i apologize in advance
to any boy that shares your name
but you've soiled it
and i'm sorry to all you boys out there
but you can't reclaim it for me if you tried
one of those filler things i do sometimes
mother,mother, here are some truths
i love you
you are one of the most selfless people i know
but you are also one of the most selfish
i can never remember your birthday
i started the laundry today just before you got home
despite your telling me to start it at 9am
i almost didn't even make it to my own graduation
people are peoplei think sometimes we forget that whenever we say goodbye to someone for the night and they go home, they don't just fold up in their cars and lie dormant until we see them again.
they go home and get into a fight with their mother, make a peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwich and only eat half of it, and toss the rest in the trash. they flip on their favorite cd and pretend that they are in another town, far away where people see them as a person and not just this two dimensional character cut-out of wood and existing only to tell stories and smile.
and then they fall asleep and dream about flying and breathing clearly without a catch in their chest that can only be fixed with a strong hug.
we keep forgetting that people are people and that they are full of colors and feelings and thoughts, because any other day they are just gray faces only highlighted when we need them.
a stranger in the car across the intersection is only that, someone we don't know and don't really care about u
letters to boysdear ginger,
i’d rather be a pretty pink princess
who reads comic books
and pisses you off
than ever be that girl again
who tried too hard to be what you wanted
and never what i wanted
dear swedish boy,
i swore to alannah
that i wouldn't write about you anymore
i would stop living in a time of two years ago
because you left
you're not coming back into my life
veni vidi vici
i think this is the last time
words about your bright blue eyes
and the impeccable smile
your love for disney and art and roses and paper things
will be released from my fingertips
i loved you
i love you
i loved you
but you are four thousand five hundred seven hundred and two miles away
(at the present moment)
and so we shall rotate in these imperfect circles
and i am done with words for you
and i am done with words for him, too
he wasn't nearly as special as you
but i let him in anyway
my words are no longer for boys who couldn't stay
they are for me
thinkthinkthinkthe boy sitting behind me on this bouncywobbly bus is tenderly nursing a broken heart in his hands. he's been carrying it around for weeks now, letting it collect dirt and dust and sadness. the girl sitting in front of me used to be his, and she is laughingsmilingshrieking. i don't see how it's really fair, but i talked to him that one day and we hurt together and i'll cry if i keep thinking about it.
today, i am disjointed from everyone, everything. i don't think i could find the right words to say even if they were splayed out in front of me. if someone asked me to describe myself, i'd have nothing to say, nothing positive anyways. i'm not sure why i'm sad again but maybe it's because i keep getting disappointed by little things and i'm not surprised enough by the big ones.
i can't remember the last time i felt beautiful outside of my own house, and i don't know if i'll ever feel that way again. my leg is burning from a scratch all the way down my thigh, and i can't recall how it got
concerning my sanitythis week
my self-dressed doubts
hidden in your driftwood bones
as a parable of humankind
she learned to sing from the
ocean and the cold sand
all the things i've never seen or been
i'm sorry i never told you
tonight i'll tie a ribbon
round my bed-frame
pretend i'm a garden spade
and i'll dig a hole
to antartica or maybe
an adventurer doesn't need
a burly chest
or fancy stache
i'd rather he be one foot tall
people are only afraid of
and quiet with themselves -
not of spiders
we are invincible and beautiful
when we smile
not when we take
power-trips to spain
if i told the world i loved it
i could only hope
for a whisper in return
HappyCan people explode from too much sunlight in their hearts?
I'm starting to remember what it's like
to sing and smile and just not care if there are monsters and
crooked salesmen hiding under my bed
(Maybe they're just lonely)
Je ne regrette rien
Nope, I'm perfectly dandy and wild and
Will you look at yourself, dear?
Please, turn to that mirror there
and let's discuss
just how lovely you are, yes, you!
I think if everyone just stopped
and listened to a happy song
Oldies, especially everyday
We wouldn't have so many sad faces and eyes
turned to the ground
I just like seeing you smile
Is that selfish?
Well I hope not because I don't want to take anything from
Let's just grab new hands
Go streaking for all I care
(And no I haven't done that yet but would you like to?)
We can build a fort out of blankets and stay up late
telling stories about men with long beards and
girls who don't know how to spell
smile for me
I don't think you kn
QuietI try to be quiet and not step on the toes of lovers as I pass them through gardens and under bridges and over city streets. I tried to be quiet so no one would notice the tall girl who has never held hands with anyone. I don't want to be seen, I want to be quiet.
I could be like the mice that scurry about in old houses and the shadows of an old forgotten swing on gravel. I'd like to be these things, because then I could help the people who are all yellow school buses and parking lights and root beer floats. I like to see their lives mix around and work out how they're meant to, because then mine can too. But it can never be the other way around.
