I kissed a girl
L O L
I told you not to let me go
When you wrapped your arms around
I forgot that you couldn’t hear my thoughts like I hear them ringing in my head
My vocal chords don’t project
Like they used to.
Too many words make it to my throat
But never end up rolling off the
it’s okay to cut the bad parts out of your life, even if they were the favorite parts for a long time. i just want to know who i am without the influence of another person and put myself before everyone else for once in my life.
Sour Patch Kids
I bled on you in bed and
You told me it was ok
I cried while you were in the shower
But you told me it was ok
I bled on you
I cried on you
I slept with you
But in the end
You said you weren’t ok.
I don’t usually think of you before I go to sleep but
This memory keeps popping into my head
But it’s not one I wish to keep.
i jump too fast
so fast that i forget whether the bottom of each cliff is
lined with water or rocks.
lately i just end up cracking my head open
instead of drowning.
i don’t think i am a very good friend-
because i talk about me more that i let you
talk about your tea ceremonies
which i don’t even know if you take classes for
because thats how little we talk about you and
i miss when you told mrs. mcdevitt her lesson was bullshit because
and you left the class and
i was there for that and
you and i were friends.
now i feel like we’re just pretending because i don’t let you speak
and you don’t let me live without repremand and
i don’t care that you care except i do
but i never let anyone touch my opinions anymore.
I took shots with the city girl.
Freckles like cinnamon,
skin like polished pearl.
I found a home inside her eyes
I found a better world.
Her energy enveloped me
and mine the same to her.
A blissful mist enshrouded us,
the past a distant blur.
I haven’t felt this warm
This is fabulous.
curly haired boys make me dizzy
following each loop on their head
wondering where it will lead you to.
it’s like when you see someone on the subway and your eyes
slide over each limb
starting with their fingers or
and ending at a cuffed sleeve or the hem of their
wondering what is underneath their clothes.
but never getting close enough to feel the texture of their skin or
slip a finger in each curl.
i don’t know.
everyone is pathetic.
Not Bad Closure
and it’s funny how your voice was never carved into my memory
after all the times i replayed that voicemail of
your fake apology.
i’m sure it wasn’t fake at the time but
as i listen to it now i hear nothing but a whine
in your voice. i used to hit replay to see if i
for you but-
when i heard your voice there were no changes in my stomach
and i could still breathe through my lungs. indifference.
no hatred or resentment
and definitely no love.
so what was it?
what was the sound i heard before we didn’t say goodbye to each other for the last time?
connecticut filtered the sound of your voice like
a government radio
and now i don’t remember a single word that came through that speaker.
but i’m happy that the plank of wood underneath you feels better than
the heat of my body.
because i realized that four hours of drunk sex
wasn’t worth the damage from the weight of your fears that pressed against my chest.
i deleted you from my life
along with your whiney voicemail.
Every day she asks me why i won’t get up.
Every day i lay there, letting her words drown me like my bed covers, while i try to think of an answer:
who refused to drink society’s kool-aid,
am so wrapped up in romantic comedies i literally
get sick after stalking each plot line in order to figure out the criteria
i’m supposed to hold, each MAN who walks into my life,
who refused to drink the kool-aid
bathed in it instead
allowing it to still seep into my pores and
hinder my own thoughts of how i want to be treated.
or how i want to love.
i am just like every other stupid
so when you ask me why i hate to get up in the morning
hate to go to school and hate to “hop in loser we’re going shopping”
maybe it’s because i’d rather sleep forever than
dissolve into the crowd just like everyone else.
just like you.
But these thoughts never pry through my lips as words.
instead i mumble “five more minutes”
just like every
in the movies.