Phone Poetry About You, February to August 2013

III

Wrap me in your poetry
I want to understand how these feelings never end
Mine
And
Yours
And how I don't know how to make things
Ours

Maybe I'm just broken

IV

I like to write poetry while you sleep
Hoard it in my dragon lair and covet their strengths
Because the words I write about you
Aren't as terrible as the words I write about myself

XI

I love when we talk so close
Your lips brush against mine int he most flattering way
Not
Carnal
Nor
Intentional
But your words burn themselves into my lips
And I savor their flavor as never before

XIII

Your initials are swen into my clothes so they don't get lost at camp
But then I can't rip out the seams

I'm sweltering and drowning within myself

 XV

Sometimes life is so beautiful the clouds look like they've been hung up by literal strings.

XVI

I'm in a one-sided war
About something that means nothing
And everything
All at the same time

XVII

And I stand alone in this skirt I wore to be cute for you
While you wander off to be with the friends that aren't mine
And I onder how long this will last
As the trumpet plays
And I smile in a way that feels far too plastic for my face

You don't want to be That Couple
When sometimes that's what I need
When you put your arm around your friend
But not me

XXII

I want a house
That I can paint bright pastels
So that it sticks out in the snow
And you'll find your way home

XXIV

O would the night were come
I don't want to be alone anymore

XXV

I'm a great bundle of nerves and noise
And nothing will be the same in two months time
For now let's forget this cold beyond
And hold tight to the small victories of Now

I

Stitches and pieces are all I have to give in the moment
As I pull and strain for some way
Any way
To keep my love from spilling
Out and over
With these borrowed words and time

You are my sun and stars
You are what I grope for in the dark
And my selfish body wants to keep you wrapped in my arms
Instead of letting you go

II

The way the birdcage of your soul curves under your skin
It reminds me of all the beautiful things in the world

III

This porcelain heart must needs
Be ripped from my chest
For I cannot breathe
While you are gone

IV

Set fire to my lungs
So that I may speak smoke signals
And fly you home to me

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741