alan.The nights alone at the edge of the water are often the hardest. I’ve spent many nights here breathing in salty air awaiting an answer to a thousand questions running miles through my head. Water thrashes around me, whispering sweet nothings; suddenly I am reminded of times I spent with Alan, although now it seemed we were living in two different worlds. We often fished here, but occasionally we would lie along the shoreline and have nose-to-nose conversations about everything and nothing simultaneously. His eyes were the most piercing cerulean, and as he spoke I felt them pierce through me like the sharpest of razors. He and I had something beautiful, much like the magic produced by the waves. Like the waves, though, the magic soon washed away so suddenly that I was left questioning the smallest parts of my own identity. I had completely lost myself in what it meant to share a remarkable love with another being, and truthfully, I was unsure of how our situation had changed so dralan. by MaybeSomedayx
53013i'm no stranger to [ substances ] or ways to get inside someone's head.53013 by MaybeSomedayx
i'm no stranger to the small of someone's back.
i'm honest when i lie and i lie when i'm honest.
i turn failed attempts
at alcohol fueled encounters
and genuine doses of reality into nightmares.
i crave acceptance and safety,
but i'm running from a woman i don't even know.
i am old enough to have a past,
but young enough to have a future.
i crave warmth, and the idea that i will someday be treasured by another being, in ways that are far beyond comprehension.
i miss my father at night, when i need someone to listen.
i miss my grandfather when my heart aches for those who are
uncomfortable in their own skin.
but june may.i.but june may. by MaybeSomedayx
i am sorry that public service announcements are somewhat ineffective. i am sorry that no matter how hard you try, you will not pass the fitness test. you cannot climb a rope. that is just silly.
i am sorry that your suspenders do not hold up your jeans. i did not know that twelve-year-old boys who are twenty-something on the outside were in need of giant elastic bands. they make large rubber bands, you know.
i am sorry that you always lose at monopoly. i am not sorry that you do not take my advice. i am sorry that you cannot breathe and the air jumps through you and you are a walking pogo stick with plastic bones. i am sorry i did not catch you, and i am sorry you have tubes up your nose.
let's pretend we are
five again, with no worries
and balls of rubber.
they dance and they crawl
onto the concrete, and they
roll down the hills of
putrid green and sad
grey. dead flowers are not easy
to forget. they are
not called forget-me-
nots; they are just called dead. dead,
januarylet's move to a placejanuary by MaybeSomedayx
where it is cold forever
so that we can dance
in the snow, make
angels and sleep in the space
between dawn and night-
fall in the chasm
and dangle in the warmth
of everything we
knew; let's move to a
place where we know no margin
and there's no sign of
love letter to destructioni bent until i broke for youlove letter to destruction by ohsostarryeyed
so that you could use me
until i was beautiful.
you were so welcome in my home.
you were the first who should have
been back on the street,
begging to be let to take advantage,
ravish and ravage, innocent bodies.
sitting here in my panties and socks,
sweater slouching with no arms in its threads,
i am waiting for you to remember
that you are in love with me
when i know you are not.
denial is the spark of stars
catching fire on a gasoline sky.
it is the poetry of hate sex and cold fingers,
knuckles popping underwater,
ringing like pennies.
it is the empty space
between yes and no,
beauty and hatred,
everything and nothing,
love letter to the state of florida1.love letter to the state of florida by successwithhonor
i am not in love with you.
i left you when the leaves turned and i'm back for now,
but only 'til i muster the strength to hoist my bags & run away
believe me, it's not that you're not paradise,
because i've had my fair share of briny breezes & tequila sunrises
and i too have caught myself with my toes in the sand for a tad
blinding white is just too opaque for glass houses and you know
the way the sun shines at midday, that'll melt your face right off
if you stare long enough--
trust me, i know a guy.
last saturday i saw your face on the cover of a national geographic
at the doctor's office,
they caught you singing in the misty rain, voice sweet i remember
like honeysuckle & orange blossoms in the summertime,
there were strands of sargassum woven into your hair, it smelled of
fresh dew, it stole the sun in handfuls and waltzed with the wind
around your shoulder blades;
i found angels sleeping in the crook of your back, skin golden honey
opening to catch saltsp
your name has a familiar tasteunder the moth-like hum of a lamppost,your name has a familiar taste by learningtobefree
your lips molded around hers like a cast
mending a broken wrist.
i stood motionless and watched
as her figure became shapeless,
conforming to your crevices and
letting your hands glide over it
like sudden rain clouds.
as i choked in the outskirts of your paradise,
i couldn't help but wonder if we, too,
looked this way before sickening ourselves.
as we multiplied in fractions and 2 became 1,
did the crunch of the leaves
beneath our backs realize the magic?
your teeth imprisoning my tongue for never too long,
my fingers shaping themselves to the curve of your neck.
our gentle caress disintegrated
like a thunderstorm to a campfire
to solemn ashes and broken twigs.
i first sensed your absence when i knelt in prayer
and your taste was not on the tip of my tongue. from
then on, i ritualized purging myself of every memory.
2 months later and you are still not ridden from me.
regardless of all this mess, your touch is still the epitome of content.