if I could ask
for just
one thing
it’d be
to give
as much
as I receive
to take
as much
as I leave
heavy heart
hold steady
breathe
the ties of this earth
will soon release
bound by no laws
&you will be free
poetry + photos
if I could ask
for just
one thing
it’d be
to give
as much
as I receive
to take
as much
as I leave
heavy heart
hold steady
breathe
the ties of this earth
will soon release
bound by no laws
&you will be free
buy into the aesthetic,
the portrayal of a perfect life:
i am my own
edatrix of my edifice,
not a single truth, nor a single lie.
i wish i was a wanderer, a wonderer
but i am a
home body,
home bound,
land tied.
at least i can claim,
i really have tried –
i beat that horse
until it died.
for you i’ve cried,
and drained my pride –
but i think, for now, love,
i’ll just stay inside.
I wasn’t enough
I was too happy
and maybe sad
and maybe mad
too often;
I wanted sex too much
but I couldn’t never get it quite right
could I, love
and my brain could
never soften,
but my heart
was oft too soft.
was it something about
the way that I run?
or was it that I always
have words at the tip
of my tongue,
ready to burst from
the belly of my lungs –
was it fun?
across my skin your fingers brush;
my particles seem to ripple and flush,
a candid effort to rush to your touch.
every bone in my body screams run –
it’s too much, too much.
instead I settle into that sweet disgust,
let my dreams rot and rust.
fingertips are only dust and nothing is just us
(nothing quite left to discuss) –
but we’ve only just begun.
I pulled myself apart to reach
the level I thought I had to be
to give you the love I thought you deserved,
to find the love I’d desperately
wanted to achieve.
unstick yourself from me –
that guilt is crisp on our bloody lips,
I trace your outline with my burnt fingertips.
my touch is a flood
and the love I want
is a trivial fantasy.
it’s not really bated breath and
windswept dreams;
it’s late night hate sweats and
anger stitched with lust
that bursts at the seams.
still I bow at your feet,
still you I serve –
there’s a special valve
in my heart, reserved
just for you.
hesitation,
aspiration,
just a twinge of guilt
rests on my neck.
cysts on my lips,
happy pills crushed between
teeth: my tongue lolls, vacancies – empty
shells, a secret sort of hell.
my beacon doesn’t shine too bright,
my faith doesn’t fly too high.
then there was blood
and it resonates.
i’m searching for something Beyond
what this world has to offer.
fire rains down and in
the mud i drown.
the sun peaks, swallows the hills:
its truth rushing
across the slopes; it
blesses my crown and
pierces my iris.
i raise myself from the dregs,
clear the mire.
clouds swirl and swallow my soul,
whip my skin and
rip the terror from within:
in the light I can see clearly
what you’ve done to me.
cracked bulbs under my feet,
haunted twitches and
your name on my lips
in my sleep.
the dead know all my secrets –
I am my messiah.
armored with this verity,
grief is buried,
heaven sings and
all that’s left is me
you are the ocean
in which I rest;
a hushing lullaby,
an endless love,
a perfect nest.
I relish your warmth
in my bones,
let your waves crest
through my soul.
my skin naturally
drifts to your current,
my heart aches
to sync to your beat –
learn it
earn it –
b e r m u d a !
deliver and devour me,
scourge and scour me,
bury me deep
into your depths,
may I forgive
you for the life you stole.
cradle my sin stained heart,
sink deep into my palms,
and swallow me whole.
bow, knees bent,
hands twisted,
dripping with sweat –
pray the fine divine takes
back what wasn’t mine
to begin with.
“peasants, kings, bend
before my feet –
kneel, girl,
accept defeat.”
I bathe in the lake
of my sins;
to each their own holy water
(mine just happens
to go by the name of gin).
drink the blood
break the bread
worship the flesh
drown in the flood
and I smoke when I’m hungry
(which lately is all the time)
maybe I’m hoping to die, or
maybe if I stay thin,
I can squeeze through these
bars you put me in.
maybe if I happily grin
I can slip out of this
hell in which I’m pinned.
I cry holy,
I cry sanctuary,
again and again.
there’s only this wretch,
this turmoil within.
laughter, from Emmanuel:
my savior, my kin.
gloat.
your gleam,
lost in my throat,
my lids thick with grief;
my mouth locked with disbelief.
someone throw the switch
between brain and
beating heart.
all this thinking doesn’t seem
too smart.
i rumble and tumble
and run back to the start –
we breathe, we bask, we part.
it’s all i know,
it’s all i wrote.