I tried to be quiet but he wouldn't let me and now I'm only back where I started. I thought maybe someone in this world wanted to be quiet with me but he stood in front of me and started to yell with his camera and beard and bright eyes flashing at everyone, everything, snapsnapsnapsnapclickfweeclick.
Sometimes I visit antique shops with my pa
pretentious pricki want
to burn all of your shit
it is in the next room over
run my fingers along the wood of your
caress it in my arms
like you used to do to me
and then take it to the back window
of your fucking ugly red car
it's not even that
nice of a car
you pretentious prick
i could burn up that painting
i made for you
for christmas last year
snap the dvd i bought you
in half and use it to rip up your clothes
wreck every single bit of you
like you did to me
and you keep doing
you said you're not selfish
that i was the only one to think so
you didn't even wait
and i'm here starving as a stupid
that's been captive so long
i don't know how to function without your hand
upon my back
i could wreck you
tear you apart
make you fucking miserable
but i won't
because i'm not you
and i swear
oh i swear upon this universe
i will not be like you
immortalthe thing is, with me,
you need never worry about being forgotten in this world.
i have immortalized each and every one of you somehow
with my words.
i've caught the way you take in a sharp breath
when you see something beautiful and
how he held a gun in his hands and
how the light caught the fear mingling in his eyes.
although one day i shall fade to dust
and the world shall forget all that i am
and ever was,
it shall never forget those whom i love
because i have written in your important bits
so that the world shall never forget the way you smiled or
how your words were always simple but meant more than i could ever mean.
Astrali'm the seraphic
a hallowed body
like i am hellbent on
butterfly kisseshe told me he played tic-tac-toe on his arm
with a razorblade once
and showed me the scars to prove it
i grazed my fingers over his forearm
marked with faint white lines
that made me scared i would lose him someday
and i thought back to that one time
when he was drunk and i could hear
the urgency in his voice as he stood on a ledge
but all i could feel was his heart beating faster then
when i touched the stories permanently inscribed
in his skin
and his left hand tracing the outline of my jaw
and even the tickle of his eyelashes against my cheek
as we sat in the backseat of his nissan.
RJGreta oto. They are found down in Venezuela all the way to Panama. A member of the brush-footed butterfly family. Only two inches long in wingspan. They're my favorite insect.
I met a man once and he wanted to leave everything. He had a bottle in his hand and I was afraid he was going to inhale it all and let his light go out like I'd seen so many go before.
I told him he couldn't leave, because then he would never get to see these fascinating and beautiful butterflies from down south. The butterflies with glass wings that are only two inches wide with tiny bodies.
He asked me if that was my only reason to still be here, a tiny little insect. I told him, no, not really, but it was a reason. One of many, I guess. I stayed up with him all night, and I don't think I've ever been more exhausted in my life.
He told me about the things he had seen and done and felt and I wished my whole heart out that things like wars and sadness and emptiness didn't have to exist. I'll never know what it's
bon appetitshe extracts her heart
from her cavernous center
like a no-good tooth.
coughing, she serves it up
on fine painted ceramics.
he lifts his fork,
spears the meat.
chewing, jaw swaying,
he samples a bite.
then he frowns
and spits into
what hell really isthe week before my pictures
for my freshman year of high school
i got the worst haircut ever
my mom tried to cut my bangs and
they were sideways like my sight
and the lady at the hairdressers only made it worse
so on my id, i was a girl with braces
a terrible haircut
and a face that didn't know how to wear makeup
and i guess that sums up my freshman year
i tripped through the year
because i didn't know any better
and then sophomore year came along
i felt prettier, a little more steady
i met a boy and i was strange
and people laughed at me
and i spent most of my time
excusing myself to bathroom stalls during challenge biology
and geometry I
to burst into flames against the door
and wish that i was anywhere else
let me be anywhere else
because i knew hell as a high school bathroom stall
and then junior year came along
and that was okay
but most days i sat by myself at lunch
and tried to not feel so ugly
i don't remember much from that year honestly
i spent a lot of time
Ugly ThingsSometimes it is impossible to tell when your life is changing.
That was not the case with me.
"I'm not afraid," you screamed, and I thought you were crazy.
We were standing on an empty stage, looking out at the world, if the world were an ocean of red plastic chairs.
"Just because we broke in to the school's auditorium doesn't mean we have anything to be afraid of," I said, still catching my breath after the adrenaline rush.
"I know. This place just makes me want to scream, it's so big."
I tested myself as I spun halfway around, now facing the back of the stage. Arms outstretched, I reached for something, although I never figured out just what that was.
You looked at me like I was crazy. "What are you doing?"
I wanted to respond with something profound, like "Living," but I let the silence hang as I kept spinning. The stage made me want to.
