You’re not it, you’re not it, you’re not it, you’re not it.
I forget that every single time I open my eyes.
It’s easy to get mixed up when your hair smells so sweet, when you’re everywhere I look even though it’s like this.
I heard about him.
Reality sets in, it’s not just yes to your boyfriend, it’s no to me.
And now it’s hello to some other schmuck.
I’m looking through his pictures right now & hating myself for it, for every minute of it. Looking for pictures of you in pictures of him.
I get my wish & I hate myself for every minute of it. You’re laughing. I want to punch him in the fucking face.
He never did anything to anyone.
I want to take him by the ears and scream at him,
Tell him exactly what you told me & there’s no way he can give you what I could give you
and you didn’t even want it
What the fuck does that even mean.
You want to love me better.
You’re hurting yourself.
I’m fuming.
What if I want right now? What if I want right fucking now?
Now I hate those goddamn words I wrote.
I hate them because they scared you, and you know that I know. You know that I see it in your hunched shoulders every time you spot me walking toward you. You can’t hide & you didn’t even try to. You know what a coward you are. Yeah, you.
Why did I have to be so nice.
And you pulled at my shirt that night, that night you stood there & you pulled my shirt and I was just trying to get a beer and you looked up at me with those bullshit eyes & you let my friends see me falter when you touched my stomach
and I said, I said I said, I wasn’t sure & I shuffled my feet.
We had broken up, we had, and I said I wasn’t sure.
Now I gave you what you wanted didn’t I? And now you’re with that fucking guy.
You pulled my shirt remember?
You pulled mine.
I wanted so badly to not need you, to not write cliché poems about you.
Well, fuck.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
9.
Whisper that into my ear.
Don’t open your lips too wide
Tell me secrets that you wear under your dress, and what is left after you wasted your day
Touch your fingertips to mine
Touch your eyelashes to my skin
I look at my bare shoulder and I think about you, & you should have kissed it
Sit on my lap and make me want you
Want to grab your thighs and also to watch you closely in that moment right before you start crying
Tell me creepy, scary things about you
No one else wants to know
and you think that I don’t either
Tell me even though you think I’ll run away
Be terrified
I want you to.
Get caught up, sucked under
Take that risk
Don’t open your lips too wide
Tell me secrets that you wear under your dress, and what is left after you wasted your day
Touch your fingertips to mine
Touch your eyelashes to my skin
I look at my bare shoulder and I think about you, & you should have kissed it
Sit on my lap and make me want you
Want to grab your thighs and also to watch you closely in that moment right before you start crying
Tell me creepy, scary things about you
No one else wants to know
and you think that I don’t either
Tell me even though you think I’ll run away
Be terrified
I want you to.
Get caught up, sucked under
Take that risk
8.
Strange how some things die
How grayish hollow boxes were computers a few years ago
Wire veins spilling twisted out
Bad movies get anticipated & then watched & then forgotten
Songs written and never listened to
Links, links, links, links, clicked once
T-shirts become trash
We think of living things
We think of cats dying
Even as we walk & we leave carcasses trailing after us spilling out of our pockets and stranded on the sidewalk
Empty snail shells
Empty drinking cups
Empty chairs
Stuff that doesn’t really matter that much
I’m philosophizing about junk
But I think about the things we forget sometimes & how there’s more to remember than we usually realize
How grayish hollow boxes were computers a few years ago
Wire veins spilling twisted out
Bad movies get anticipated & then watched & then forgotten
Songs written and never listened to
Links, links, links, links, clicked once
T-shirts become trash
We think of living things
We think of cats dying
Even as we walk & we leave carcasses trailing after us spilling out of our pockets and stranded on the sidewalk
Empty snail shells
Empty drinking cups
Empty chairs
Stuff that doesn’t really matter that much
I’m philosophizing about junk
But I think about the things we forget sometimes & how there’s more to remember than we usually realize
7.
Pretty girl with dreads walks by.
Peeks around a bookshelf.
The hem of her skirt makes my fingers itch like typewriter keys make me want them, except her dress was plaid and cotton and she looked right past me. Green-shirted me.
We could have picnics in that dress,
Both wear it sometimes,
My moccasins don’t match it but you could teach me how to walk like you and wear those glasses if you saw me in the right lighting.
