THIS IS NOT POETRY

Thursday, July 31, 2014

Crashing

She's got no use for dreams or wistful thinking
You can't bring back the dead with only backward glances
She lives in slow motion
She lives for yesterday
And all the shattered futures
Crushed by one mistake

But he will not move again
What did this prove again?

Emotions dissolve on the back of her tongue
Her lips are chapped and broken crying "dead religion"
And she walks on a razor blade
Hanging over nothing
Broken hearts still beat
When they've been robbed of something
Like a love song

She lives to break the glass in picture frames
Burning the photographs
To take their lives back
And she engraves her own gospels on her arms
Shuts off the alarms
Alarms
Alarms

But he will not move again
What did this prove again?

Emotions dissolve on the back of her tongue
Her wrists are scarred and broken from a dead religion
And she walks on a razor blade
Hanging over nothing
Broken hearts still beat
When they've been robbed of something like a
Love song

Something in her dreams before the darkness comes again
Collecting the tears from a split second decision
Wiping out the stop lights
In her blurry vision
But the broken glass is flying 
And she is lying on the concrete 
Again

Untitled

I need a cigarette
Before I care
I need to stop breathing air
To spin
To spike
To scrape
Before I can pull my heart out on its chain
And watch it glistening
Gleaming
Beating
Alongside yours

And there it is
That nervous little flutter
That I told myself a thousand times I didn't need
Here it is again
Just below where it should be in my chest
Somewhere between the stomach
The brain
And all the rest
But fuck this
And fuck you
And you and you and you too
You're all...so beautiful
And isn't that what this world does...
To beautiful things?

Evelyn

It’s been two years
Since I last saw your face & it was streaked with tears
Its been 3 days
Since newspapers
Brought light to my whispered fears

Evelyn, didn't you know
Psycho girls can't just wake up to be normal.
We never win didn't you hear?

Whoa Evelyn
Your scars hold on forever but your eyes are so far away
And oh Evelyn
We bled out together in the rain
Scabs and stains
So far away

Only four more
And my head hits the floor
I cannot face my fears this way
So now five times
We can’t change what’s past
But all of that comes last
(When I think of)

Evelyn I've always know,
Little girls can't just wake up to be angels 
We never win didn't you hear?

Whoa Evelyn
Your scars hold on forever but your eyes are so far away
And oh Evelyn
We bled out together in the rain
Scabs and stains
So far away



Are You Okay?

Are you okay?
I hate that phrase.
It makes you wonder if you seem...faded.
If you've ruined someone's day.

Tight Knits, Hard Knocks

I have always wanted to be one of those girls with cute feet.
Little pink toes with perfect cuticles to peek out from sandals, the kind with beads on them, that wink and sparkle in the sun.
But girls who walk around barefoot have dirty feet.
Calloused and smudged with grime,
We step on broken glass and jump back, bash our hip bones and get bruises there too.

I have always wanted to be one of those girls with pretty hands.
Willow fingers with perfect half moons, to rest lightly on the strap of a bag, or a friend's shoulder.
But girls who feel their ways forward have dirty hands.
Scraped and smeared with yesterday's inked reminders,
We scorch our fingers on other's flames before we think to look for the light, jerk back and smack our elbows and get bruises there too.

I have always wanted to be one of those girls with a "skin care routine"
Creams and powders lined up in a row because we all know beauty comes from within...from within tubes and jars and compacts.
But girls who cannot look away have dirty skin.
Makeup left on overnight, a faded mark from the last fist fight,
We stick our necks out so far we nearly trip, fall back and crack our skulls and get bruises there too.

Mobius Strip

I figured it out!
I get it now you see.

The soul lives in a Mobius Strip
And you know what's the scariest part of that? 
The dip

The turn right before the drop
The rollercoaster loop
It's the snot
All over your chin and your shirt sleeves
After you cried every teardrop you've got
You are not immortal
But you are infinite
And this chance
It's the only one you've got

Anyways

She pretends not to see
Over his shoulder to the screen
Where a blond woman unbuttons her shirt and smiles
Tightly
Instead she asks him about his day
Proceeds to tell him about hers
Words flow better into that stiff and silent air
Than they would down his throat
Anyways

Static

Today I tried for you
Today I cried with you
Today I lied to you

It's so easy to deceive
Making up stories just so I can breathe
White noise on the stereo
White lies behind closed doors
Are you alright?
Are you okay now?
Watch what you do
Watch what you say
And how

So many miles across the lighted screens
So many breaths between our heartbeats
I give so much and you give nothing back
What's life like carrying a battle ax
Slung over your shoulder?
There's loves and there's hope here
But you'd rather attack