I am too much and too little
at the same time. I want to rip
you apart, eat your heart, swallow
your intestines like fine wine. I
sample the little bits of you, greet
your ribcage like an old friend, drag
my tongue across the meaty insides
of your thighs. I can feel your gaze
on me as you slowly shrivel up, drag
fingers delicately across your burning
forehead, trace your scars, simple at best.
And there are holes in my lungs and
throat and stomach and I try to fill
them with your parts, the little bits
of you, eyes and ears and all, I dig my
nails into your skin, pull petals from
the deepest parts of you, pick you
apart piece by pi
monday night football crisis by SmileforSomeone, literature
Literature
monday night football crisis
This poem isn’t a poem. This poem
is the moonlight reflecting off of
your eyelids, pale skin taught under
your throat. This poem is the way your
body bends in the morning, shaky
palms pressing against your eyes, voice
three octaves deeper than normal.
This poem is your mouth on my neck,
the way your fingers play with my
waistband, tug softly on my hip bone,
my snowy wrists bending obediently,
burying my hands in your hair, tongue
on your collarbone and knot in my
throat and sheets rustling and hearts
beating fasterfasterfaster. This poem
is legs entwining and hip bruising and teeth
against skin. This poem is kinetic hate;
this poe
I wake, caught in the cage that
is my body, ancient and bent in
two, fractured spine, ripped
fingernails, baring my teeth at
anything that comes close. My love,
aquatic but evolving, yearns to dig
toes into stagnant mud, forked tongue
tasting the coast between bone marrow
and ocean, finding no difference.
I am not a wild animal,
not the vicious yearning that tugs
at my chest, rips my heart in two.
I am moving into the electric age,
luminescent eyes darting from one
silver screen to another, reimagining
myself as a movie star, crumbling
under the gaze of so many and so few.
I have loved and I still love, love
with my primal cl
There you are, ocean and navy
blue waves, skeleton prying open
my eyes, baby bird clavicle taut
under my fingertips. There you
are, everything and nothing all
at once, turbulent stomach, sharp
tongued and lovely. I try to
pretend, close my eyes and wish
for your touch, feel the daggers
in my spine, ice on my breath.
I grab my toes, raccoon-eyed and
spineless, empty at last.
We feel not safe but better. by SmileforSomeone, literature
Literature
We feel not safe but better.
Here I am, ashy gray and silent,
heavy in my jam jar sarcophagus,
icy catalyst, jet fuel and honeycomb
crawling through my bloodstream.
I watch blue whales filter through
my brain with their baleen smiles,
krill swimming upstream, trout
navigating my tepid esophagus.
Here is where marine meets
mammal meets me, bones and
flesh intertwining with scales,
gills gasping on translucent thighs.
I am everything and nothing,
primitive in my fear, feral with love.
My tired prey limbs limp through
splinters, clamber over porcelain
mugs, dirty and feline, china dolls
restless with beauty. Here I am,
vicious, spineless and cruel, inverte
my body is not my body.
my body is two hundred and
forty six firefly wings stuffed
into an empty ink sack, my body
is the third planet from the sun.
i do not feel real in this body,
in this cage, this tomb that
encases all i am and was and
want to be. this body convulses,
moves in weird ways, fingertips
dancing on thighs, sporadic at best.
he pulls me close, touches my
stomach, my thighs, grabs onto
bike-handle ribs and burrows
inside of me, obstinate until
the end, crawls over my scarred
wrists and puzzles me, makes
me beautiful in a way i've never
been, bends me to him. my body
is a mystery to be solved. my
body is r
suspension of disbelief by SmileforSomeone, literature
Literature
suspension of disbelief
i memorize your angles in the
moonlight, freckles like islands
on a pale ocean, entwined in dark
blue bed sheets and an infinite
span of skin; rough fingers splayed
on whale-bone ribs, a feathered
clavicle, sharp elbows burrowing
under pillows, no air left between us.
i close my eyes and
wonder what it was like
to fall asleep alone.
i am an unfathomable consequence of love.
i am a byproduct of a chemical fire that
has been burning for four point five four
billion years, heels digging into dirt, building
myself over and over again from scratch. i
tilled the bones of therapods, reimagined
saurischian joints as my own, my body
terrible and mighty, grew fangs the size
of my palms, developed a taste for death.
my lover cradles my heart in his, curls up
against my stomach, coaxes my ancient
bones into something beautiful. i shed my
scales, pale skin blossoming over newborn
fossils, grow my love for him in my throat,
roses blooming in my lungs.
i fall asl
I am too much and too little
at the same time. I want to rip
you apart, eat your heart, swallow
your intestines like fine wine. I
sample the little bits of you, greet
your ribcage like an old friend, drag
my tongue across the meaty insides
of your thighs. I can feel your gaze
on me as you slowly shrivel up, drag
fingers delicately across your burning
forehead, trace your scars, simple at best.
And there are holes in my lungs and
throat and stomach and I try to fill
them with your parts, the little bits
of you, eyes and ears and all, I dig my
nails into your skin, pull petals from
the deepest parts of you, pick you
apart piece by pi
monday night football crisis by SmileforSomeone, literature
Literature
monday night football crisis
This poem isn’t a poem. This poem
is the moonlight reflecting off of
your eyelids, pale skin taught under
your throat. This poem is the way your
body bends in the morning, shaky
palms pressing against your eyes, voice
three octaves deeper than normal.
