[ewritespoems]

Air dense with brine and

Sorrow, stinging my twice-

Bitten lips, the sea encrusting the

Corners of my vision. I cannot

Remember how it feels to open my eyes

(I am ankle deep I am knee deep I am hip deep).

Blood pools thick beneath

Wind-salted cheeks

Pomegranate seeds and

Rue in my pockets

(and stones and stones and stones),

Heart buried beneath water and sand

Yet somehow still beating in my

Throat.

And if I take another step? If I let the sea

Float me back to shore or otherwise

Deeper still? If

I become water, become foam, become?

[ewritespoems]

Wires threaded under skin,

Fastened smile, cornered like

Framed butterflies,

Clinical, cold, though

Once there was beauty here.

The threads lift

(Can you see them?) Gossamer

Spider silk strings

Persuading porcelain into something

Softer, coaxing a

Falsified simper, a facade that does not

Reach the corners of my eyes.

I’m sure if you could stitch

Your way through my tongue

My eyes my beating heart that

Soft gray matter inside me

You would not hesitate -

And I’m sure I would

Let you.

Tell me what to say how to think

How to feel, Pin my

Wings against the styrofoam,

Hold me here forever

(I won’t tell you

You’re the only thing

Keeping me together).

[ewritespoems]

I want you to undress me,

Sliding the zipper through metal teeth

Gnashing in protest against the

Swell of my breasts, the curve of my waist,

Silk catching for a moment on my hips

Before pooling cool around my ankles.

I want you to peel off my skin,

Skeleton shaking itself free from the

Confines of a mind that

Counts every flaw, an

Imperfect body, an infinite suffering.

I want you to see me.

I want you to sink your nails into

My flesh, split me in

Half; pomegranate juice

Spilling down your wrists,

Staining your fingertips, all of me

Distilled into tiny arils.

I want to be everything and I want to be

Nothing at all.

Will you think I am beautiful then?

Will I?

[ewritespoems]

I sat alone tonight, though I

rsvp’d to this wedding

Six months ago.

I confidently checked plus one,

Took my time over writing your name,

Always savoring the swoops

Of its letters, always delighted by the

Shape of it next to mine.

I zipped my own dress,

Contortionist twisted at the waist,

Arms vined over shoulders, fingers

Fumbling against a closure left

Open, gaping maw at the small of my back.

I could not clasp the bracelet,

Pearls trailing uselessly along my wrist,

Pale moons, little ghosts, tiny

Teeth gnawing without purchase against my

Skin.

I did not dance alone, to be clear

(Funny how I would have, had you been there),

Friends and strangers, sliding doors of

Maybe lovers, light grasps against my

Hands, my hips, but always released at the

End of the song.

I caught the bouquet,

Single Ladies pumped against my eardrums,

DJ, thrilled by my unpartnering,

Instructing me to show off my

Ringless finger

And naked wrist.

[ewritespoems]

I have painted myself with

Honey and salt

(I want to be beautiful for you, I

want to be delicious).

I have wrapped myself up,

Sticky sweet and syrupy. I do not take

Too much space,

Bite-sized, cotton-candy thoughts

(I want to be good for you, I

Want to be perfect), but

Too late have I realized

I will melt in the

Heat of your grip, I will

Dissolve on your tongue like

Sugar, I will be

Crushed between your

Teeth,

Tart cherry wine

Slicking down your chin.

I have made myself

Palatable for you.

When you consume me,

Will I be the

Best

You’ve ever

Tasted?

[ewritespoems]

Blind Date

I did not go on a second date

Because he told me that he had a

Five Year Plan:

a Wife, and a PHD, and two kids by 2030

And I heard the cage door snapping shut.

My sister was furious with me.

How could I turn away a man who knew what he wanted?

Don’t I want all of those things too?

And I do -

I do.

But I do not want to fit conveniently into a

Role he has scripted,

A perfectly cast mother and wife

Who could just as easily be replaced by

Another woman

A line of silhouettes waiting to audition

For the part of a lifetime.

