spilled ink – Page 22

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

The people you love are flowers that take root in your heart. Some of them have shallow roots– they are easy to pluck and be forever rid of. However, some have strong, deep roots that intertwine with your veins– roots that you cannot remove without drawing blood. And when you try to yank them out of your heart, no matter how hard you pull, you will almost always leave some root underneath the surface. There are some people you will never fully rid yourself of– there are some people that will always have the tiniest parts of their roots still splintering your heart.

i will never know how deep your roots go, but i know you’re still here // 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

tucking flowers behind your ears
watching the sun dance in the sky
waiting for the air to clear
i never want to leave your side.

from this hill we see the town
i twist my fingers between yours
to keep myself from falling down
because your love my soul secures.

and when the earth begins to shake
fear will not grip my stuttering heart
because with you i know i’m safe
though the world begins to fall apart.

love poem for nobody // a.s.m

craving the structure of a rhyme
to cry out a word and find
one like fingers intertwined
the need for the steady beat
of pounding feet on dirt trails
the answers to an existence
with no right answers.

i’ve been writing in rhythm lately // a.s.m