My green shirt looks pretty good too.
But I bet she’s straight like every other girl I meet, and then my friends call me a vulture for asking that freshman if she was gay Saturday night.
I want more boots & I want people to call me a dyke, does that answer your question?
We are black letters punched onto paper, you&I
We are supposed to sit close and create things like words
We are knitted like knobbly white thread woven into a sweater that I wear for comfort.
I want to break your heart.
I want to make you shake.
Peeks around a bookshelf.
The hem of her skirt makes my fingers itch like typewriter keys make me want them, except her dress was plaid and cotton and she looked right past me. Green-shirted me.
We could have picnics in that dress,
Both wear it sometimes,
My moccasins don’t match it but you could teach me how to walk like you and wear those glasses if you saw me in the right lighting.
My green shirt looks pretty good too.
But I bet she’s straight like every other girl I meet, and then my friends call me a vulture for asking that freshman if she was gay Saturday night.
I want more boots & I want people to call me a dyke, does that answer your question?
We are black letters punched onto paper, you&I
We are supposed to sit close and create things like words
We are knitted like knobbly white thread woven into a sweater that I wear for comfort.
I want to break your heart.
I want to make you shake.
6.
My thumbs are all bloody
Usually I spend too much time thinking of reasons to shred up the skin around my nails
started it in tenth grade when I cheated on him
in front of him, too
My fingers all over this other guy’s back slapping him in the face with it every time he walked by
He hated it
I ripped my thumbs half open that night
Strange the things I think about while I’m listening to Lauren Bacall’s voice.
Strange how Humphrey Bogart holds her throat real tight while he kisses her
they always seem to hold thin little necks down as they push lips onto them
Say shut up & cover red mouths
red blood thumbs
Say baby, why don’t you pour me another whiskey
We could just blame it all on Eve, I guess
Usually I spend too much time thinking of reasons to shred up the skin around my nails
started it in tenth grade when I cheated on him
in front of him, too
My fingers all over this other guy’s back slapping him in the face with it every time he walked by
He hated it
I ripped my thumbs half open that night
Strange the things I think about while I’m listening to Lauren Bacall’s voice.
Strange how Humphrey Bogart holds her throat real tight while he kisses her
they always seem to hold thin little necks down as they push lips onto them
Say shut up & cover red mouths
red blood thumbs
Say baby, why don’t you pour me another whiskey
We could just blame it all on Eve, I guess
5.
I don’t really care that much where we go but I’ll go with you
As long as you drive that shitty car.
I’m in love with you.
All of these poems are for you,
I should maybe write that paper tonight like I told myself I would
But the sunlight is making me think about you
I don’t know why
I miss the 3 a.m.s that my friends stayed up with me and we were all on our computers and we made each other’s stomachs ache from laughing
Back when you weren’t really a big deal
I’m not sure how it got this way.
As long as you drive that shitty car.
I’m in love with you.
All of these poems are for you,
I should maybe write that paper tonight like I told myself I would
But the sunlight is making me think about you
I don’t know why
I miss the 3 a.m.s that my friends stayed up with me and we were all on our computers and we made each other’s stomachs ache from laughing
Back when you weren’t really a big deal
I’m not sure how it got this way.
4.
I do love college but I’m having a hard time
not skipping classes to come in here and write things like this because I know no one will bug me
We could just make that the norm though yeah?
Like an asterisk after one of those rules of life we write (which I think are bullshit, but we still write them and I guess I probably do, too)
Amendment Number One: Any scheduled activity is subject to forfeit at the discretion of the Author of these rules, in such a time as Poetry demands to be written.
I’m sitting here in this red shawl
the kind old women wear
and glasses
I make a great poet, you think
Face lying bare with no makeup and I feel ugly, mind wanders cleaning lady across the shelf from me eyes unfocusing, that fucking bird screaming in some tree outside
head in the clouds like a lost balloon
Letters run around on the computer screen,
What am I even talking about.
It’s moments like these that Depression starts to squirm back in
So
I’ll just check Facebook for the thousandth time
and start reminiscing about old loves, these poems always turn into reminiscing about old loves
I should probably close that chapter, but I write such lovely things about it.
not skipping classes to come in here and write things like this because I know no one will bug me
We could just make that the norm though yeah?
