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"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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@buildstorms
he said too many things that you read too much into and now you want him to love you like a poet but is he really that good with words? (sometimes the people that live inside your head are so different from the people in your life that when you try to touch them they turn to smoke and you choke on them)
THE ONLY LOVERS YOU HAVE ARE THE ONES YOU MADE UP
we are all made of blood and poetry. that is all. that is all.
HUMAN ANATOMY
it's like this: every time you think you're going to be enough. it's going to be good. it never is. you never are.
IS THERE A WAY TO BECOME GOOD ENOUGH?
"would you kiss me?" I asked. "only if you would let me keep you," he answered. and that was the problem. people always seemed to want forever.
A TEMPORARY GIRL
they speak of the most beautiful woman on earth, of the face that launched a thousand ships, but they forget - helen was not merely a woman. helen was the daughter of the mightiest god. she was wild and raging, her beautiful body a golden cage. the people of her court whispered of her: how her laughter roared like thunder, and she always had electrcity in the tips of her fingers. she was a walking storm, tornadoes in her bones, confined within soft flesh. but only until someone struck the match. helen was her father's daughter: stunning, blinding, deadly. a lightning bolt just waiting to strike.
SHE BOARDS THE SHIP WITH A STORM BREWING BEHIND HER
ribs and thighs are the softest, most vulnerable places on the body. how do I know? my ribcage still carries purple signs in the shape of knuckles. my thighs are dotted still with thousands of fingerprints. how could I not know?
A WALKING MEMORIAL FOR PAST LOVES
I have always been a woman of blood a woman of spikes something with a sharp edge. of all the parts in the body I have always been the teeth.
A WALKING THORN
I used to think we were lovers, friends, equals. but I know now: if you are the wolf, I was always the lamb to slaughter.
I AWAIT YOUR TEETH
I hear this black hole weep, and I can't help but wonder; do I live in it or does it live in me?
THE ABSENCE OF LIGHT
I stood before the mirror and told myself; you are human and flawed and fragile. but you have always done your best. that is why you are perfect. that is why you deserve everything you have.
MY BEST
people are always gonna try to tear you down. the question is whether or not you let them.
WHO I AM IS MY CHOICE
he tells you: I'm so hungry. he buys a double burger on the street and eats it in three minutes. you think: so am I, so am I. you hold your own heart in your blood stained hands and bite into it.
THIS IS HUNGER
I say I would give you my heart and you cut my chest open. I say I like it rough and you tear me limb from limb.
IF LOVE HAD A MOUTH IT WOULD SCREAM
I've heard stories about girls who met wolves deep within the woods and never came back out because wolves are wicked and girls are fragile, small, naive and a girl cannot face a wolf without a blood red scream and failing knees. I've read poems about girls who are wolves who sink sharp teeth and pointy claws into men who howl songs of victory, darkness, hunt of girls with no fear only pitch black fur and flames but now it's my turn to tell a story, to write a poem and I'm not writing about girls who run from wolves, nor about girls who are wolves I know better I am writing about girls who are girls and when they walk into the deep dark woods the wolves bow down, quivering.
WOLVES SHOULD FEAR US, NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND
I fell into books like they were wells, and found it was easier to breathe drowning in words.
BOOK-ISH
and when she tried to show her teeth, all that came out was a snarl.
THE GIRL WHO NEVER LEARNED TO SMILE
in her mind, she knew it was time to let him go. in fact, not only was it time, but it had been long overdue. but her heart screamed in her chest, thrashed against her ribs with sharp claws: you will not take him from me. I swear I will stop beating if you do.
THE HEART PROTESTS