#13cupsofteareblog

And I will run

and run and run

through all the time

to find you

and I will search the whole world

if I have to

because being without you

is not an option

-MayAPoetBe (draft)

see the world passing by

through your inner eye

trying different lifes

in multiple times

on earth and in the sky

-MayAPoetBe (draft)

I love you more than anything

I hate just as much

I wish you would feel

anything at all for me

How can I live without you?

How could I live with you?

My heart is broken

- MayAPoetBe (draft)

I don’t know what it is

that makes me love you

I just know I can’t stop

i was seven years young
the first time i dreamed
of the papillon,
dancing through the garden.

and even now,
i sense the nostalgia those wings bring;
a reminder of a kind of magic
found only there,
amongst the flowers of my mind.

there is no more to do
but sit
wrapped in wool & a good read
palmful of soft blanket,
pulled up to my chin

restful, in the wake of the day
peaceful, in the very best way

brush me ‘adieu’ in lieu of a goodbye

because a breeze as you leave

is preferred

to that empty sigh of a reply…

“goodbye”

abrighterspark:

“distance makes the heart grow fonder”

has always been a lie…

distance makes the heart grow weary

of waiting on replies

the afternoon bus

through the music in my ears for me and no one else the pitch of the engine ascends

we follow the downward slope of old macdonald street down to the sea and mountains

taking off into the weightless air skimming flat roofs and powerlines casting gazes upwards at an early moon

for one second I imagine us all strangers but so close

under pressure

the sky had never seemed more distant and more welcoming

I tore my elbows open on the cracked ground

I laid my head by the metal-link fence and felt the cold brand my cheek

through the diamonds I watched them say goodbye

pressed against the ground I wanted

I wanted some helicopter to fling me down a line

and pull me off this earth

I was tired, goddamm tired, of being scared and bloody

come on! lower down! bring me up!

but I could never say the words or feel them but as molten weights

instead I curled up on the crushed weeds and waited for the blood to dry

to scratch off the flakes and walk

I walked to the end of the chainlink fence and could I go any further?

up above there was only darkness

and that had to hide whatever scream I have

end of the factory line

this green velvet armchair  it said in the packaging that it can hold one hundred years’ weight quite a promise for a crumpled paper booklet (without staples!) I give it a couple of years before it goes, weight limit unreached.  there are no hundred years in surplus,  in cold warehouses there are a hot handful 

before this plucked piece of comfort, this unraveling shrine of contentment, this  glued hideaway falls

september 23

i am lying in this rain i blur like watercolor and people tell me it is good

i drop somebody, won’t you hold me? warm me up?

i can’t take the waking but the rain is good

winter blues

freckles of snow

anchor craves my skin

caught in this world and below

(we grew up near the ocean)

goodbye mother, goodbye father

rust of kin

music we small ones do not hear only the echoes, the thin wailing  our ears too delicate  sometimes we swim in infinite waters,  reach out and hope for life above us

we, so small, the deep the blue the humpback  so large, a shadow our smallness

crushed under the fathoms-weight smaller and smaller we miss the music we never hear, never hold not alive anymore 

we would die  before we hear

we will never know each other

your hands are cold as mine are we lie in shivering together

frost tickles my sides like your bitten hair

you turn to the water then I watch you still

either warmth or death has taken you 

and I never knew you to tell one from the other

crows stare back

city birds sitting on a powerline keeping on singing to the end of time watching from above as you and i go by on cold streets below—

when times come to an end

through the blue of car windows comes the blur of silver trees glimmer leaves a bending yellow-flowered bush sighing as it goes 

endless ending on the highway but in this clear instance there is the arrow swallow there are the sinking lily pads there are mountains with impossible snow there is no end

My sister had her last baby today. She waited the whole nine months to find out the gender, much to my mother’s dismay. I bought her baby clothes that were grays and blues and greens, not caring about who it would be. Love can always be felt for others, even at nine months away.

As a half-assed writer, I have to think about my sister when she had my niece 8 years ago. She was living in our parents house and dealing with the awful reality of a man that wasn’t ready to be a father, and parents that still weren’t ready to be parents. I remember being 13 and so afraid for her, going to the library at lunch and reading up on affordable housing and food stamps and child birth. I wrote her thousands of notes with words of encouragement before she went to work everyday. It was always like that between she and I, taking care of each other in our own ways.

Our mother was checked out back then, so my sister made it her own job. She taught me how to tie my shoes and make myself breakfast. She showed me how style my hair and my favorite Maroon 5 songs. She was rebellious and I wanted to be her so badly. The “I love you’s” came easy. We were each other’s first example of unconditional love.

I’m 22 now and she’s 30. We’ve grown up in separate ways and things aren’t as black and white as they used to be. She’s got her own little family and a peace about her that’s unfamiliar. I’m just starting to figure out my own worth and place in this universe. A few months back, she told me that she knew she wanted to be a mom when I was born. She said that I always told her that she was special and that she was beautiful, and even on the bad days, she kept going for me and our other siblings. I’d never known that until now.

My sister had her last baby today. I feel complete in knowing that I was her first.

to Alyssa, the best mom I’ve known // hnl 2020

As August slips away

into changing leaves and coffee stains

life is different as the sun sets earlier

each and every day

you and I have changed like seasons

but there’s still a home

in your clear eyes

and my rusting Chevy

thank you for always finding me

every time I wanted you to

15, 18, 22 // hnl 2020

Oh, it never mattered to me anyway

don’t cry me a river

just to wash me down the drain

notthing mattered, nothing earned or gained

everything to lose on a hot summer day

-

maybe it’s time to let go

of what wasn’t meant to stay

girl on fire, whispers the universe

you’re gonna light up rooms with your smile

everything mattered,

every blood stain

every masarca trail down your face

there’s no better place, I’d like to imagine

spit out the bitter taste

at least it happened

poetry on the front porch step // hnl 2020