"I think this is my favorite place in the world," you said. "It's so big. Outside feels so small, but in here the bigness is everyw
this way you wouldn't have to screamframing this is like cutting up the strips
of her shredded shirt, and
"this isn't blood," she would say
even though he's pretty sure
(take your time at the station crossing,
bird wings soaring against gravity,
owing the Earth everything for flight,
but corduroy suns aren't warm enough,
and mis-named chords are breathing down his neck,
directly: fading at the hands of paper and ink
"this isn't blood" he says
even though she's pretty sure
You can't breathe in space."You can't breathe in space. It's not like suffocating because someone puts a pillow over your head, or drowning in the ocean. You breathe out a lungful of oxygen and then there's nothing at all to breathe back in."
I took a step away from the captain's station, looking around at the gathered crew, all twenty-six of them at attention. Everything seems so light, as if the entire room is full of lens flare. The ship has just been commissioned, and the crew, in jumpsuits of blue, grey, and red, listen with grave seriousness. I am near the end of my talk, the seemingly endless parade of regulations and clarifying tales all captains are required to tell their crew. Misconceptions are common, even after all the training.
"Unlike some stories say," I continue, "you don't explode, and your blood doesn't boil. You just stop breathing. You turn blue, and you try to cry or scream, but there's no sound in a vacuum. You lose consciousness, and then you die.
"Even if you're brought back, oxyg
HelplessShe wears a heart upon her sleeve
And cries at night, just thanking me
For how I showed her dying art
How far, how far, how far we are
But listening to her broken heart
Has let me know now I can't start
And finally I understand
How far, how far, how far we are
If I could look into the sky
And find the pieces that have flown so high
Then I might fix her broken heart
Then I might catch that nearest star
And tell her that we're close
Silent skies and broken hearts
We are furthest from the stars
And so I'll just listen to her tears
And fail to comfort all her fears
We'll Move On (Mostly)My heart is settled on repeating itself
I haven't made my mind up;
Irrationality has become my calling card
I think I'm going crazy
Well how do I explain this?
I don't know what I'd do
(I don't know, not without you)
But screwing up and breaking names
Is all I'm good at anymore.
If I lose it all I wonder,
Should I even care?
They're starting to say
I've lost it all
(my heart, my money,
and my whole mind)
I don't think I believe them.
I'm as sane as a bat,
Twice as old and
three times as broken.
I'm reading books and
Falling so far behind,
Wishing you would break my heart.
I'll live with or without you,
And even though I want your hand
I hope you hate me (I hope you can)
I'm leaving now
I'm on my way, and nothing's
Going to slow me down.
I have my goals,
I have my fight
Whatever I lose,
I won't lose sight
Of who I am
Or who I want to be.
I'm going to be the man,
My girl, the man I want to be
I love you but I won't say so,
I'll write for you and you won't read,
But I broke your heart, (a
metre.madefour black marks on
melting into the levels
at your feet
can't have time,
can't have money,
sipping cold hot chocolate
and renouncing Arthur's soul
or circle -
missed the train,
but she'll come back around
Don't LeaveJust because I never
Kissed you when you asked
Just because I couldn't
Quite complete the task
It's just why
I'll end up alone
It's just why
I can't pick up the phone
But it's okay
I'll meet you in my dreams
I don't care
If I'm tearing at the seams
If ignorance is bliss
Than I'm right where I belong
I don't want to be right
If living like this is wrong
I'll ignore and I'll ignore
You when the sun holds up the sky
But once the sun goes down, girl
I'll give you every minute of the night
Just because I failed
What I didn't achieve
Honey you're what I dream about
So please don't leave.
BittersweetI'll make you fall in love with my sweet lies
And the way I kiss you every night.
(I'll keep your fears away,
but there's no truth behind these eyes)
I'm gonna break your heart, no doubt
Better stay away from me or you'll find out
Just how much those pretty blues can cry.
(But maybe in the meantime I can teach you how to fly)
selenium hand grenadesI.
neon lights and cigarette-flavored
lips together, hands buried in the leather
pockets of these never-lovers, these
cinder block hunters made into
cinders: only frostbite breath and
army jackets to keep them warm.
retaliating right angles are the ones
that angels can't compose; we are the sharp ones,
destined for single atom collisions and never
fitting, never getting quite close
breathing in the years like the clouds
of your breath,
dressed in cocaine ribbons just to shine
like plastic diamonds, damn all this fucking
estuary sand and this brackish
taste; this former age of elocutionary
sins is forever gone -
cars as coffins: the mud will take us in
as family, and drag us out to sea
with vows that mean more
than paper tongues ever will.
tonight's the nightand when I kissed her
I could feel a dry spot on her lip
and tasting of longing it disappeared,
under waves of desire unsatisfied.
and I like to hear her breathe
when she lies next to me
it sounds like comfort, closeness, warmth
the sounds of the city locked down inside her lungs.
(while I sleep like a car accident
restless with my discontent
and the uncouth images of her
within my arms, entwined with all my insecurity)
and I can hear the sound
of butterflies scraping against my chest
a gentle poisoning of a soft caress
the sorts of things that lovers do and don't forget.