why is it so hard
to sleep next to you
anymore?
i wake, finally,
and you smile
with empty eyes
and i feel nothing
i feel nothing from you
i have come to need
what leaves me
so alone.
i am writing
fragments instead
of poetry.
will you still
love me this way?
it hurts and
i am tempted
to stop this
bullshit way of
living, barely eating,
just waiting for
your praises and
second glances. i
felt you grip
my sides harder
now that there
is less to
hold, less to
fill up clothes,
less reminders of
how you could
have all the
pretty things you
could hold, regretting
how you chose
me. but i
am sinking in,
my bones can
feel your touch
again, and you
still won’t say
a goddamn thing.
the first
time we
made love
i was
paralyzed, lying
underneath your
warm breaths
with heartbeats
pulsing and
legs shaking
not from
pleasure, but
from shock
at the
way your
simplest touch
was laced
with such
a fervid
need to
hear my
most guttural
blisses; confessions.
you rid
me of
flowers and
replace his
name with
yours.
(hand in hand)
you: the siren,
i: the temptress
though you have won
everything & i nothing
but a home in depths
of despair and thus
our game ends: becoming
more, becoming us,
and i am satisfied.
nothing more than
fiction turned fact
nothing more than
star vs moon
i have made you as you
have made me,
and you are not satisfied.
for you it is settling
into the least of
what-could-haves
with stroked-spine love
and upturned hair,
with beds of rain
and forcefully locked
little fingers, or something,
but we will be satisfied.
carve your name back
into my skin
so i won’t forget when
you’re gone.
taciturn,
i’ve turned cold
from hollow bones
& years spent
just keeping close,
wishing things
had stayed the same and
needing to hear
my own name,
but now we’ve drawn
the final lines,
i promise to map us
right this time,
though i’m not alone in
lying.
i still hear your
grinding teeth,
wading through false
truths you keep to
sort through in your dreams,
but the water’s high
and you cant swim,
and i won’t stand to
see you sink
(i know you still
remember me)
i am your ghost, we’re not
unknown, so wait for me.
and when you’re cold,
just let me know,
these hands will find you heat.
je suis une rose qui
j’aime ta fantôme.
je suis le lampadaire mais
tu es toujours prêt à tenir et
jamais pour moi.
deux pas en arrière, amante,
reviens-moi, tuez-moi,
j’ai besoin de toi.
the gardner’s soul,
love unsold,
a pocket full of seeds — unsown,
plant a worried lover’s groan
and tug upon my collar. xx
dig a hole, grow old, don’t get rid of me.
The garbage has been piling
but the ceiling has collapsed
and there is no room to grow here
only to draw fool’s maps
So I clenched our gutted blankets
but felt the weight in there
and the walls all melted down again
as I lay naked, bare
And now I want to fix you
but I come unprepared
for the noises that destroy you
and from which I am spared
So I am clenching gutted blankets
but filling in the gaps
and I will love you through the noise
and close our book of maps
