Come one, come all!”
He screams
“This frog is just like me!”
The buses are floating,
The cars are skidding
To a hip hop tune.
What is happening here?
The sidewalk leads me away
With a tantalizing figure
In a red dress and a cane.
Like smoke she floats
Through the veins
Infecting this weird day.
Into a hole she beckons,
A dark room on the other side
Of all we know.
Picasso paintings play cards
With dogs in dapper vests,
And there’s my siren
In a red dress.
Weaving through the liquor,
Dancing by the stairs,
We’re blissfully unaware.

Maybe we’re blissfully unaware of our weirdness?

Maybe we just don’t care?

Indigo Eyes

You’ll never speak to the same face twice.
We’ll never say our names.
Here we exist in states of disarray,
Coming and going as our costumes fade.
We hide in shadows, masking true intentions.
You’ll never see one undressed,
No, you’ll never see one undone.
Here we hide behind indigo eyes
While it rains little white lies.

Capsizing Breath

Your absence sucks the warmth from these sheets,

Curling between my thigh’s, roping around my fingers

Still trembling and gasping

From gentle tugs and rasping bites

Along edges of bone and light

I am frozen on capsizing breath

Of the last words we said

While these sheets of your sighs,

Of our eyes

Forever taking one another in,

Hold me hostage, wrapping around my legs, binding my wrists,

Against the warmth you float away with.

Vague