I want to be loved because he cannot help but love me

Like a sunrise like birdsong like a full moon in the daytime like

Lips meeting for the first time like

Two hands

Fumbling and grasping and intertwining and

Learning they do not want

To let go.

[a-silentpoet]

I want to be loved because he cannot help but love me. Like a sunrise, like birdsong, like a full moon in the daytime.

[ewritespoems]

A new girl lives in my apartment.

Her boots track slush through her foyer

Past her packages

Tossed haphazardly by the postman

Who after all these years still finds

My name taped to the mailbox.

And her plants line the narrow window box;

She is partial to marigolds and

I want to tell her that herbs will thrive better

In the eastern sun

And are more practical besides.

Her pans, I must assume, hang on the pegs

I hammered into the drywall,

Taking advantage of my long-gone deposit,

And I want to ask her if the kitchen floor still

Tilts slightly? And I want to tell her

I noticed it once when a penny

Rolled beneath the oven.

I wonder if it is still there with the

Dust and the heat and the

Pieces of me and the grease.

I never bothered getting it out, perhaps

Because I was lazy, or

Perhaps because it held no value to me,

Then.

I want to tell her I left a note

On the left wall of her closet

In pencil

(easy to erase)

I was here I was here I was here.

[ewritespoems]

Late Twenties

My cousin thinks I would be a good

Second wife.

She thinks it is a little too late

For me to be first

(washedupoldmaidontheshelfspinster).

Her life is so beautiful:

Suburban, Dog, Baby, Husband,

And she wants me to move home to find a

suburban dog baby husband

because there are no good men in Los Angeles

(swiperightyouupheygirlghosted).

How do I tell her that the idea of living her

Beautiful life makes my lungs

Shallow and my heart

Stutter and my brain

Static?

And how do I tell her that I’m afraid she’s

Right?

That I’ve already let the fruit

Ripen

And rot

And it is too late

For anyone

To take a bite.

[ewritespoems]

Classics

I speak a dead language,

Little phrases that nobody else understands

(Well. Somebody does).

I don’t want to forget

The way your lips curved around

My name, or the way yours

Felt inside my mouth.

But I feel the muscle memory

Slipping away, because I

Have no one to speak with

Anymore.

Tell me -

Do you still laugh when you hear the

Green line screeching?

Do you still say “I love that band”

When you see a business sign you find funny?

Do you still make

That stupid noise

Whenever some other girl

Takes her top off for you?

Do you have

New jokes

With her?

[ewritespoems]

I watch TikToks about

Avoiding The Signs Of Aging,

Half of my face pressed into my

Sheets in a way I know will

Crease my skin,

Impressions of where I have lain

Printed clearly on my cheekbones for

A few minutes

Or maybe, this time, for a

Lifetime.

The perfectly smooth woman on my screen

Urges me to roll onto my back.

I do not move.

My dentist offered me discounted Botox last week,

Tracing a line on my forehead

With blue balloon hands

As he drilled two thousand dollars

into my molar

And the woman in my phone tells me

As I approach 30

I should consider preventative care

Although we both know that

She cannot prevent aging itself

But rather,

Simply, the appearance of having done so.

She says that I won’t realize

The damage my expressions are causing until it is already be far too late

And she flashes a photo of a

Woman who looks like my grandmother.

I want to tell her that I would be

So honored to immortalize every

Fleeting laugh and flirty kiss in the

Canyons carving around my smile.

I want to tell her that I want to hold

Each cheeky wink forever

In the spiderwebs creeping into the

Corner of my eyes.

I want to ask her if she truly thinks

It is better to be frozen than to feel?

But I won’t.

I already know

It is better to be young.

[ewritespoems]

Blind Date

I did not go on a second date

Because he told me that he had a

Five Year Plan:

a Wife, and a PHD, and two kids by 2030

And I heard the cage door snapping shut.

My sister was furious with me.

How could I turn away a man who knew what he wanted?

Don’t I want all of those things too?

And I do -

I do.

