i. sometimes you hold my hand and my heart feels full to bursting and I cannot breathe. my chest hurts and all I want to do is let go but baby, your hands are so warm and I need a little kindling.
ii. I know we’re not supposed to be saved by other people. I know I’m not broken. all I’m saying is, maybe you make it a little easier for me to find myself again. when my pulse thrums faster around you, I know I’m alive.
iii. thank you for making me smile just a little more. thank you for letting me, for so many moments, be genuinely happy. my cheeks ache around you and there has never been a better pain.
THIS IS NOT A LOVE POEM, I SWEAR IT’S NOT, Venetta O.
She runs her fingers through your hair, and you do not know how the earth existed before her.
There is stardust in her eyes and lava flowing through her bones.
You think, there is no world without her.
You think, without her, there would be no colors, no butterflies, no air.
She is fiery red and calming blue and everything in between, and she is the reason for it all.
She is doe-eyed gaze, and you go blind for everything but her.
You need her to breathe, no, to live, to love.
Without her, your heart would not scream her name.
You could never live in that kind of a world.
I said I’d never write another poem about you,
but everything is a metaphor for the way that we left each other.
Birds flying south for the winter. Rivers running to the sea.
The moon stuck struggling in its orbit
and never really going anywhere
The other day a coworker asked me how you’ve been
and I thought that he was joking. It took me
a full minute to put it together.
I’ve gotten so good about not flinching at the sound of your name
that people don’t know I’d still throw myself
mouth-open into the ocean
for the chance to drown somewhere you might see it.
Between the pages of an unwritten book,
You’ll find the life of two girls.
The darker one has a pen in her hand
She can write you a memoir in under an hour,
Her full lips can tell you the secret of life.
The taller one has a camera hanging from her neck
She can show you the nasty side of the world,
But her chubby arms know exactly when to hug you.
The one with the pen keeps on writing about the pictures,
The one with the camera won’t shut up about the poems.
In between these pages, in between these girls
You’ll find hate and guilt and anger and frustration,
But they are friends.
They have long ago mastered the art of finding each other
They have memorized the way out
Of the labyrinth of each others hearts.
They have been in this for far too long,
They are in this way too deep.
“Poison or friendship?” they ask themselves everyday. (quitefearless)
You look at her for just a moment, and you realize how you could never let her go.
She is sparkling eyes and gentle smile, and she is life itself.
For you, she is in every breath, in every heartbeat.
Without her, you think, you would be blind.
She is the burning sun in this dark world, and you do not know how to survive when she is not by her side.
You do not know what you will do when she is gone.
People always say that another person can’t complete you.
And you can’t let them complete you because it’ll destroy you.
But he did complete me, and to be honest, it felt so fucking good that I let him.
It didn’t destroy me as much as I thought it did.
Sometimes, when you look at her, you learn what it means to live all over again.
She is sun-kissed cheeks and ocean eyes, and there is something beautiful about it all.
When your lips are on hers, you think you can taste a hint of hibiscus.
She touches you, and you see the world for all its brightness.
She touches you, and you see nothing but her.
It could be the way her hair cascades to the ground, or the way the earth seems to curl up to meet her.
You say her name, and she blossoms before your very eyes.
She takes your hand in yours, and the sunshine has never felt so right.
Somehow, she has made her way into the cracks of your heart, and she will never leave.
Come to me with your head bowed.
Come to me with your battle and your blood,
with your teeth full of fight,
with your gut spread out on the kitchen floor:
all those love letters you pulled out of the inside of yourself.
Come to me with your anxiety and your panic.
Come to me with your grey areas
and I will greet you with glitter.
I will greet you like Venus in her clam shell.
All I have to offer you is everything.