#rvapoets

[baddiebrooke]

i dont smoke weed anymore

but when i do

i think about old, skinned teddy bears stitched together

to find themselves sewn into a new purpose

within a new shape.

a shape that cradled us

cradling each other.

i think about brown sticky hash on the front of your teeth

underneath of false stars

and the uncontrollable heaving of laughter

and how i guess

i understood how a slip of lipstick can really make you remember a person. 

the only snake i would ever share a bathroom with.

like it was our holy place

like it was our common ground

like the coolness of ceramic could choke the romance back into us.

a place within a bookmark in another poem.

a place worth mentioning.

how the trembling of a brittle heart changes a person.

the hesitation and vigilance that falls within the gaps of a steering wheel

while we white knuckle our pride.

i believe that im still the only little nightmare you hope to slip into

even if my face isnt shaped how you remember it.

i am not the way you remember.

theres a box somewhere in this house filled with another womans name.

another womans love. 

another synonym that means “couch” 

but thats the beauty of an inside joke, isnt it?

truthfully,

i feel somewhat comforted in knowing that someone else may have also loved immensely

and felt themselves tripping into a cliff hanger

and died

but kept the ashes around.

my urn looks vastly different:

“lets die together, while we are still happy” holding a handful of jade,

a piece of green, irritatingly textured paper

and a thundercloud waiting to clap.

I take another hit of this weed

that i dont smoke anymore

and then

i dance my heart out to KC & The Sunshine Band.

--TBR

[baddiebrooke]

I often find it difficult to be truly vulnerable with how I feel in fear of total abandonment. I think that's a fairly common fear but can ultimately lead to individual alienation. I find it easier to be passive. Like, if i tap on a window, it may open if I'm persistent enough. Only if it doesnt, I am left in the dark feeling around for an emotional switch in which the inevitable occurs and it's easier to say, "fuck it". Completely take a backseat to everything all together and just ride it out, ya know? All of this holding in and holding out is holding me hostage and I would rather hold onto a seat belt than a steering wheel.

--TBR

[baddiebrooke]

Once I had a lover his fingers licked across wire throwing off vibration before touching ears I loved that lover for he knew smarter than to admit a feeling so we chased aliens into the pines Eyes spoke louder than words because the action couldnt touch it and he couldn't touch me for I was partially untouchable Oh how he touched me When the lights were blackened and pupils faced forward His voice throwing off vibration before kissing my ears and vibration intensified elsewhere Gunshot and a bullet goes through a couch cushion before drywall and I didn't flinch I made another metaphor Four wheels snaking in and out of the depths of a back road Condensation built a tall glass out of me The mind sees a blur but assumes it's a tree The lover sees a tragedy but does not label me Our truck stop became soot and the hot brown water wont taste the same without the sound of a shower or a blonde lizard crawling around a gas pump He wears painters pants and loafers with a penny fingered into a slit but not for me He wears tall socks with cutoffs and swears he has expired to spite me On the contrary it was a smooth getaway A woman I barely know is pacing a bedroom on the other side of a wall He pulls the trigger and three words graze but are not meant for me Another word rattles where a mass should be There is fever in forever

--TBR

-TBR

[baddiebrooke]

in a world with judgement stained into the very veins of our being, we hold somone, somewhere accountable. so much so  that eventually it becomes a natural blockage of what high energy we could be. so i break my pointer finger ritually. wind the gauze and bone tight against palm. so that when the ligaments find themselves once more intact, it becomes more difficult  to raise it while i am becoming my own accountability.

TBR

[baddiebrooke]

i will cut you out if it’s the last thing i do. i will harden myself so that you may not bend me and i will carve my last name out of every vein in my body. so sell your house but bury the photos. we all know you appreciate things when they're found six feet under.

TBR

[baddiebrooke]

i promise i did not do this with purpose. my chest was working in secret and i didn’t feel the construction. my body filled the spaces between my ribcage. maybe it tired of sending signals like, : TAKE COVER         TAKE COVER                TAKE COVER : it only occurred to me as i searched for a feeling looking into the eyes i know that i love. only i felt a quiver as if my mind knocked and my heart decided to not answer, sending echos shattering beyond. i promise this was accidental. normally my body rejects cement but it befriended tissue and they decided to mingle. i thought i heard a whisper, :we should be safe here: i am granulation.

TBR

[baddiebrooke]

no one can hurt me as much as i hurt me. the belt i wear is multipurpose. the single nail behind my mattress has only one. they never ask why there are holes stamped down the length of this leather and if they did their eyes are sure to widen. the things i do alone.

TBR

[baddiebrooke]

SALVATION IN SUBMISSION

-coming soon-

📷: Que Peterson