Something Not Right Quite

I once lived golden

My blood bled iridescent

I tried to show you

 But since I couldn’t drench myself in paint

I wrote a letter to your mother instead

There is a scar in the center of my chest

where I tried to put my feelings

No one was there when I cut off all my hair

The rumors you heard aren’t true

but you can believe them if you’d like

I probably would as well 

Noah's Arc is a Bed

We sleep like kittens

In cups and cupboards

and on the windowsill

behind the bed

Indiscreetly

Anywhere that we can

Closing our eyes from

the sun,

the moon,

and the eyes of our parents

We sleep like octopi

Wrapped up in seaweed arms

Bound

Holding each other so close,

I know,

tonight wont steal you away

Tomorrow morning

won’t steal me away

We sleep like elephants

Committing to good memory

the lines and wrinkles

of each other’s bodies

We won’t forget scars

or the stories that go with them

We sleep like skunks

Infusing bedsheets

with the scent of our skin

We will be here

long after we are gone

We tell bible stories

between each breath

Daring each other

to give more details

with each exhale

How many animals were on Noah’s Arc?

Because I could have sworn

it was just you and me

here ya go

some two romantic haikus

Oddly Romantic

I stood next to you

lightly foaming at the mouth

as we brushed our teeth 

Boy sweat and cheap Spanish detergent

Rain, grass, smoke, trees, dust

Your skin during the nighttime

All my favorite smells 

Time Capsule

1     

      1.   Cold tile floor

before the house walls

had memories

      seeped into them

Like the dirty fingerprints of us kids

2.

      Salt water and

sand between my toes

      and

a bathing suit wedgie

We held hands,

my sister and I,

and I made her laugh       for the first time

            Still proud now

3.

      Salchipapas

on

      dirty litter-ridden streets

Fingers dipped in

jars of peanut butter

My tongue

sloppy

with Spanish

and first kisses

4.

This one I don’t remember

      -I wasn’t there-

only the aftermath

Vomit on my dress

and later

      your phone call

“Please don’t speak to me again”

      And I didn’t

5.

      Heat under my sneakers

      The walk back to campus

from

      the also crazy friend’s

The sun shone through me

Golden

Before the rainy day

      where I destroyed my arms

I can’t hold them in my hands

      but in my heart

memories

                  of

The ‘I love you’s before the anger

Crying from laughing so hard

LSD-induced epiphanies

      And discovering how to

                  be happy

The pieces of my father

      in the way I care too little 

and the pieces of my mother

      in the way I care too much

What I won't remember

(written in 2013)




There was vomit on my dress
and the belt had been loosened
so I chalked it up
to one of those nights

We would joke about it in class
I couldn't remember a thing

You would joke about it during lunch
she couldn't remember a thing

I still don't really know


I can barely remember your voice
we almost weren't talking anymore
There was a rumor passed on
by your sister
The start of many
But it was before I lost my mind


There are journals that I'm still scared to read
There are keys that I'm still looking for
I dropped them in water full of ink

I can sift and splash
and splash and splash and sift
but it'll never clear
They won't be found


I never knew evil
wore cotton polos
and drove it's grandmother's car

What I'll remember

(written in 2009)


It was dark outside
when I fell in love with your arms and found
on them
your ET fingers
Long enough that my ribs were your piano

Your speedometer glowed with
my feet pressed against your dashboard
Me
and you
and your car
all humming the same song

while my knees knocked together drumbeats
and my hands were sticky
with vanilla softserve
leaving a trace on every part of you that I might want to remember-

your beard that you could never grow
to the thick cotton of your polo
down
to the light of your hands
changing the song, whispering words
in the glow of the white interior

long before I stained it red
with roofied drinks and pizza sauce

Back
in days when I would
drive my own car faster
towards any silver towncar
to look for the dent in the side

Maybe it was you
mouthing the words to your favorite songs
wishing I were there so you could sing them into my cheek,
the glow of the speedometer lighting up the
white interior of your car

guiding us home
like Sunday school saints


Take me home
Drop me off
So I can get into my own car,
drive away,
and remember why you thought you were in love

"So, about the other night...."

Lets talk about it. I'll love you either way.