But I do not want to fit conveniently into a

Role he has scripted,

A perfectly cast mother and wife

Who could just as easily be replaced by

Another woman

A line of silhouettes waiting to audition

For the part of a lifetime.

I want to be loved because he cannot help but love me

Like a sunrise like birdsong like a full moon in the daytime like

Lips meeting for the first time like

Two hands

Fumbling and grasping and intertwining and

Learning they do not want

To let go.

[ewritespoems]

Crimson cutting across your chest;

I chose this color not for how it

Complements my skin, but rather for how it

Brightens against yours -

Beacons marking my path, a

Veritable map of the pieces of you I

Visit most (vermillion at the

Hollow of your throat the

Ridge of your ribs the

Cut of your hip).

You can mark me, similarly

(I will wear a scarf on Sunday),

Violets blossoming on my

Breasts

and thighs,

Budding beneath your lips,

blooming petals every

Breath

And sigh.

[ewritespoems]

Delicate gossamer petals,

Ripped from roots still reaching

Desperately for earth,

Satiated with shallow water instead.

Do they know they are dying? Do they

Know they

(If you have taken my fear for

Apathy, it is the worst mistake

I have ever)

were given, a consolation, to a

Brokenhearted woman from a man too kind

To be breaking hearts? Held softly by hands

Too gentle to wrench

Flowers

(made. How is it I

Still bloom under your gaze? My face tilted to your glow

Even as you tell me I somehow missed you

Falling out of)

from the tender cradle of soil, that silent

Solace, though still they

Stretch to the sun with the life they have

Remaining,

At once

(love? I did not say it

Enough when I had you. I love

You I love you I)

Blossoming,

Withering.

(love you.)

[a-silentpoet]

How is it I still bloom under your gaze?

[ewritespoems]

Delicate gossamer petals,

Ripped from roots still reaching

Desperately for earth,

Satiated with shallow water instead.

Do they know they are dying? Do they

Know they

(If you have taken my fear for

Apathy, it is the worst mistake

I have ever)

were given, a consolation, to a

Brokenhearted woman from a man too kind

To be breaking hearts? Held softly by hands

Too gentle to wrench

Flowers

(made. How is it I

Still bloom under your gaze? My face tilted to your glow

Even as you tell me I somehow missed you

Falling out of)

from the tender cradle of soil, that silent

Solace, though still they

Stretch to the sun with the life they have

Remaining,

At once

(love? I did not say it

Enough when I had you. I love

You I love you I)

Blossoming,

Withering.

(love you.)

[ewritespoems]

A boy I loved in college

Kissed me

For the first time

In a subway station.

It was raining outside, a summer

Storm that came from nowhere

And soaked me through my bones and

I thought that maybe he would kiss me in the rain

(How romantic, I thought, like in the notebook)

But he never stopped as we raced through the droplets,

My hand firmly in his, tugging me behind him as he ran.

The station was humid, and there were

Puddles of fetid water we had to leap over to get to the bottom but

He walked me all the way down the slick stairs even though

He didn’t have to take the train

And right before I tapped my card he kissed me

I was disappointed,

(Not in the kiss but rather

That he waited until there was the overflow of trash and the

Crowd of commuters and the screech of the

Tracks)

And I thought that maybe he just wasn’t one for

Romance.

I asked about it later,

Why he didn’t kiss me in the rain,

And he said I had been shivering the whole walk to the station

And he didn’t want me to be cold any longer.

And I thought “oh!

How romantic.”

[ewritespoems]

I like that bread has an

expiration date.

I like that I know exactly when it will begin to

molder, green spores creeping

through the soft center even before they are

visible

on the crust.

I like that I can throw it away,

or else devour it all, and know I am not

missing anything

but rot

by letting it go.

[ewritespoems]

i don’t blame you for not knowing that i 

love you, for i have only just become 

aware of it myself. how could i have

known that the way your fingers manage to

send a chill across my skin but still set

my blood ablaze - the way my heart beats like 

butterfly wings or plucked violin strings -

the way my breathing catches in my lungs - 

how could i have known that what i feel for 

you is love?

- e. 

06.24