like we promised
many years ago
to step on ground
but walk on
paper bombs, paper hearts
cut outs
a paper ending
fairy tale, worth telling
and in the final, princesses
meet their fairy frog
royal kissed prince
post change
i haven't changed much
since seventeen
screwed a few
lest then i'd like to admit
clever as i seem
seams ripping
skirt tucked under
broad daylight
panties
brilliance, drunk at her best
the wheels keep churning
and i am still screaming
neath the better of you
you're best sex
running other ways
seemingly best of me
since seventeen
screwed a few
lest then i'd like to admit
clever as i seem
seams ripping
skirt tucked under
broad daylight
panties
brilliance, drunk at her best
the wheels keep churning
and i am still screaming
neath the better of you
you're best sex
running other ways
seemingly best of me
lessons i'm learning
how the sky
is not always blue
the stars
are not always clear
my direction, imperfection
and unsettled resentment
wasn't it a little bit poorer
when i was somewhat rich
why you can't take a way
with words that pierce
i am humbled
i've been wrong
nothings lost but
what reigned must fall
like the gaze of your eyes
on the tip of my hat
when we passed for something
unsettling and harsh
as the present
i bare on my unwavering arms
called to force
for the wreckage
and reconciliation
i am learning what it means
to be without
withholding
withdrawing
from your ugly
which i learned to silence
so desperately as one
always wanting the betterment
for my love
in return.
is not always blue
the stars
are not always clear
my direction, imperfection
and unsettled resentment
wasn't it a little bit poorer
when i was somewhat rich
why you can't take a way
with words that pierce
i am humbled
i've been wrong
nothings lost but
what reigned must fall
like the gaze of your eyes
on the tip of my hat
when we passed for something
unsettling and harsh
as the present
i bare on my unwavering arms
called to force
for the wreckage
and reconciliation
i am learning what it means
to be without
withholding
withdrawing
from your ugly
which i learned to silence
so desperately as one
always wanting the betterment
for my love
in return.
turns, for a new path
turns onto a new road
where i do not cross the same paths
with you en toe
on street
i don't walk in stride with you
but murder you
with avengence
poof, and you're gone
where i do not cross the same paths
with you en toe
on street
i don't walk in stride with you
but murder you
with avengence
poof, and you're gone
even this
i find
the books still unfinished
goldmine of a gift sits right there
unwrapped and scientific
fiction, the author writes that
it's all about the very moment
this one in which we exist
you're trying to tell me something
about the way life is
about this person-present-tense i am
well, 18 books collecting in bare corners
a countless number of dust particles
and some 60 odd pages unread
later
it catches up to me, all that information
that i need is really already waiting here for me
because even poetry, gets old
after a while
the books still unfinished
goldmine of a gift sits right there
unwrapped and scientific
fiction, the author writes that
it's all about the very moment
this one in which we exist
you're trying to tell me something
about the way life is
about this person-present-tense i am
well, 18 books collecting in bare corners
a countless number of dust particles
and some 60 odd pages unread
later
it catches up to me, all that information
that i need is really already waiting here for me
because even poetry, gets old
after a while
i am one too
i made a mess-
take what's been undone
anything else we couldn't take back,
to make up the trust you had
we lost.
take what's been undone
anything else we couldn't take back,
to make up the trust you had
we lost.
true love
honey, drips slower
how it differs from blood
that's swelling, the pain
we take in when we see ourselves
in that burn, the hurt that was
caused by the moment this is
all that's explained is this
nothing else curls in on itself
but the death of flowers
the anthology of life that was
placed on the shelf,
where dust is collecting
til I come clean myself
and recover the knowledge of love
this is my self, the truth of it is
nothing you bring will ever quite sting
spares the brunt of it all
when you walk out the door
look in the mirror to discover
oneself is unclear to define
to anyone else I'm acute, I am kind
and she is loving and, has pride
her spirit deserves only love in return
and I am finding myself
while he showers her presence grows with wealth
we buy everything, now
assuming self worth is privy and prime, real
estate of the life only I get to choose
first, comes loving myself.
