A handful of names
I’m all over the place
A drop in a wave
Mad; pure madness to embrace
“You’ll always be my baby, so I’ll see you in my dreams.”
Do you fantasize about us?
Thirsty
I’ve perished
They told me so
A few times
I’m tongue tied
A thing in the undercurrent
A hole in one
When I woke I was thirsty
An insatiable existence
I know I’ll be punished
I know it’s a sin
Source
These wings don’t flock
I am not forced by any wind
Ungrounded from the land and molds
Behold everyone, the individual
A pure source
Pure eyes
A soul who’s unknown
Doesn’t quite belong anywhere
Found in anything and everything; every being
Heavy
I want to be seen through and through
I want to have enough, never stop
There’s pauses in my membrane
I don’t recall the order of fate
How I wish it’d play out
How I pray to erase
Escaping is the back door
Unspoken
I beg my soul to be revoked and
The soul never wanted to carry me anyways
It names me a burden
Dead weight
Hips in heaps of heavy and a bit unsteady
Haunting
Smokey listeners
Reaching for the shallow limbs of black
They sink and wail to discover life
And so I remain, printed and somewhat flaky
Together, forested in fictions
I lie to myself when I stretch out of the hopeful comforts
I’m picked as bark
The dog days are quite holy; haunting
The body was muddy and dug out of void
Being, holy as well
Peer through
Identify me, then leave me to be, leave me alone
As I grow feral to the moans of cicadasÂ
I will touch the golden skies in faith
The ones I indulge in and tell stories about
Black Sheep
I can go anywhere and find home on my skin
Resting in dew
What’s new
When strangers are blue
Sketched and watercolored onto blocks
I’m an iridescent rock with moss
I wrap my locs when I’m around em
Pretend I’m Medusa, not a bit hesitant
And my shadows vow to move exactly how I move
As I pretend to blend in as if I belonged here
I dodge small talk
I know real voices, true hearts
I’ve mastered how to mirror; starting over less foreign than I
I knew I was alright
I was a locust bite, bitter
In the cool hybrid air
I made my way through the stolen
What I gave away could never keep up
My gift was melted and sculpted
Sometimes I’d call it love
A Lily Pad & An Amphibian
His palm was my soil
I was his butterfly, on my admirer’s hand
I just cherished how he handled me
His words, lack of
Every per centum
All the negative space
He was the seed that planted me
Secrets
They would call me insane if they knew of the voices I have above my head
They would call me insane if I told them of my enlightened mind
So they want us to think aloud
And share all our secrets?
Stillness
Around you I tread gently
I treat you with kid gloves
I rock you to sleep
Thinking little nothings
Riding the wave
I try to behave
My heart is your slave
She prefers it that way
There’s an unspoken rule here
As we tangle and toss my dear
I won’t speak if you don’t
You have my word
Bone comfort, adored lover
“The things we have in common, probably why we get along and also why we’re no good. The toxic pleasure in the mutual stroking of each other’s egos, shadows, soft spots. We are impermanent, so I can be in coexistence with you until we’re not. I look at you tenderly and will call you a lover for the rest of this life regardless of how, if, or when things end. I genuinely hope you’re able to connect with more compatible lovers. It’s one of the most pleasurable things, and good for da soul.”
“I agree Miss mulberry. Beautiful word choice.”
I wouldn’t call all the people I’ve had sex with a lover. The fate of my lovers and I tend to be bittersweet. I know it all too well. It’s comfortable having the dynamic we have. Like all, I see a piece of myself in X and a piece of him in me. He resurrected a part of me I thought was dead. He got me dancing again..
“He heats up and I lie down with him. Licking skin, fixing our faces.. He is pressure, I volcanic rock and I soon glaze over.”
I know I can’t carry X to the other side when/if the time comes. I’m pretty sure I want to grow, to learn how to relationship, to try wholeheartedly choosing someone and commiting at least once. To face my fears, and cast away my trust issues. It sounds nice, the vision is clear, the work however not for the weak. And relationships are my greatest weakness. Now I’m not weak, I’m just not sure if I can actually do it, if all of me wants to, if I’ll get the chance, if I have the tools..
Because if I’m honest; more often than not, I don’t want him; or anyone else, to be mine. A part of me doesn’t want to be wanted or possessed in that way either. It’s a vulnerability I’m uncomfortable with. It’s a sacrifice I have mixed feelings and thoughts about..I love my solitude and being my safe space. I like him and having him around, and the feeling is mutual, and that’s alright. being lovers is simple, freeing, safe..
“Play with me. Stay with me. Relax here..”
I think I knew this all along, and I know the longer we remain the more bitter than sweet the end will be for me. It was supposed to be a smooth ending, but I threw my hands up and gave X what he wants, what a part of me wants. We’re fairly open and solid with communication so nothing is a surprise. I know him and I know him well. I know our dance like the back of my hand. I am willing and leaning in. I can be here, now. And if we stay fucked up and never heal the parts we share, we probably will wind up dancing much longer than I intended…
I just don’t want another cold goodbye, or to tire. I wanna be warm still, tender still when it ends. I had a chance at a soft clean slate, but he is a charming woodpecker and I’ve never had a lover quite like this so I’ll indulge until I don’t anymore. He’s familiar and also unknown, and well I’m pulled…
“You help me see and understand nothing.. There is no right or wrong with you.”
..All of my lovers have a special place in my heart though..
“Love is supposed to be free not lethal.”
..I wanna be a better lover..
..I’m grateful and I’ll abstractly draw him and write passionate poems when the heartache comes and in the meantime..
“My love comes in all forms.”
Freegrandmaa 