Tag: original poem

there are no words that i could write
to fully repaint that summer night:
the grass deep green, the sky blood red
the thoughts of death flooding my head

the ghost of your warm hands in mine
mem’ries of green eyes and lips of wine
the only thing i wanted to do
was tangle myself back up in you

i sat and watched the city lights
the day slowly melting to night
the way the moon shone– like your face–
drowned the city lights in grace

you left no beauty when you went
my mind gone numb, my heart left spent
i lost control, then came the tears
alone with all my greatest fears

those tears i shed, the guilt i felt
can’t change the cards that i’ve been dealt
and with each step your face will fade
one day i’ll breathe without you, unafraid.

it’s true, i still think of you: but i am getting stronger without you and soon you’ll fade // a.s.m

i long to be just as the earth, 
knowing words are merely what people say.
i’ve suffered through the pain of birth
only from her to be torn away.

my entire life i’ve yearned
to be near to her beating heart,
with time, with patience i have learned
an open mind is where it starts.  

it seems to us a mystery–
how can we hear our mother talk?
don’t rush through life in such hurry;
she speaks in footsteps as you walk.

all she humbly asks of us:
to look at every living thing,
to see the beauty and genius
 
and feel the joy to her they bring.

an ode to my beautiful mother Earth and all fellow living beings. what a beautiful planet we live on // a.s.m

i’ve been cursed
by the ones before
to only know how to 
touch and destroy. 
may i teach my children to
kiss the cracks
in the parched earth, to
still the storms within their souls
by filling themselves with
leaves and soil and small miracles,
to love the collective 
life that binds us all
into one large breath, 
to respect all living, breathing
beings, to find their
steady pulse within 
the soil beneath their bare
feet. so that they may
finally feel the freedom
of knowing the truth: that
we are all soil, too.

a prayer to the universe: may the next generation be better to you than we have been // a.s.m

i can always find home
in a well-lived soul. 
i want to wrap myself in a blanket
cocoon and fall asleep on
an old couch that devours me the way
your arms do. 

i want to curl up on 
your broken-in body and
read the stories in your scars; 
i want to read every damn book
on the shelf. 
i want you to tell me stories about all 
the different places you collected 
the wisdom in your eyes. 

i can find home in you 
like my favorite sandals: the ones with
my footprints molded in, the ones with
creases at the bends of my 
feet, the ones with
creases at the corners of your
eyes when you smile.

you are my home address: living in a box with a barbie is boring // a.s.m

words. sand
on an 
endless
ocean shore
slip through outstretched fingers
slip through my mind
bucket by 
bucket
strain out the gold and
stuff my pockets with
little puzzle pieces 
a mosaic of words 
i string together to 
make a key 
to the locks on 
hearts and minds.

the process of poetry // a.s.m

i’m not yours to keep
wriggling between fingers
that grip so hard. 
drooping
wilting
pulled out of my vase
for too long. 
why this famine? 
your touch is no longer
gentle, no longer
soft. 
i’ve had enough. 
line the streets with
my fallen petals and
when the wind blows, watch
them spell my name.

i am stronger now // a.s.m

i’m still dreaming
about razor blade kisses
on my thighs
on my arms
teasing tongue
on my neck.
my first kiss
ever,
always threatening
to be my last.
the only kiss
to ever make me feel
something.

i still dream of razorblade kisses // a.s.m

ice cube 
goosebumps,
kiss me with snowball
lips. melt the ice
stuck between my teeth; 
melt me.
pour me in a pitcher, 
swallow me whole
so i may glide past your heart
to osmotize into
your cells
and never leave.

i just want to be the water in your body; i want you to need me to survive // a.s.m