Shitty Times Call for Shitty Poetry @aseasickturtle-blog - Tumblr Blog

Shame

Shame blossomed

like rain on a silk dress

blood on tissue paper

tears on dry eyes.

Shame blossomed and yet I held it in

but you can’t hold in the rain.

or blood.

or tears.

Shame blossomed and it crept toward you

and I felt fear.

Shame blossomed and it crept toward you and you scooped it up.

Wrapped it in blankets and steeped hot tea.

Shame blossomed and it crept toward you and you scooped it up

and I felt fear

but for a different reason.

For who will soothe my shame when you are gone?

Gaze

You were something I didn’t fully understand

And I think I liked that.

I liked that I could look into your eyes

and be unsure

if you were looking back at me.

#writerscreed

Tomorrow

I might see you tomorrow.

And if I do, there will be no more

butterfly hands on awestruck backs,

no more teddy bear hair,

no more quiet looks of understanding.

No more funny faces and strange sounds

and periods of silence that are comfortable

in their shared awkwardness.

No more bumping elbows in your cramped kitchen

as the pasta boils over.

I might see you tomorrow.

And if I do, I’ll tell myself that I was in love

with the you in my mind,

not the you that is rubbing your thumb

against the soft back of her hand,

the you whose eyes skate past me

as if I am from some alternate unseen reality.

The you I loved is not you.

That is what I'll tell myself.

#writerscreed

Rain Remnants

After the storm she was unsettled. The rain had come like flocks of geese in squealing masses and now it was silent.

Now it was silent and drops dripped down, slimed their way between shingles and onto the window pane. Worms of crystal reflecting the muted streetlights outside.

Your name

At night when all I can see is the dark of the ceiling I twist it over in my head Fold it in half and marvel at its symmetry Tease out hidden meanings and forgotten truths That are not really truths at all I don't speak but my mind whispers it Over and over.

Did you know?

Did you know that seagulls fly to land when a storm is coming? Did you know that if you lay in a parking lot when that storm hits the rain falls around you and makes two pavement angels touching at the fingers? Did you know that it took me 23 weeks to learn your name?

Cooking Pasta

Barefoot in the kitchen White cotton t-shirt soaked with summer sweat Pluck spaghetti from between my fingers I think I might love you You chew and shake your head Pasta needs to cook more.

Starry-eyed

And yes, I spent summer waiting for you. Late nights pressing the lids of my eyes back into my head. Seeing stars and hoping they would form a constellation of your face.

Sunday Afternoon

I dropped pistachio shells into half-finished tea and wondered where you were.

Tears on the Bus

You used to love my ripped blue jeans. We would sit on the bus, legs creeping toward each other over the hard plastic seats. I would smile as your fingers pulled at a hanging thread, skimmed over windowed skin, traced spirals on the faded denim. You loved those jeans. More than you ever loved me.

#poetselixir #poetselixirprompt #torn cloth

Hello

Hello there, tumblr.

When I’m sad I write shitty poetry.

Please enjoy.

(or don’t)

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Shitty Times Call for Shitty Poetry