how it differs from blood
that's swelling, the pain
we take in when we see ourselves
in that burn, the hurt that was
caused by the moment this is
all that's explained is this
nothing else curls in on itself
but the death of flowers
the anthology of life that was
placed on the shelf,
where dust is collecting
til I come clean myself
and recover the knowledge of love
this is my self, the truth of it is
nothing you bring will ever quite sting
spares the brunt of it all
when you walk out the door
look in the mirror to discover
oneself is unclear to define
to anyone else I'm acute, I am kind
and she is loving and, has pride
her spirit deserves only love in return
and I am finding myself
while he showers her presence grows with wealth
we buy everything, now
assuming self worth is privy and prime, real
estate of the life only I get to choose
first, comes loving myself.
play on words>>press on
The Stop button
like the roadways are
frozen, over.
you say,
since you've left
my muse is a carpet
my canvas, it's blank
a blanket
in white covers and
sea shells that depict
our story in cigarette shorts
that were intended and clipped,
becoming only ruins, on accident-
would become our ashes
and still, as the sheets are pretty,
we are like the streets
an open, icy, unsafe abyss
at our indulgence that winter
that harbors the crazed
only so many eat inns until we relinquish
from the depths of that cold
that which we couldn't
control, though i'd beg to differ
the bitterness of endings
and certain as i was to believe that
i would need be relentless but true
but i knew, even then that this city
though tireless, couldn't save us.
like the roadways are
frozen, over.
you say,
since you've left
my muse is a carpet
my canvas, it's blank
a blanket
in white covers and
sea shells that depict
our story in cigarette shorts
that were intended and clipped,
becoming only ruins, on accident-
would become our ashes
and still, as the sheets are pretty,
we are like the streets
an open, icy, unsafe abyss
at our indulgence that winter
that harbors the crazed
only so many eat inns until we relinquish
from the depths of that cold
that which we couldn't
control, though i'd beg to differ
the bitterness of endings
and certain as i was to believe that
i would need be relentless but true
but i knew, even then that this city
though tireless, couldn't save us.
that's when
when the amber turned to ashes
that's when
i realize
people see themselves
so different
than i see,
them
myself
that's when
i realize
people see themselves
so different
than i see,
them
myself
can't name you quite yet
this is
the fragility of my hands
the weakness of my gut
the thrashing of my blood
this is the signature
in my stance
the quiet of my lash
the angular inversion
of rash
this is the piercing
caused by tongues
the clenching pain
that's rough
the cluching of your arm
against the past
this is the outburst
from the last
that effectiveness of wrongs
the outdoing pulled away
with tongs
this is not meant to make sense
senseless, against your wish
here, a riot, comes the poet,
in quiet prose, not banter-
less, meaningless it was
all written, as simple, in poem
the fragility of my hands
the weakness of my gut
the thrashing of my blood
this is the signature
in my stance
the quiet of my lash
the angular inversion
of rash
this is the piercing
caused by tongues
the clenching pain
that's rough
the cluching of your arm
against the past
this is the outburst
from the last
that effectiveness of wrongs
the outdoing pulled away
with tongs
this is not meant to make sense
senseless, against your wish
here, a riot, comes the poet,
in quiet prose, not banter-
less, meaningless it was
all written, as simple, in poem
it's like
the three of us look for something more
like we know waitin on this track
means lately we've been having
to wait longer than usual for the train.
like we know waitin on this track
means lately we've been having
to wait longer than usual for the train.
unfortunate interruption
when i cracked open
this bottle of shampoo
i didn't think it'd last
longer than this friendship
now all i have to say is
fuck me!
cuz i still want to
fuck you.
this bottle of shampoo
i didn't think it'd last
longer than this friendship
now all i have to say is
fuck me!
cuz i still want to
fuck you.
Gone Home
It was not long ago that I felt the pain of a narrative --- assigned female, my life has been a race for my body parts, to raise me beyond any heterosexual identity means to abandon this lifestyle and gendered roles that were ascribed to me at birth.
It was not until leaving New York for a fresh start in Chicago that I found a community that I belonged to without conforming. I was able to take ownership of my past, history and fears that still haunt me today as I tread through these snowy New York City streets. As I begin reflecting on my relationship to New York and my history that since leaving I've found less painful to dismiss, I realize that New York has the same potential for me, for anybody really and I must, if I will, confront this city as mine own if I am to ensure that others like me forge courage to build community.
