Wonder/Wander

poetry

I wonder if he knows
he is the reason why my eye twitches-
every time honesty is put on a pedestal

My eyes trail the words “trust me” as they float from his mouth
into the air- only to make its way to the open window
and jump to its death

Cowardice like the man who spoke them.

I wonder if he knows
he is the reason my natural instinct is to always be alert
Like a police officer beckoning that seatbelt to be undone
or a server waiting for the cheap family of 8 to leave

Rather than roasting under the hot spell of love
I search for shadows attached to his heels
to prove my deepest anxieties were true

I wonder if he knows
he is the reason my feet ache
From always being on my tippy toes
so that I am never looked down at again
because I’d rather my toes ache
instead of my neck

I wonder if he knows
Just like the spider that bit spiderman
A superpower rooted from my wounds
and I am thankful, because without it
I’d probably have nothing to write about.

Barefeet and broken glass

poetry

I shared the tips of my fingers
Caressed them deep into your scars
So that even the parts which hurt the most
Can feel warmth

I shared the mane blooming from my mind
and wrapped it tightly around your fist
So that with every move I make
The tug will remind me
of you

I shared my aching neck
burdened with holding the weight of my thoughts
As daydreams of you taunt the sun
and fantasies drift with the moon

I shared the last of my innocence
Gave up the crown and glass slipper
Because I’d rather share a typewriter
And tiptoe barefoot around the broken glass of whiskey

I shared my heart; palpitations, pain, and all
And although cliches have never been my thing
It’s yours- naked and afraid.

The butterflies and the bees

poetry

People always say that love is bright
but it burned right through my hazel eyes
What kind of love is heavenly
when all I’ve sensed is the devil daring me

That clear blue ocean they reference religiously
has been overrun with predators who follow relentlessly
and the glass of summer wine will escalate
to empty bottles littering the landscape

Oh, and how beautiful to compare a red rose to your love
until I came to realize it is the same colour as fresh blood
and I wouldn’t count on that glow in your smile to stay
The black shadows beneath your eyes are not easy to escape

So tell me again, how your love is like a tree in full bloom
home to thousands of butterflies reflecting off the moon
Then come to me again, right before their extinction
and tell me how you miss those monarch’s distinction

Go on about the beauty in the movement of their wings
and how it gave a sense of promise compared to your past stings
Then I will remind you again how easy it is to believe
that butterflies dominate the population of bees

Him

poetry, Uncategorized

His smiles so bright, a comfort I cannot describe
Like the fumes from gasoline, rearing me into a high
But ultimately, I know, he’ll do nothing but harm
And I’ll float down from cloud 9 right into his shadowy arms

His eyes so relaxing, a calmness like the sea
But the deeper I look into them, the harder it is to breathe
And as the waves push me further from the land I desire
I am slowly dragged downwards into his underwater empire

His hands filled with warmth, a touch that sends shockwaves through my veins
But you can never have lightning, without the undeniable rain
And as I look around for shelter, I’m surrounded by trees
The biggest bait to nature’s electric masterpiece

Once the storm has calmed, and I lye drenched and afraid
From nowhere, there he is, carrying an umbrella with my name
I smile because he came, even though it was too late
And I fall back into the cycle, because somehow, it is worth the rain.

The questions of love

perspective

When i get asked about love, it’s never the right questions.

Does love have a good job with an above average income? An income you can eventually take half of? A car worth triple your life savings and a mansion with a 5 car garage? Does love wear tailored suits or jackets lined with fox corpses? Oh and love better come from a good family with an even better bank account! Does love pay for all of your meals and shower you with gifts?  Did you find your true love?

These are the questions I am surrounded by, because love to some is a synonym for stability, convenience and comfort.

They don’t ask me if love does everything in his power to make me feel beautiful.They don’t ask if love tries to make me happy even when circumstances are rough. They don’t want to know about the butterflies that fill my stomach or the smile he puts on my face. God forbid they ask if love is trustworthy and loyal. They don’t take into account how love drops his pride for forgiveness or travels 3 hours by bus just to see my face.

