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Saturday, October 31, 2009


My ribs are stretching out, like
a flower blooming except
more painful than beautiful.
I think maybe they need to
be restrained, but I can’t hold
myself tightly enough. Could
you wrap your arms around me?
I’m sure it would work, just be
sure to never let me go.

Another semi-structured poem. 9 lines, 7 syllables per line.
I haven't written anything for Halloween! Oh well.
I don't know what to call this...
"Straining to be Restrained"?

Friday, October 30, 2009


“I know why the leaves fall,” she said,
barely audible above the porch swing’s squeak.
When she didn’t continue, I
asked, “Why?” and she smiled.
“They are in love.”
Still smiling, she sipped
from the aged mug that she gripped
with pinkish white hands, and
continued to say nothing again.
“With whom?” I finally demanded.
“How should I know?” she replied,
“I only know why.”

Imaginary conversation, stemming from me trying to think "outside of the box".
It's a pretty big box...

Wednesday, October 28, 2009


Sometimes, faith
is like clinging to someone's sleeve
and being led through the dark,
whispering, "I'm scared."
Other times it's like a spotlight
shining on a serious wound
that you didn't know you had.
"Where did I get that?" you'd ask,
"And can it be healed?"
Right now (for me, personally),
faith is my life jacket
tied to a boat.
It's the only thing keeping me up, but
I'm not the one driving, so
I have no idea where I'm going to go.
As long as I believe, though,
it's enough for me
to just be able to breathe
and let God be in control.

This stemmed from me having NO IDEA where I'm going with my life.

Monday, October 26, 2009


Hate becomes something physical,
clenched in tight fists
and between grinding teeth,
twitching barely beneath
the skin while heating
arteries and veins.
An object to throw or spit
like poison, almost too hot to hold
and definitely hot enough to hurt.

I had a bad day.
Not today; actually, last Saturday. But anyways.

Saturday, October 24, 2009


I pushed him down like gunpowder
inside of me, until the kiss
(that sparked a bit)
and then he was an explosion.
My heart went past skipping beats
and decided to almost stop entirely.
If that was what people call love,
it was burning me up,
and he was almost too hot to breathe.
Though fires can be warm and pretty
to sit in front of,
there’s a reason we put them out.
The roaring waves of heat swallowed me whole;
when the cool waters of distance
and rejection finally reached me,
I was almost turned to coals.
Thank goodness for small favors, like
indifference and long roads;
without them, I wouldn’t be
happy or cold.

I'm not sure I like this one, but I had the gunpowder bit lodged firmly in my brain & this was the only way to get it out.

Thursday, October 22, 2009


I walk into the room and
we (the room and I) sigh together.
What a lovely fit!
Shelves and crannies and nooks and corners shift
themselves into an order
that best resembles me. I sink into a chair
made just for backs like mine (all mine!)
and all of us together stretch,
creak, and settle one last time.
All of us are confortable, and
all the world is fine.

I forget everything except that the chair was so comfy and there was lots of natural light.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009


The shine of streetlights on the highway
turns the twisting road into a patch of sky,
with rows of small suns stretching into the night.
We are driving in a river of precious stones,
diamonds and rubies that coil and flow
in neat sparkling lines
just under the surface
of a blanket of darkness,
and I swim beneath
the spell of midnight.

I've always seen traffic & the freeway at night as a sort of river of shiny things, and it really is quite gorgeous to me.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009


Sun, please come and smile
on me. My pale and
ailing skin longs to
be caressed by your
bright fingertips and
kissed by your softly
burning lips. My arms
are aching for your
warm regard, I've been
waiting but it's so
hard. Lover, please shine!

11 lines, 5 syllables per line.
Sometimes the sunlight makes me forget what I'm thinking. Very relaxing.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009


Anger is a beastly thing,
all ammonia and aneurysms,
making damsels dismal and
destroying determination.
I have tried to teach
myself to ignore its teeth
and now every bite becomes
only a taste on my tongue,
for I snap back with alliteration,
replacing fury with confused consideration
and sometimes humor.
Curses become a crutch
on which a weaker mind will lean,
so I force myself to stand sometimes
and think of what my words mean.

Saying "fuck" feels good when I'm angry, but it feels a little bit like giving up. So I use alliteration, which forces me to think of what I'm saying & whether or not I'll regret saying it later.

Sunday, October 11, 2009


The slant of sun in
the late afternoon
makes the walls and floors
warmer. Life, from
the heated carpet, seems

It's so short... Like me!
But anyways, patches of sun are the best place to take a nap.

Friday, October 9, 2009


We listened to his favorite songs
until we both could sing along,
never doubting for a moment
that good things never last.
So it wasn’t much of a big surprise
when we each said our own goodbyes.
It seemed to only be a second,
because the fun times go so fast.

Thinking about that saying, "Time flies when you're having fun."
and it rhymes? Weird.

Thursday, October 8, 2009


Her fever bound her to a forest of bedposts
and covered windows,
because it is easier to sleep in the dark.
She couldn’t see anything, but she didn’t need to,
so I just let her talk.
It was hard to hear her so sickly,
like just her voice hurt something within me.
I was partly sad to say goodbye,
but also somewhat glad-
I wanted her to get well soon,
but there was nothing I could do.

I think my maternal instincts are over-developed in some areas, because I honestly wanted to reach through that phone and make her some chicken noodle soup (or something).

Wednesday, October 7, 2009


Arm’s length seems to be
the perfect distance to me,
but it’s all I can do
not to pull in closer to you.
So I tighten my fists,
and I straighten my wrists.
Nothing is certain, but
I don’t want to take the risk.

I guess my mental dry spell is over.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009


There is a place in my brain where
thoughts are rushing around all day,
trying not to trip over each other
and failing miserably. They
shriek and fight and hide in corners
rocking themselves, while some look on in horror
and continue to do nothing. There is another
place where all the other
thoughts are shaking their heads, and they
are quite a bit more friendly than the other ones.
I am gently lifted off the ground and dusted off,
and some nice plump thought
gives me a cup of tea
and wraps a blanket around me.
“There there,” it says,
“we all have our uncertainties.”

Doubt is a terribly destructive thing, and I try to stay as far away from it as possible.

Sunday, October 4, 2009


I can feel Autumn in the whisper of
wind in the trees, like a symphony made
of sighs and sweet nothings. Blue skies above
me contrast brightly as the green leaves fade
to varying shades of fire; this is how
I know that Fall is not only a cold
season, but full of warmth as well. So now
Summer will go, and it never gets old
for me. I will open my arms and heart
in welcome- no one could keep us apart.

A love poem to Fall ♥