Water

Maita, 17 Tongues that don't think much And minds that are speechless I will write you down

[mvdrinv]

[waterypoetry]

My bests

My best friend in the world is Christian, but he often breaks my heart into pieces so thin I gotta take a couple weeks to learn how to breathe again My favourite family is my father, he calls me really mean things but you gotta look farther, he tries to raise me differently, I have to listen harder My safe place is the ocean, the way it just breaks me open, I'm hopping to join her, when I die bury me in salt water The best thing I wrote was nonsense, it's written on my wall, We'll call this whole thing 'softness'

[waterypoetry]

Figuring it out

I don’t know I always kinda wanted to fly But I got tied down a lot, sometimes i’d find pegs in my foot And I always wanted to believe that first love means real love which I guess is unfair to my second love or anyone who comes after I thought being a daughter meant I was strong I thought I could fight currents because the ocean always loved me But he changes tides as often as I change my mind and nothing is ever meant to be I guess I’m growing up effectively if growing means I often can’t even breathe I guess this whole town is a cemetery where I’ve lost some part of me I guess it’s time to leave

The lesson here is no one stays So keep your lungs in good condition

[waterypoetry]

Wake up

It’s the kind of day where you kill the messenger When you lose to God in a game of wits and you’re a sore loser

I wanted to tell you this morning I dreamt I couldn’t have you I dreamt your mouth and lungs belonged to someone else I spent the whole night missing you in ways I’ve never missed anyone

You left for work before I could wake up

It’s the kind of day when any thing that could be good happens before I could wake up

Darling I have spent three years in a treacherous love with my best friend who I made up when I was fifteen She bites with a mouth filled only with teeth

I didn’t know where voice came from

Before you spoke I didn’t know how to tear myself out of anyone until you told me it is okay to be lonely

I want this to be real So I’m waking

[waterypoetry]

When you grow

When you grow up child Grow tall Write a musical for the wind And fall in love with strangers When you are hunted child Do not run Accept the dizziness as Devine And climb to higher ground When you smother your first lover child Do not refuse to ever love again Spray paint the pavement with a gravestone And rest in peace Your days will continue and someone who can handle it will find you When you eat until you are sore child Eat some more And remember what it feels like to be full for the days when your body is so empty you forgot you had the capability to grow daises with your lungs When you are no longer young, child Refuse to let anyone sentence you to dusty bookshelves and kitchen cabinets The forest and the city will always be as much yours as anyone else's Explore Child

[waterypoetry]

Ribs

If you need me Please search in rooms full of falling I've never known how to stand steady I lost my balance in elementary ballet classes If you rub me with your ribs Rib me Roughly I want to remember how to indent I've been living on cement

[waterypoetry]

She's so unhappy she tries to drown it with the same situations that made her unhappy in the first place They say when you're lost you start walking in circles unknowingly

Maita C

[waterypoetry]

Pacific

When we first met I told you that I have a habit of loving what numbs me

Evenings spent knee deep in the Pacific Ocean till I freeze You said you like girls with a connection to something

So I roped my lungs to yours, I didn’t like the way your chest would fill up with water when you cried I spent months trying to figure out how to control the tide With no reveal

You said you loved me on a fall evening

I promised to always think of you as ocean; entirety and open I did not remember that only 5 percent of the sea has been explored

Some of us have to learn hard

When you moved to the other side of the earth I spent every day in the water It’s hunger eating at my skin Until all my warmth had been sucked clean

Hopping that you were standing on the other side of the pacific My god what I would give if You could feel this

Reuben

When you hung up I swear the telephone line snapped Loving the air where you used to stand

Is like saying I love the sea only ever tasting the salt on the sand

Ocean

You spat me out

[waterypoetry]

John Cusak has it really fucking good

Today I ate my dinner on a bench behind a convenience store and felt nothing Today I spilt toothpaste on my black tank top and went out regardless Today I day dreamed about being John Cusak in literally any one of his movies And cried in bed next to a man who doesn't know how to just hold a hand without the whole scene of touching and kissing and telling each other everything I miss my mom I missed graduating I hate sleeping on a mattress on the floor and dreaming about being skinny

