We are ribbons in-between
ribbons,
in between ribbons,
we are ribbons in-between
ribbons,
in between ribbons,
we are tests,
we pull eyelets
together,
we test circles
of steel
circles,
we pull eyelets
together,
we test circles
of steel
circles,
in between ribbons
we are together
in between ribbons,
we are ribbons,
in between
steel.

lackadaisy
farmer raised me
don’t squander seed
to eat from greed

You will not find
me living in the fragrance
of morning’s last mistake.
(It is lonesome
in this box of pins.)
You will not find me
an apparition of dead
love.
(It was all a dream.)
You will not find me
at all
as I exist where the bees
go after first sting.
It is difficult to
tell the dead from
the living
and I am just beginning
to turn the wind.

bones crack with movement
twisted spine [someone please
                      straighten it out  ]

i am too young to be this old
        too old to be this young.

we turn into pages
the skin of trees
the ink of a story
being written.

seventy's stars still shine

staring at the stars
beauty beyond my grasp
running barefoot on wet grass
blades stuck between my toes
sticking to the top of my feet
the sixties sticking
to my tiny bell bottoms
running until my toes were numb
running until I kicked something hard
bleeding numb and lost
staring at the sky
halos teardrops and stars
I loved running as a kid
dreaming with the night
I still run as a man,
but I do it differently
and for different reasons

some times with long memories.

Here I am, I said. I wanted victory and
received Victory! I needed your
jaws more than crushing defeat. Taste me. 

You know how your red toes touch the sky
and I can hardly think of anything else
when I see blood in the sun, painting 
clouds rusty and wretched for me. You 
know I’d rather be empty than lonely, 
and I need to promise you
a thousand times —I promise you with 
million words in your native tongue that 
that is not the reason I swallow you whole.

The sky lies too much for you to 
believe it. Is that why you love it? (do you love me?) 
What can I dress it with 
that will make that question less earthly. I
am hungry for sea and stars and 
you guiding me home. You are
still sick off the pits in my stomach that
neither of us can stop devouring. How could we?
They taste like sweet peaches
and the first morning after we met. 9:55 What time is it
over there? 
10:00 Oh. I’m going to spam your inbox like a weirdo. 
10:01 I hope you don’t mind. 
10:01 I love the thought of
sleeping in your arms. 
10:02 I’m sorry. 

(you were 
all I ever needed and you
were never enough.)

(I was 
worse than being empty but
better than being lonely, 
sometimes.)

Four

I. I never feel bad that I almost
 knocked you down an entire flight of
apartment building stairs because
you grabbed at me first, and
then you told me three very important truths.
First, you hate me.
Second, you’re proud to finally see me
defending my own body.
Lastly, I better never fucking
defend my body from you ever again.

II. Every time you told me to suck your dick
I wanted to tear off your foreskin
with my teeth just to spit it back in your face,
but I always swallowed instead.

III. It was always alright when you’d hold me
at the end of our longest days and
tell me that you’re sorry for hurting me,
that you don’t know how else to love me.
Forgiveness grew from my fingertips
like the poetry I stopped writing so
I had the energy left to touch your face.

IV. I want to carve your name on top of mine
into the bark of an old white ash and
remember the way I swore I never loved you.
I’ll cross us out nine times deep -
eight for every time I heard you
wish out loud that I was worth it,
and once for the realization that you weren’t.

Here's to your lover.

Your thumb freckle,
On his khakis.

Your glitter speckles,
Cause you’re happiest

Sticking to automatic.
The labor of shifting,

Sounds static,
Next to the sifting

Amidst your legs,
And his eye on the pries.

No one begs,
No one ties.

Jump Over the Shadows and Into Your Covers

Night is no more
different
than

day in the way
that shade shelters
trees from sun
streams, but nothing
changes,
nothing leaves,

and yet we are trained
at a young (& undetermined)
age to fear
the floors of what we cannot
see;

we’ve created children
who sync sadness
with darkness/
we’ve created children
who cannot
move beyond this.

No one notices
the edges of things—
how a paper cut
could sever
the flesh in such
a way that the sting
converts the eyes
into rivers
and the brow to stretch
into highways.
No one notices
the edge.
Where the shadow
is imbibed by melancholy
and it threatens to jump
from these bones.

If every rocky boat
had rattled each of my 
heavy cages
the way you did, 

I would be 
living off lonely reeds, 
and you would never
have noticed
ripples outside hollow stems

where water
rummaged though my bars.

Back against the moon;
The world was my shadow.
Heard a heavenly tune;
The night silenced my sorrow.
I will look up at high noon,
For what is left of tomorrow.

chilly shrike.

I am more lonely
than fragile.

—You’re the bull on fire, 
I’m covered in 
oil’s blood, and we
are more lucky
than each other, 
and I 
despise you more than
you like
the sight of your
perfectly cold china chattering. 

Paradise

Strawberry velour bustiers
moonlight, distressed denim
half hearted smiles
and smirks meant to
inflame, to ignite —
nibbling fire and chasing
tangents
men in tuxes and wry expressions
staring down the angels
in patent leather —
saintly in satin underthings —
like innocence —
clearly made
to be removed.

“I can scratch my own back and rub my own feet Zip up my own dress walk myself down the street So For that, I don't need a husband for company (I have a heart sticky like tar I have myself both near and far) But I'll leave my gentle heart hoping. Besides, I have yet to open that pickle jar... 6/24/13”

—“Tar” by Tatianna

There Is No Catcher In The Rye

i want you in your rawest form
let’s exhaust each other

i was an angel-haired girl chasing permanence through rye fields
i kept falling off the other end
there was no one there to catch me 

everything and everyone you admire is a lie i promise
you’ll meet them and realize they were so much taller on paper

here’s the problem you’re a superhero 
then the person you love is in trouble no it doesnt matter trouble of any kind
they can’t get to work and need a ride they’re locked out of their house they’re
father won’t stop using them as a dartboard to drill his anger towards
but for some pathetic mundane extenuating circumstance
you could not help them;
you’re car was in the shop you were out of town that day you were too fucking scared
and now you’re so 
inadaquately
human

every time i’ve ever fallen out of love
and sunken into a sallow bitter cavern where it’s always dark always their face on every wide-staring wall 
it’s been because i started relying on them for important things
(my happiness my sustenance a reason to wake up)

but we are machines with all faulty cogs and we’re too stingy to spring for oil
and we all should’a just stayed unexcavated in
the ground. 

in the lap of the looking glass lake

I lie on my back

shoulder blades clinging to

the cool monument stone

the edges are sharp and the lights

are like a warm lighting strike

that stops my heart

Starsze posty...