On Friday I went to the bar. woah heterosexual. woah. Here goes, I think as I wonder how I will ever make a vacation out of this week.
flash back, get back, you can't go back to what were then- who are we now?
the questions go further but it's just been futile.
i've just been cruel and relinquish all control
chose escapism, and alcohol and pills, bet
you won't recognize me now
but you look at the mess i made
for who am i and how are you-
ever going to forgive me? i must, if i will maintain this and i must come, honest with
you, watch
as you fight for your stakes in this, claim me, yell about how i failed you
i already believe you
like i have been
ruined, irresponsible, guilty as charged
hurt in betrayals
what was this anyway i cry
but your sex isn't enough,
couldn't you have mentioned that?
you love me. before quitting this,
you realized how long ago you began
quitting me
hearsay tells me words are going to sting, bite at the temptation
lustful, desire me to take a knife in my back for what rings true,
to you, who say you could have loved me if i hadn't
but you don't, and i did
now i'm just wrapped in plastic and dumped
down the garbage shoot where i smell all the revenge
i didn't get to taste, that i'll never get back.
if i never get there -
back to the place of this play that tells me, i am unsafe,
i am invisible, i am unworthy and worth less each day. so he did it, he traced me, made me believe, in warmth of small hands and arms shorter than the length of embrace, in love, in co-existing both types. scripted sculptures of which i imitate with the gendered body that is not my own but belongs to you now and in the morning, i will wake to regret him. i will regret to inform you and i will be brave - i will protest what is at stake, my life. i will hate myself for spoiling anything that remains safe, quiet but these are things we create that we're willing to risk livelihood for. This is one love that I won't take and i grant you peace in silence though the solace of our existance as fluid bound is ruined in what the truth of it necessitates-
that i tell you even if i believe you hate me, you will not be back for me but you love me so i believe we will make it, and together re-build a mountain of trust
we cannot climb haphazardly.
It was not until leaving New York for a fresh start in Chicago that I found a community that I belonged to without conforming. I was able to take ownership of my past, history and fears that still haunt me today as I tread through these snowy New York City streets. As I begin reflecting on my relationship to New York and my history that since leaving I've found less painful to dismiss, I realize that New York has the same potential for me, for anybody really and I must, if I will, confront this city as mine own if I am to ensure that others like me forge courage to build community.
On Friday I went to the bar. woah heterosexual. woah. Here goes, I think as I wonder how I will ever make a vacation out of this week.
flash back, get back, you can't go back to what were then- who are we now?
the questions go further but it's just been futile.
i've just been cruel and relinquish all control
chose escapism, and alcohol and pills, bet
you won't recognize me now
but you look at the mess i made
for who am i and how are you-
ever going to forgive me? i must, if i will maintain this and i must come, honest with
you, watch
as you fight for your stakes in this, claim me, yell about how i failed you
i already believe you
like i have been
ruined, irresponsible, guilty as charged
hurt in betrayals
what was this anyway i cry
but your sex isn't enough,
couldn't you have mentioned that?
you love me. before quitting this,
you realized how long ago you began
quitting me
hearsay tells me words are going to sting, bite at the temptation
lustful, desire me to take a knife in my back for what rings true,
to you, who say you could have loved me if i hadn't
but you don't, and i did
now i'm just wrapped in plastic and dumped
down the garbage shoot where i smell all the revenge
i didn't get to taste, that i'll never get back.
if i never get there -
back to the place of this play that tells me, i am unsafe,
i am invisible, i am unworthy and worth less each day. so he did it, he traced me, made me believe, in warmth of small hands and arms shorter than the length of embrace, in love, in co-existing both types. scripted sculptures of which i imitate with the gendered body that is not my own but belongs to you now and in the morning, i will wake to regret him. i will regret to inform you and i will be brave - i will protest what is at stake, my life. i will hate myself for spoiling anything that remains safe, quiet but these are things we create that we're willing to risk livelihood for. This is one love that I won't take and i grant you peace in silence though the solace of our existance as fluid bound is ruined in what the truth of it necessitates-
that i tell you even if i believe you hate me, you will not be back for me but you love me so i believe we will make it, and together re-build a mountain of trust
we cannot climb haphazardly.
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