[waterypoetry]

If you want someone to carry you out of the dirt, find a seed I'm already blossoming

Maita C

[waterypoetry]

Traveler

He wears footprints like tattoos Like a tailored suit Like the ground he’s treaded mended him better than 4 o'clock girls, and bathroom hurls, and time spent soaking His mother raised him like a jar of whiskey always thinking it’ll get better in time Kept in kitchen cabinet Was told he was habit A disease Mommy please Take a break Breathe

Fourteen, and blueberry picking strangers, vines wrapped around their blazers held razors, told him where it’s best to cut, shoved rusty metaphors down a throat so dry it’d believe anything was water Hope so weak it’d inject morphine to be stronger

Eighteen and the towns too small to hold him, he broke the whole fucking thing open, took to roads full with roaming, handsome men with a passion for controlling, just hopping to find a writer to make him immortal, before heroin was his holder

Nineteen and he’s back home, mom never even left a note, whole things a joke, he laughs to himself at night, cabinets rotting, he’s rotting, plotting to take leave again, nothing’s mapped out except his back note road map he wrote about a traveling Feet sewn to wood flooring he’s cutting the stitches Hitches rides to the east At least he’s moving

Thirty and he only loved once A man so big lover forgot to think, got swept away like dirt to a broom, proved love only in dark rooms, it’s gotta be true that nobody’s as tired as a traveler Who preys on gravel and the sought after desire of never knowing what will come after

[waterypoetry]

Fumble

I want you to remember That it is easy To be thin and pretty And practice naked yoga in your parents back yard It takes a lot to leave the stomach and thighs and throat And think about God Stuck between treadmill and bible Stuck between skinny friend and record collection Loving my knees Because they are easy to love Loving the sky like its a road Leave girls full of breast and men full of muscle to the human constant struggle And fumble into the unknown

[waterypoetry]

Minimum wage

When your head was between your knees Defeated You said you were tired of the down and dirty You had never tasted the salt from the sweat of the ‘I made it’

I told you, (while still in my 10.25 an hour t shirt) that I had never graduated from anything either

And somewhere between the people that make things for the people who buy things there’s got to be a safe place to talk about it

Though, you do make these 11 p.m alley ways, soaking in pot smoke somewhat of a haven, I too hope this is a 'where we’ve been’

I’ll see you at 8 in the morning to fill the salt shakers and roll up the sleeves for the men and women that have forgotten how to live without instruction

Today a old man told me 'smile why don’t ya! It’s what your paid for!’

[waterypoetry]

Peach

The funny part is You still talk like summertime You still laugh like daisies You still hold me like a peach to its tree No matter how many times I try and fall to rot You hold tighter Grow higher Sometimes the best things we have are a stem Begin. Begin. Again.

[waterypoetry]

This

This is for every cocksucker who prefers burgers over salmon for dinner For every half empty glass finished by a seductive stranger For every man I should have fucked but decided to have standards This is for the bottom of the barrel and the 30 year old dishwasher Keep on keeping on

[waterypoetry]

Honey bee baby

She wanted to be a bee keeper So I bought her a wasp deflector But wasps aren’t after the honey They’re always after some body So I told her to be wary

But sometimes she gets as sticky as rotten fruit And attracts all the wrong kinds of bugs I made a small cemetery for her self love She can dig it up when she feels beautiful enough to wake the dead Not just turn heads

While she’s stuck behind walls of the honey bees impersonator I will tend to her hives What she said was the reason she was alive The hum of thousands of gardeners Of gardens One track mind seed creators

It has been a long time since she felt her own vibrations through the soil

[allthatiswatery]

I don’t know how to do just the voice recording so it’s a lame lil vid. But here’s me singing a little poem of mine. Singing poetry inspired by oliverswinford

Tongues that don’t think much And minds that are speechless I will write you down I’m not as fragile as I’d like to be known