#4ampoems

[elfqueen1977]

the smell of freshly cut red peppers always reminds me of that motel we stayed at on the island. maybe that’s why i didn't like them for so long, because they reminded me of a time and place and people that don’t exist anymore. now i crave them, crunchy and raw like new york city in the 80s.

S.B.

[elfqueen1977]

...Let’s be mezmorized by each other. Let’s be stupid and lonely and lovely together. Maybe we can even be in love a little bit, but we don’t have to tell anyone. We won’t even tell each other.

elfqueen1977.tumblr.com

[elfqueen1977]

i am pretty sure

i dream in paint.

i fly over hills

of dabs and brushstrokes.

and from a distance, i can see it all clearly;

the tapestry woven of my characteristic colors.

the perfectly imperfectioned landscape

of my unconscious.

i run across fields

carved by the bristles before me.

with that frighteningly familiar feeling

of being lost

down a path

of a past

fragrant with

disappointment

and horse hair,

disguised as adventure.

I plunge into pools

of cloudy turpentine,

gasping for breath that comes too easily.

immersed in

thick, muddy fog as ghostly

as the old haunts its made of.

it is a pleasant drown,

claustrophobically cleansing

the canvas of my carcass.

[elfqueen1977]

I drew a picture of someone Then I realized it was you

[elfqueen1977]

i feel like a dandelion

i feel most alive now when i'm being torn limb by limb. call it "needing a hug" or lack of cheering up, but i just feel like a dandelion. the kind kids search for, and i've been plucked and held too tight, and someone put all their faith and longing and hope and heart into the breath that blew me bald. but their wish didn't come true, so now I've been casually discarded. fated to this lonely concrete graveyard.

[elfqueen1977]

It rained last night, And I could feel the walls crumbling. Beneath me Again, Is the Edge.

We’ve seen one another before, In loves lost and lives past. But we’re not usually this close If we can help it.

Then, lightening; a current that The human construct Or my moral compass Will not allow. It wrecks us; Torches our quiet houses While we’re asleep. The fierce front for the already seen, the already sinned, the already pleasured.

Fog,

And when we both wake I am still standing on your sides Smiling. My toes curled, and cheeks chapped with wind. A fluttering palm inside my ribcage Is the only thing holding me back from falling.