and i told him in my dream i miss you i miss you
but who you are now is not who you were
when i knew you the best
and i asked him to let me go
and he smiled again at me and said
and i laughed and i cried
and i pray i never see him again
because to have the tranquil refuge of my dream
invaded by his presence, once loved,
is just another waking hell
please let this be the last time i see you
sometimes i mourn you like you’re dead
by chance, our last glance is burned in my mind
and when you disappeared when i needed you most
i kept dreaming of you. and the dreams were soft.
and you smiled at me and maybe forgave the me who you thought I was
maybe it would be better had you actually died
because i miss you so much
because i want you so much
i hear a voice, passive, passionate, and wonder if you still do art
i had to give away the painting you made for me
because dreaming of california freedom is punishment
and i will arrive on the mountain range without you
and california freedom will be my prison
When I try to remember your laugh
I hear something unfamiliar
It’s not in the moment
It’s not you
Maybe i thought i was your savior
Under a dull laptop glow i saw you sleeping
I thought of all the ways i could kill you
Because if you didn’t exist, i wouldn’t be in this pain
And that laugh becomes twisted in my ears
I really just wish it was the sound of you
Eating from cafeteria plates, stolen,
Clinking against forks, also stolen
HOLD UP, you think to yourself as you are browsing through dewdropper bopper. I keep track of this. Where is #8 for 2016?
Sad (or ecstatic) to say, that 8 is STILL IN PROGRESS! I’ve been writing it over the past couple of weeks. I have this vision and I’m working on it. The point of this 100 poems a year has been to plug out poems and maybe find some nice phrases and ideas, here and there, but I do feel like my #8 really has some potential. So, in an attempt not to delay my postings, I am posting 9 ahead of 8, and I might end up posting a few more before it, but I hope it will be worth the wait. Without further ado, here is #9 california love.
I sometimes still dream about you
it feels so good to say your name
Your name radiates my body and tickles my neck hair
But even my dream-self is heavy with an underlying grief
and I miss you and I miss you and i miss you
I don’t know what to say when I wake up
Sweat glazing my body like a fired ceramic statue
I turn around and know the familiar surroundings won’t help
I am desperate for some semblance of closure
I fall back asleep and say I’m sorry
You smile and you mouth, for what? silly.
I can’t hear you, but I watch as you gently turn away
Fading into a snapshot of how I last saw you:
Eager, enlightened, and smiling
it took me 10 years to realize that love was not instantaneous
when i began dating at 14, every relationship was wonderland
i would bite my tongue, i would memorize their favorite songs
i’d suck their souls out through their dicks, a whole collection,
yadda yadda yadda
But what was love and what was dick sucking?
There was, evidently, a fine line that I could not comprehend
It took me 10 years to realize love was not instantaneous
and it took me an instant to realize that I had been a fool
played and played again by my own hand
I soiled my mouth, my words couldn’t come out
in a violent explosion, the contents of my heart emptied
and allowed me, for the first time, a relative clarity
the shelf of virginities I stored in my bedroom were a construct
and the shelf was poorly constructed to begin with
it made for easy renovation, a new revival, new survival
So I tore apart my room and I tore apart myself
in an instant I watched as the dried layers of tears and blood slid to the floor
and, exasperated, thanked God for this lesson
and i wouldn’t have had it any other way
if it’s going to take 5 minutes to love you then I’ll make them the slowest 5 minutes of your life. the general consensus is that I am an excellent lover. i misjudge character and give it my all anyway.
as i peer into your eyes it’s almost as if I never knew how to see. an incredibly warm sadness begins to drip down from between my legs. it embarrasses me and I’m one tough cookie to crack.
its savage. i feel the tangled mass of veins in my brain become wired. its like a how i imagine heroin or cocaine would feel. the downside to never having done hardcore drugs is that i still suffer from week long withdrawal symptoms – migraines, a numb face, watching the wall spiral around lulling me to sleep.
I grit my teeth beneath my thick, lipped smile because I think you can’t see it (i’m still not entirely sure). I can feel my rib cage smiling.
I use the back of my hand to ski down your shoulder and arms.
I wrote this in 5 minutes. It was very energizing.
And I’m 1/4 done with my goal. It’s good to know. I’m glad people have been able to see this.
Ask me for my views on ribs, the sun sinking in the west, and lemon lime sparkling water.
sometimes i pretend you’re sentimental
but don’t get my hopes up
even though you tell me
because i am drifting
into the dreams where I can feel your love
I take a quick shower
lean against the tiles, stained blue
a subtle smile, inhale steam
soap up my body, rinse, repeat
I pretend that you’re romantic
I buy myself flowers
but I offer them to you
because I don’t feel I deserve them
it doesn’t even have to be Valentine’s Day
lets go massacre all the haters
I dream you will notice me
in our relationship
turn your eyes to me, naked
belly belly, oversized bow tie
an awkward pose
fertility goddess pose
eyes like a cat, can’t see into your soul
I dream I can feel your love
but I only can when I’m asleep