Like an asterisk after one of those rules of life we write (which I think are bullshit, but we still write them and I guess I probably do, too)
Amendment Number One: Any scheduled activity is subject to forfeit at the discretion of the Author of these rules, in such a time as Poetry demands to be written.
I’m sitting here in this red shawl
the kind old women wear
and glasses
I make a great poet, you think
Face lying bare with no makeup and I feel ugly, mind wanders cleaning lady across the shelf from me eyes unfocusing, that fucking bird screaming in some tree outside
head in the clouds like a lost balloon
Letters run around on the computer screen,
What am I even talking about.
It’s moments like these that Depression starts to squirm back in
So
I’ll just check Facebook for the thousandth time
and start reminiscing about old loves, these poems always turn into reminiscing about old loves
I should probably close that chapter, but I write such lovely things about it.
3.
Delicate, like flowers in your hair
Not like these words I drop down onto paper heavy
My red shoes, your gray sweater
our fingers are different sizes
I’ll say this a thousand times.
Libraries remind me of you now, silence makes me think about you
Sitting up here all alone for hours at a time & not really touching anything except letter keys & looking at pictures of you even though I know I probably shouldn’t
Soft and sweet like flowers in your hair
or the ways I never really got to finish putting my hands on yours
pages in old,old books
the thin kind
I wanted Sunday mornings with shallow sunlight
Tiny leaves
You are the last thing I remember.
Not like these words I drop down onto paper heavy
My red shoes, your gray sweater
our fingers are different sizes
I’ll say this a thousand times.
Libraries remind me of you now, silence makes me think about you
Sitting up here all alone for hours at a time & not really touching anything except letter keys & looking at pictures of you even though I know I probably shouldn’t
Soft and sweet like flowers in your hair
or the ways I never really got to finish putting my hands on yours
pages in old,old books
the thin kind
I wanted Sunday mornings with shallow sunlight
Tiny leaves
You are the last thing I remember.
2.
All this wind today, & bloody cramps & prayer beads in an attempt to bring you back.
You fucked me in the dream I had. Thanks for the hug you said. I was drunk. Grass clippings with blankets, beer, that art museum, Thai food, misunderstandings of who were we? Or are we?
You confuse me. I’m trying this new thing out where I look through people’s bullshit to find the love inside them. My problem was that it was always too easy to see yours. Your problem was that it was always too hard.
I hate the word heartsick and I think it is starting to describe me. Red flags waving in the windows, your echo as he tried his best but it was all for naught I guess.
Maybe this is where it starts, or maybe where it ends.
I’ll go back to Italy and forget you.
You fucked me in the dream I had. Thanks for the hug you said. I was drunk. Grass clippings with blankets, beer, that art museum, Thai food, misunderstandings of who were we? Or are we?
You confuse me. I’m trying this new thing out where I look through people’s bullshit to find the love inside them. My problem was that it was always too easy to see yours. Your problem was that it was always too hard.
I hate the word heartsick and I think it is starting to describe me. Red flags waving in the windows, your echo as he tried his best but it was all for naught I guess.
Maybe this is where it starts, or maybe where it ends.
I’ll go back to Italy and forget you.
1.
A naked body
a biological representation of the species
I wonder what makes up body parts
Whose hands are more than just sinew & bones & networks of blood vessels?
My head is filled up with paper cranes
I remember what your fingernails were shaped like
My eyes are hurting from the sun
I remember the time that guy said he wanted to be my fuck-buddy
Everyone’s feet are padded like an elephant’s
and I can see my bra strap
He called breasts “fatty sacks of glands and tissue” and it’s gross and he’s right
It’s weird that humans can make music
that we have science
What else is out there?
a biological representation of the species
I wonder what makes up body parts
Whose hands are more than just sinew & bones & networks of blood vessels?
My head is filled up with paper cranes
I remember what your fingernails were shaped like
My eyes are hurting from the sun
I remember the time that guy said he wanted to be my fuck-buddy
Everyone’s feet are padded like an elephant’s
and I can see my bra strap
He called breasts “fatty sacks of glands and tissue” and it’s gross and he’s right
It’s weird that humans can make music
that we have science
What else is out there?
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