exorcism - 05/28/13

there's something about
the way he murmurs wisps of lyrics
and decrescendos of choruses
from songs I've never heard
that siphons anxieties
and mathematical conceptions of time
right out of my veins

14 Reasons I Shouldn't Own A Knife - 05/27/13

1.
While chopping plums for a smoothie,
I found a hard, sharp bit
of thumbnail
and paused for a long moment
wondering where it came from
before thinking to examine
my thumb.

2.
There was a red substance on the glass
and all I could think was
"Did I really just buy tainted glass?"
before noticing the red substance
spilling from my ring finger.

3.
Foam bubbles
on a beach,
the water washing out
and never coming in,
running and chasing
seaweed figures
until the return
that tried to swallow
all of me.
But I got some rainboots.
But Haylie doesn't like yellow.

4.
Heat wave in third grade,
but I was convinced
that I didn't need a sip of water
until the world started swaying
and I wound up
back in first grade
while my little brother's class
celebrated.

5.
I almost walked in to traffic
while reading.

6, 7.
Multiple times.

8.
My first worry
was the blood stains
on my favorite nightshirt.

9.
My second was that
my roommate might see them.

10.
2am is the best time
for a walk
and an adventure for ice cream,
at least in my opinion.

11.
Brakes on bikes
are unnecessary
if you're going downhill,
although I'll admit
that I should have brought
a helmet.

12.
Quiet hotel rooms
and walks in strange cities
at way too late in the evening
that start spirals
of too many bad things.

Like, 8 bad things.

13.
Everything those lead to,
each shudder,
each lie,
each safety pin
and broken plastic fork
and pair of sewing scissors
and fruit knife.

14.
Whatever is coming
tomorrow.

Umbrellaless - 05/23/13

The weather tricked us into thinking
early May was summer
when growing up here
I should have known it was a lie,
so we've been going through
avocados and orange juice
like they're crack and tootsie rolls
and we've been pretending
computer screens are sunlight
and movie marathons are picnics.
We need the artificial sunlight
to block out the bad vibes
that the pounding rain
and air conditioning
in the dead summer dorm
have been force-feeding us
all week.

This Fucking Ballpoint Pen - 05/21/13

Lamor precession
of whatever spin down
state I've collapsed into
with the same songs
same equations
same lines of code echoing
27, 28 times
over and over
asking

"Why must you do this
to yourself?"

RMS - 05/21/13

I have trust issues
with boys
who recommend
songs that slip into the bloodstream
and clot in my wrists.

Yelling - 05/20/13

1. When they tell you that you can do anything, you don't have to believe them.  You don't have to be strong.  You don't have to be confident.  You don't have to agree.  When they tell you that you can do anything, storm away shouting that you can't and you like it that way.

2.  When they tell you that you can do everything and you shrink back in fear, because anything is too much to handle and everything is everything times worse, don't let them smile about your modesty.

3. When they try to agree with you, that you can't do anything, that you can't be everything, turn the music up louder, shove your fingers in you ears, sing sad songs and mad songs and love songs and swear.

4. When they tell you something, tell them they're wrong.  It's science.

Blunt - 05/18/13

What's a poem ever going to say that you would want to hear, that you would perk up to, that you would wrap in a napkin and slip out of the restaurant to examine later, dainty words on satin or hasty verse on paper, on trash, on the back of a checklist of important things I ran from for fear of failure.  For fear of success?  Words I threw out the back of my mind because they could never be answered or threw out my lips because any more thoughts would only have made them worse.  Blunt words like broken plastic on soft flesh, startling, stinging, strange.  Yet I can't imagine why that metaphor must be the one to come to mind when, I swear, I'm health and happy and better, though even more so with you.  Because I don't need any more heart-broken albums on repeat, but I downloaded all the ones you sent me to, every song you said you loved, but not because you loved them, not because I loved them either, but because it worked out that we both did.  Because you listen to the songs I loved and heard the magic pluck of strings and tap of cymbals with the s's of the lyrics and the poetry lamented to dark symphonies.  Because each thought in your head is alone worthy of love and all of them woven together as your mind, as your soul, well, damn, where do I even begin to begin to beg each readers and listener to let their heart swell with each soft sentence that rambles from your lips and blush when they realize it's sly compliments that they should be scared they can't live up to but aren't because, hell, just because you wouldn't lie to them, now would you?  Because brainy is the new sexy and book recommendations are the new flirtation and song lyrics are monologues that fit my thoughts too perfectly to be sung.  Because you sing, little snip-its of old songs and sad songs and love songs.  Because you watch sad movies and I swear that I don't but I also swear that I'm Vulcan and I think you and I can both guess how much you can trust my swears but who cares?  Because in a few minutes I'll have thought of something a thousand times better to say, the right moves, the right song in the background, the right hand gestures and heaves of my shoulders.  Because it will be too late, so I might as well be blunt.

Because you make me want to write poems, which has never been a good thing before.