Flames

It is the cool glide of ink
That leads her-

Hand goes heart-ward

Breeding, kneading

The toughness from its flesh:

The beat is back.

It is him, The Moon, cool pull

Dragging the blood through her veins.
The tide is crimson and
Thick, quick as sand

The sorrow has ebbed,

The storm has stilled.

The stars are ageless
In his eyes

The sky is blue curls around

His fingers

His voice flows in waves.

The room leans in.

His words gently bend us
Trees in wind,
Collide,
Fall.
The earth is softer now.

They are sick

sick

sickly sweet

white teeth and laces every edge

increased and faded.

Glossy goddesses,
hair a cascade
outstretched arms
in gauzy facade.

Light pouring on them:

Thin

red-lipped

inhaling

kissing

dancing

suspending

in stilled frame.

"Aren't I

aren't I glamorous

in my collared boned shame?

Don't you wish you were me,

with sunken, mocking face?

I am the picture of perfecteion

my eye-lights never fade

I am guiltless temptations

but beauty knows no pain."

Shedding Gravity

(I wrote this a few months ago and performed it in a slam for my poetry class. It was inspired here in all of your blogs so I feel I should share it, I just didn't have the courage until now... So here it is <3)

Shedding Gravity

We begin as whispers,
Keyboard klick- klacks in midnight dress,
Floating through a nowhere-land of status,
And judgments.
We aren’t aiming for anything but survival.

As I stand in the mirror,
They are the fleeting thought that,
“I’m not good enough.”And we take that in as a part of ourselves.
Black branches against a yellowed sky
Thinning as we grow.

If school is white waters then we are twigs,
Slammed against the corners
Colliding with fish
And latching on for survival.

Perfection isn’t real,
But we are whole,
We obey,
We take notes,
Do hair, smile
Chew, swallow, and repeat
Without question.

One day those mirror thoughts
Tickle a nerve,
Pickle my face
Before my eyes
This scale lies.
I become treadmill mounting
Pinching my sides because I am not enough:
Smart enough,
Strong enough,
Pretty enough,
Thin enough.
Soon I see that I cannot run all day!
That running, even for hours, is not enough.
So I “cut down.”
I am not a tree reaching at nothing,
I am strong branches ripping down the sky.

And I catalog.
Because 1000
No 700
No 500
No 300 calories is still too much.
Because pounds were created to be dropped.
I am screaming inside
Because I can’t lose 3 pounds
And my goal is 97
But I’m lost in the sea,
Somewhere between 100 and 99.

I join the echoes,
The whispered screams
The middle of the night tears
drip-dropping on the keys.
My body is weak,
But I am not alone,
For once.

In this worlds it is easier
To count by two’s
Learn your ABC’s
And lose weight.
Because people judge us by
How we act and how we look,Not by who we are.
Because there is one sure way
to get to heaven:
By smiling on command,
Wearing big sweaters
To hide your bulging tendons,
And losing.

Because without mass…
… there is no gravity

I thought this up while searching for new pictures for my Wishes page.
(I suggest you sing Masquerade from The Phantom Of The Opera while reading :)  )



It was in the way he looked at me,

across the busy ballroom
His cloak like wings,

his fingers like strings,

a dance was sure to follow.
He smiled a deviant,
whispered in lace

and asked me near,
with sparkling eyes
to have a dance beneath
the twinkling chandelier.

If I could flavor you I would call you ocean,
salted softly, in borrowed beauty
relfecting what I want to be.

If I could name you, you would be summer

cottonwood floods in cool straw laces.

If I could hold you, it would be like fireworks,
unrully,
beautious,
dangerful.

I must teach myself to let you go,

so up in the air you might explode

into all that you were meant to be

star flakes risen without me.

I am winds,

whispered in hushed tones over flickers of bright blue

You are water,

cooling streams of ebb

molding from me impossible mirrors.

Look
see,
and weep

we are not what we seem,

we belong  to earth and moons

we arrange ourselves, pen in hand,
to cause and heal troubled wounds.

I do not own this photo