This Is What It Feels Like

The exact reasons behind my poems.

POEMS I WROTE WHEN:

___ I asked myself what kind of person I want to be after the lights go out? What kind of person did I want to be after the party is over and everyone leaves me? What kind of person was I when it feels like the entire world is against me? What kind of person do I become when I can’t even trust myself?

I buried California in my eyes

edible desert flowers

and infinite stars in the sky

now I wake to clouds of metal and grey

I drown myself so I wouldn’t sink

I drown you out so I could sleep

the dust rearranges the particles of my mind

I waited the whole year for August

pounded the mural into pebbles, peoples, fractals and gravel

with my sky hammer in hand; I am sitting, seething & sugared in moonlight

dawn is inevitable

as always

dawn is inevitable

rage in a useless manner

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___ I was in line at Zara in London last summer. I had just gone on a so-so date in Hyde Park, I was moving to Spain the next day (I had only been told such the day before) and was finishing up a few last minute errands. You. I thought of you and got mad. He wasn’t you. You weren’t here. Time would only put more space between us.

love me and you’ll live forever in me protected

break me and you’ll live forever in ink encased

I think that I scare you

I think that you’ve never known a heart like mine

I think that devils, angels, witches & ghosts whisper falsities in your ear

I think that you believe them more than me

I think that when I hear lullabies you hear sirens

I think we both know I wasn’t innocent in our descent either

I think that our ruthless little game bore no winners but left us just intact enough to think differently (& expect answers we aren’t entitled to)

I think that

I think that

I think that

I think those were just the worst damned three words you ever heard

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