Love has many definitions but unfortunately some exclude genuine happiness as one.

Roulette

poetry

You kept telling me I had talent, waiting to burst out of my skin
You said I was royalty, and your honour to be king
You said my brain was filled with colour, seeping out of my ears
And every time I spoke, passion poured out like tears

But then you told me I was fruitless, my mind just a wastefill
You told me there were hundreds like me,  a blueprint you could build
You burned my paper crown and sucked the passion from my words
Then showered me in guilt as you continued your purge

Then you told me you were sorry, it was all in your head
You said your past haunts you and sleeps under your bed
You said you loved me, as flames circled us like prey
Then threatened to lose balance unless I chose to stay

The worst of it all, is because of my refusal,
You spun the roulette of emotions and anger filled your pupils
So I pulled up my anchor and gently sailed away
As you brewed storm’s to follow that still chase me till this day

Ain’t it beautiful, how ugly life can be?

poetry

Ain’t it beautiful, how ugly life can be?
How a smile so radiant can hide a shadow so dark
Or a cigarette so deadly forms smoke like rising art
Withered rose pedals beginning to stray,
A truthful view of beauties habit never to stay
A book ripped and ruined from reading in every corner
But that decayed book tells more than one story
Ain’t it beautiful, how ugly life can be?
Sacrificing our health for memories we won’t remember
Laughing at the vulnerability of a man so tender
The quick rush of adrenaline, never worth the guilt
Or the degrading experiences ruining the persona you’ve built
The undying love for a man drowning in his own vanity
And the euphoria before hitting the brink of insanity
Ain’t it beautiful, how ugly life can be?

Bukowski

perspective

He burns, under my skin.
all three fucking layers;
physically, mentally and spiritually.

You want to play the guilt game? Well I can play it too.

You can’t keep wrapping silk around the wounds you caused.
You can’t cover up your harsh words with letters of love.
You can’t throw a pity party as your optimistic thoughts dance to their deaths.
You can’t sharpen your nails like spears then try to caress me.

And you can’t fix the paranoid love you ripped to shreds with your own insecurities.

And yea, I will happily keep reading Bukowski with a glass of red in my hand.

Be yourself

perspective

Just a worn out face with wine-stained lips and cigarette breathe. I will never stop laughing at my young naïve self for thinking life would be a soft stroke of paint, preparing for a masterpiece to be revealed.

Instead my brush broke through the canvas and the paint was splattered all over the floor. So I kept trying to paint new pieces,  narrowing this image in my head. Craving to create something better, something worth wall space.

Somewhere down the line, I realized I cannot pretend and imitate, cannot trace and colour in-the-lines. At the end of the day, that beautiful mess on the floor is me; the chaos and ruin will always be me.

It defines me

That is what raw art is right?

Something you never want to look at, but cannot keep your eyes off of.

Leave It Naked

poetry

We are all cruel.
Don’t dress up the truth,
Leave it bare, naked and wet.
Just like us tonight baby.
Tangled together with our insecurities reflecting off the light.
Perspiration forming above our eyebrows, professing our intimacy.
Don’t wipe it off baby.
I want to watch you in your most vulnerable,
Watch you undress yourself with hesitation and doubt.
Let you guide me towards each flaw for me to delicately kiss,
Because that’s what I find most intriguing about you.
The parts of you that take the longest to reveal to me.
I want the truth naked,
Just like us baby.
I want you to recite everything you hate about yourself,
So that I can prove to you that there is nothing to hate.
I will brush my lips atop every inch of your skin,
And watch you cringe as goosebumps form when I reach your insecurities.
I will skim my fingertips into the crevice of your scars,
To show affection to even the areas that hurt the most.
I want the truth wet,
Just like us baby.
As my skin strokes yours,
I can feel us blend and mould,
Like one body of water, following the waves of our affection.
Diving into each other,
Without a single thought of what may lye beneath the surface
Forgetting the demons, storms and pollution.
You’ll love yourself baby,
As long as I love you.
Our tortured sleeves will no longer hide the lies carved into our skin.
Flaunt it baby.