Seashells in all I do,
they lay at my feet,
the dramatic swirls,
the patterns thrown onto solid,
they consume my feet,

drown me at first tide.

I suppose I'm terrified to lay down,
where will I go if I sink?
But that's the risk I take
falling asleep by the ocean,
maybe I deserve that watery fate.
Maybe I deserved the crown
Like an oceanic queen,
gone mad.
I'm hoping
in my misery,
the sea will still have me.

time to pretend

I don't notice the winters sting
while I'm sitting on the cliffs of seasons past,
I don't recognize remorse
(not within myself at least)
I am watching this smoke
consume the clarity of todays air.
I shouldn't do this,
and I shouldn't do that.
But here I am, dying a day at a time-
giving a shit less about how fast it comes.
and while everything I used to know
remains teetering on the edge of this rock,
I am inventing new reasons to pretend I'm someone else.
I am convinced I am the peoples tether ball,
making my rounds,
and always returning to their fist.
I know how hard they hit,
and yet I continue to orbit on back.
how lonely is my life, hanging from a string?
At least I am incapable of falling,
(but completely capable of snapping.)
in their eyes,
I am a perfect sport.
But I don't notice much,
as a heat whore,
(Such am I)
it becomes more than easy to ignore red flags.
I simply need the heat to thrive.
I need to be hated,
to continue.
And now,
as I rise to my feet,
it's time to pretend I know nothing I've ever felt,
tie my knots tighter than before,
and swing.

It's raining

I fell asleep
next to my first love
for the first time.
He called me a cab,
because it was raining.
and impatiently waiting, in my pajamas,
I told the driver
It had been years.
My heart regresses to a smaller time,
when I knew nothing
about anything
but everything about him.
My body stayed strong,
While my mind wandered into oblivion.
holding him against my chest,
Because I needed to know
his heart was by mine again.
And even if it was just for a minute,
we were in love again.
When his lips
pressed against mine
a sigh of all sighs passed throughout me.
and I can't quite remember
if I even knew my name at the moment.
And when I think back,
I remember the taste of the rain,
but before I remember the taste of water,
I remember the taste of him.

So it's always been.

I hid my eyes from him,
in fear of him remembering I am not the one.
In fear of eternal loneliness after a glimpse of light.
In moments of weakness,
I held onto his shoulders,
and I felt the freckles on my chest
align, and combust.
Because with him,
everything within me,
is dying to be a part of him.
And I don't blame the feeling.
I blame him,
for being absolute comfort,
for being home of all homes,
for being a beautiful soul.
I remember being 14,
begging for a night with him,
just so I could know how it felt
to sleep soundly,
to know sleep at all.
But I find myself,
a woman now,
consumed with his energy,
and more awake than I've ever been.
When I look into his eyes,
I know I have seen beautiful things,
because I recall them instantly.
The way fog makes my skin feel,
the way sun melts fog,
the way the moon strikes down the sun,
and how beautiful life has always been.
How beautiful it appears
while he's gracing my skin
with the edge of his identity on the tip of his finger.
While he traces lace patterns on my naked back
of the wedding dress I had imagined myself
marrying him in.
as he kisses my stomach,
like I'm his first love.
In all the movement,
and in all the security of his touch,
I lay awake remembering the flowers
the flowers he sent me
when I was a girl.
And I know he sees me as her,
still young, still so young.
And I felt myself grabbing him tighter,
so he could feel me.
my hips
my breasts
my skin.
I am aged,
and I know
I know what I've done.
and I don't want to leave,
ever again.

but here he is,
I know every part by touch,

he is memorized by me,
I have memorized him,
like a verse you recite-
to keep you happy,
to keep you sane
to keep you breathing
to keep you loving
to keep you trying
he is-
remembered entirely,

-beautiful as always.
and it is raining.

Sainthood

Poetry; A saints knife.
Because I could have killed you,
a million years ago,
instead, I write.

goodnight

This is the most miserable world to fall in love in.
I imagine falling in love on the moon would be so much better.
at least on the moon,
no one wants to kill you twice.

but here,
everyone drools over their chance to kill you three times,
(at least.)

Now you've got what you've wanted,
let me sleep in peace.

sticks and stones

Call me names,
You've never once called me my own.
And for some reason,
I love it,
I love that you've never known me.

PROMISE

I wonder if I knew
knew what was to become of my heart
after the layers had been shed,
after the disaster hit,
after my brain melted into a scary stew.
I never want to feel another person waiting on me to sleep,
waiting for me to feel peaceful.
so they can close their own eyes,
and share dreaming space with me.

I never want a man that close to my dreams ever again.

I remember the sunshine,
seen straight through the veins of a maple leaf,
the sugary taste of fall,
the nutmeg high I sailed upon.
It comes and goes every now and then,
and in those moments,
I convince myself
love is all I need.

But then,
truth-
riding upon a deadly tsunami,
like the clap of mortality
ringing throughout my souls kingdom,
sweeping my feet from under my knees,
and landing me straight on my head
truth-
decides to appear,
reminding me;
in the blissful fall,
when I used to love,
where I used to trust,

I made my biggest mistake,

Unguarded, and in love,
I twisted my fingers in his earthy hair.
Promised him my heart,
and floating like a skin cell I could so easily shake,
my words stick to the grass,
my heart buried 10,000 feet below,
kept in a box,
marked "PROMISE".
A promise I made with my eyes closed tightly,
And even still,
no matter how dark my vision became within each blink,
I could see the clouds move,
just by feeling the shifts in the wind.
I didn't need to see,
to know I was telling the truth,
but the devil knows,
he was crossing his fingers the second he promised back.
So, no,
seasonal love,
no,
beautiful man
I don't trust your love,
or his love,
or any love.
I trust the company I keep between my hands and this paper,
my lungs and this air,
and that is all that remains certain.
there is no one,
no matter how bold,
no matter how beloved,
no matter how beautiful.
All I can do is feed off of the hearts that promised themselves to me,
700 hearts buried 10,000 feet below me
marked "PROMISE"
I crossed my fingers
as they closed their eyes so tight,

and all I wanted was to feel again,

700 hearts promised to me,
until I can bargain, haggle and bribe...
Until I find the price of my own.