This poem is your mouth on my neck,
the way your fingers play with my
waistband, tug softly on my hip bone,
my snowy wrists bending obediently,
burying my hands in your hair, tongue
on your collarbone and knot in my
throat and sheets rustling and hearts
beating fasterfasterfaster. This poem
is legs entwining and hip bruising and teeth
against skin. This poem is kinetic hate;
this poe
I wake, caught in the cage that
is my body, ancient and bent in
two, fractured spine, ripped
fingernails, baring my teeth at
anything that comes close. My love,
aquatic but evolving, yearns to dig
toes into stagnant mud, forked tongue
tasting the coast between bone marrow
and ocean, finding no difference.
I am not a wild animal,
not the vicious yearning that tugs
at my chest, rips my heart in two.
I am moving into the electric age,
luminescent eyes darting from one
silver screen to another, reimagining
myself as a movie star, crumbling
under the gaze of so many and so few.
I have loved and I still love, love
with my primal cl
There you are, ocean and navy
blue waves, skeleton prying open
my eyes, baby bird clavicle taut
under my fingertips. There you
are, everything and nothing all
at once, turbulent stomach, sharp
tongued and lovely. I try to
pretend, close my eyes and wish
for your touch, feel the daggers
in my spine, ice on my breath.
I grab my toes, raccoon-eyed and
spineless, empty at last.
We feel not safe but better. by SmileforSomeone, literature
Literature
We feel not safe but better.
Here I am, ashy gray and silent,
heavy in my jam jar sarcophagus,
icy catalyst, jet fuel and honeycomb
crawling through my bloodstream.
I watch blue whales filter through
my brain with their baleen smiles,
krill swimming upstream, trout
navigating my tepid esophagus.
Here is where marine meets
mammal meets me, bones and
flesh intertwining with scales,
gills gasping on translucent thighs.
I am everything and nothing,
primitive in my fear, feral with love.
My tired prey limbs limp through
splinters, clamber over porcelain
mugs, dirty and feline, china dolls
restless with beauty. Here I am,
vicious, spineless and cruel, inverte
my body is not my body.
my body is two hundred and
forty six firefly wings stuffed
into an empty ink sack, my body
is the third planet from the sun.
i do not feel real in this body,
in this cage, this tomb that
encases all i am and was and
want to be. this body convulses,
moves in weird ways, fingertips
dancing on thighs, sporadic at best.
he pulls me close, touches my
stomach, my thighs, grabs onto
bike-handle ribs and burrows
inside of me, obstinate until
the end, crawls over my scarred
wrists and puzzles me, makes
me beautiful in a way i've never
been, bends me to him. my body
is a mystery to be solved. my
body is r
suspension of disbelief by SmileforSomeone, literature
Literature
suspension of disbelief
i memorize your angles in the
moonlight, freckles like islands
on a pale ocean, entwined in dark
blue bed sheets and an infinite
span of skin; rough fingers splayed
on whale-bone ribs, a feathered
clavicle, sharp elbows burrowing
under pillows, no air left between us.
i close my eyes and
wonder what it was like
to fall asleep alone.
i am an unfathomable consequence of love.
i am a byproduct of a chemical fire that
has been burning for four point five four
billion years, heels digging into dirt, building
myself over and over again from scratch. i
tilled the bones of therapods, reimagined
saurischian joints as my own, my body
terrible and mighty, grew fangs the size
of my palms, developed a taste for death.
my lover cradles my heart in his, curls up
against my stomach, coaxes my ancient
bones into something beautiful. i shed my
scales, pale skin blossoming over newborn
fossils, grow my love for him in my throat,
roses blooming in my lungs.
i fall asl
There is an emptiness in your mouth,
a gaping maw of black. You swallowed suns,
drank the star-dust dry.
Helene, raise your moon-arc face
and turn the sky. Part your lips.
Your breath - a prayer. Your words -
the black-hole roar;
merely a gasp.
strangers loving strangers by SmileforSomeone, literature
Literature
strangers loving strangers
first your dreams turn violent, cotton-eyed
children clawing holes in places inside of
you, places you never knew existed, utopia
unrealized, then they disappear completely
leaving you empty, a saint, a martyr for a
cause you never believed in. your eyes will
close slowly and your body will sink into
the ground, all dust and blood and noontime
apocalypse. venus is resting on your shoulder,
her chaotic storms racing through the holes in
your most sacred undiscovered places, acid
burning through your tongue. you will drift,
empty parts and missing parts and parts that
never fit no matter how hard your tried to sink
into t
Love, electricity, shockwave central, pummel on the motherboard, yes. Push up, overload, legendary heavy glow, sunshine, thunder roll, keep it all together.
I'm not going to go into detail about what has been happening in my life for way too long but I just want everyone to know that I'm doing a lot better and I've made some really big decisions in my life that have changed it for the better and I'm just feeling really good about everything right now and it's just awesome.
Anyway, I'm trying something different with my poetry and I could use some contructive feedback please. :) This won't be a permanent style change, I just want to broaden my horizons.
So far I have only read a few of your works..and I love them. You make me think, and that is not something many can make me want to do. That is a good thing, by the way. . I really like what you have written so far. Keep up the excellent work!