Tag: spilled ink

i want to see all of you,
every inch. every
mountain, every forest,
every ocean, every river
and canyon. i want to know
every mark on the map,
and i want to fall in love
with all of it.
i want to see and know
this is where i belong.
that you are a part of me
as much as i am a part of you.

let me lie in your valleys // a.s.m

you make me feel
something scary and
yet so comforting,
consuming. you are
a contradiction,
a recipe for disaster,
and yet i love you.
perhaps instinct
trumps common sense
in matters of the
heart.
perhaps my fear of
intimacy
will melt under your lips
and i will let you run them all over me.

exedo // a.s.m

your breath, warm
milk and roses.
your arm, a barrier
for intruders-separating
us from the world.
i don’t know
the time or where
i am or what i was
supposed to be doing;
i only know
your heartbeat, the heat of
your lips, warm
milk and roses.

warm milk & roses // a.s.m

i’ve never not wanted to write
about love before, 
but every minute
my pen is to this paper 
is a thought you have without me, 
a smile i may miss, 
a lost opportunity to tell you 
i love you i love you 
i love you.

why i haven’t written any poems about you lately // a.s.m 

I. EVACUATION
run
without thinking. 
let your feet slap 
the pavement. you need
to get out of here before
they burn you alive. 
i know it hurts. sometimes
you have to
save yourself first.

II. VIRGINITY
no footprints in the snow.
you’ve not yet learned to
not let everyone in.

III. BLESSED CHILD
you’ve been vandalized
you throw your body
off of cliffs
so you can know how
it feels to fly.
you’re branded and scarred,
and you only know
how to smile.

fire, ice, and heaven // a.s.m

the best time to write is when
i’m sorry or sleepy because
the words flow unapologetically–
they do not try so hard to sound good.

there is a drum in the front of my brain,
and I don’t know if it’s
because of the rain or the way
the dentist drilled my gums today.

it is empty in the house, but too loud
with my mother’s anxieties,
and the air is heavy with tears
that are shed once the lights go out– 
shed like room for growth and
thicker walls– 
shed like hair, like skin,
to make room for
something new and healthy and strong.

what do we shed with our tears?
our weakness? our pain?

what do we shed with our tears? // a.s.m

i have been waiting.
through skin untouched
and sallow love.
i have been waiting;
i believe
it has been for you.

could it be
you are a shadow from
my dreams?
your voice,
where have i heard that
tone?
why does it sound so much
like home?

you’re so familiar to me // a.s.m

WEARY TRAVELER FINDS REST
WITHIN THE HEART OF A CHILD:
we are 
a miracle the world chortled
at thinking existed, a dream 
within a dream.
too far beyond
the imagination, a
hallucination of the heavens.

hallucination of the heavens // a.s.m