Tag: tumblr original poem

his hands made me drunk.
his hands made me really fucking
drunk
and his lips
his lips made me drunk,
too.
but i’ve never been
one for alcohol, really, 
because wine makes me cry
and beer makes me angry.

hangovers suck and sobering up is a bitch so be careful who you let get you drunk // a.s.m 

when
his fingers strum you
all you can do is sing.
or wail.
sometimes it sounds more like wailing.
and whatever he’s feeling comes out of your mouth.
whatever he’s thinking.
whatever he’s saying inside
comes out of you instead and
your throat’s sore from all the screaming
he’s feeling; from all the anger
little peach pits in his stomach
and you regurgitate them and
your throat is bloody red.

Guitarra // a.s.m

please please please stop building
these walls just so that you can tell me
i’m crossing the line.
remember when we shared a
womb for nine months?
there were no lines then, just
innocence and warmth. i want
to take you back there.

remember when the doctor explained why
you were so small and weak when you were born?
i took
all the nutrients from the placenta.
i took
your strength, and i wish i could
give it back to you now because
i’m scared to see you fall
knowing i cannot do anything to save you.
i want this to be my fault.
i want to take away this
darkness within you and burn it myself
so i cannot watch
you crumble.

i wish i could transfuse to you all
i’ve learned from the scars
on my arms and thighs and the heartbreak
i’ve been given and the heartbreak i’ve caused
so that you wouldn’t have to feel it all.
i am standing with my hands up
ready to surrender myself in your place, but
i know i cannot do your time
when the prison is within the walls of your mind.

for my brother, Alex: i want to save you from your addiction, but i know you have to learn how to fight it on your own. please know how much i love you. // a.s.m

sometimes
reality is a red chevy 4X4 that
hits you at 103 mph– 
windshield crashing
broken glassy
eyes
realizing all you want nearby
is someone to hold you–  
sometimes it moves 
too fast. 
sometimes it leaves you
breathless.

your life is not definite. it is fragile, and your presence on this planet is in everybody else’s hands but your own. // a.s.m

i asked you for space, 
but i don’t think your shadow understood
because i see it’s reflection in the sky
in the shape of the crows when they fly.
i know you have no reason 
to not want to say goodbye,
but remember how i made you feel 
when i whispered my way into your ear
to form mountains up and down your spine, 
where your imagination would crawl to 
places i did not know existed.

maybe you’ll always exist in me somewhere, but you wanted more than i ever thought i could give. // a.s.m

the day you told me you loved me, 
i cried. because
if walking away without saying
a word
while I am telling you how
the darkest parts of my soul seem to be
black holes and 
they are sucking me in,
or ignoring me so you can
smoke weed and watch netflix
alone,
or saying I’m not a priority,
means ‘I love you,’
I am terrified that those 
three words define 
something that doesn’t actually
exist.

did it really mean anything? // a.s.m

i’m in some sort
of fucked up purgatory.
dancing between
reaching for the phone and
reaching for my throat
because
it’s my fault you’re gone
it’s my fault i’m gone
but at least i’m not
on fire anymore.

and i want to call you.
sometimes i go so far as to
hear the dial tone before i remember
i deleted your number
and never bothered to memorize it.
i never thought i’d need to.

and sometimes i go so far as to
imagine what it would be like to have you
in my life again until
i remember how much it hurt
the first time around;
how heaven and hell were never meant to be
together because
that’s what being with you was and
it was a cycle so vicious
i couldn’t for the life of me tear myself away.

but i did.

and in the process i lost
my skin from where
we were attached
at the hips.
the scar reminds me why i cannot go back.
because my hands might as well be ghosts,
the way they touch you.
because my lips are useless
if they never meet your skin.
because i will always love you,
and you
will always love someone else.

and even on my best days, my soul wasn’t enough // a.s.m

My Least Favorite Word

Probably:
the guarantee
of a lukewarm promise that
may or may not be
broken.

Probably: like babbling
brooks and babies. Like
babbling on and on and on;
empty words
just to fill the space
you were so afraid
of.

Probably:
a thumbs up for empty air and
words that pop like bubbles.
A contract signed with
probably in the
fine print scares me.

As I curl into your back I whisper:
will you still love me in the morning?
Only the sticky air replies:
hopefully,
maybe,
probably.