Nothing Stays Broken Forever

If you are new to this journal please add me as a friend, RSS me, bookmark it, whatever. Comment and leave critique please, no one ever tells me what they think about my poetry and its one of the most important things in the world to me. If you think it sucks please just say so, nicely. I value honesty, just not the mean kind.

Since some members of my family might read this I want to go ahead and warn those who are interested in reading my poetry by saying that it is poetry. That should be enough of an explanation right there but I will elaborate by saying it will be TMI for some people, but a lot of it is storytelling. Some, if not most, of it is total and complete fiction, but I have been told that with the way I write and the way I have led my life it can be difficult to see the difference between fact and fiction. I have no regrets and I have no desire to cover up anything in my life. I refuse to censor myself so other people can feel more comfortable. I'm a grown adult woman and I have been through a lot of things in my life including grown adult woman situations and I experience (quite an array of) grown adult woman feelings, which I do not apologize for. Some reading is definitely inappropriate for anyone under 18.

Also I am starting a photo project on flickr for my poetry. A lot of my photography is inspired by poetry and a lot of my poetry is inspired by photography. http://www.flickr.com/photos/beautiflaw/sets/72157615945634966/ it is still a baby and I haven't done much with it yet but its a work in progress. It will be featured in the book I am doing.

Comments are good. Constructive criticism is good. Leave me something, say anything. If you don't like it PLEASE say so, if you do then PRETTY PLEASE say so. Begging is beneath me but I would really like to have some feedback so I can improve.

I don't mask my feelings or my body. Censorship is more sinful than any nakedness.

This blog post on my normal blogger is more honest and open than my poetry ever has been, and may ever will be. Usually the point of poetry is to be a little vague, so I can forgive myself, even though I have never quite mastered vagueness in or outside of the poetic arts. I say what I think, for better or worse, and this is yet another example of that.

http://beautiflaw.blogspot.com/2009/09/this-is-age-of-honesty.html

Happy Birthday

She said she was going to the nursery
So she headed for a hill, turned her car
Next to a curb lined with rounded grey
Stones and crosses, and marble angels
That never get shiny when it rains.

She said she was going to the nursery
So she dressed all in black, her best
Dark dress, best heels, pantyhose, hat.
She wore sunglasses as the sky began
To turn dusky purple, lilies in her arms.

She said she was going to the nursery
So she packed some tissues in her purse.
Even though she was in her best dress
She knelt next to the two smallest stones
On the whole hill, and sang 'happy birthday'.

Consolation Pride

It creeps up on me, that feeling. It happens every time.
Every time we get a little further away from the things
We used to know, the comfort of warm arms in the night.
It creeps up on me, and I remember why I'm really here,
I forget that I never had those butterflies in the stomach
That everyone loves to tell me about, and that I'm only
Faking it until I make it. I remember it now. I remember
That you were my special silver medal, my consolation
Prize, my rebound. I forgot, but I remembered. It's okay
Because we're just using each other, and I need to remind
Myself that it isn't my heart that's broken right now... it's
Just wounded pride. You have to care to hurt. I don't.
I keep telling myself I don't. But tears keep falling.

ATM

We used each other,
Made up false names,
Exchanged no numbers,
And played no games.
In the morning I left you,
You forgot about me.
A few drinks and a condom,
Transaction complete.

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Deflowered

Gravel tapping on the window woke me, a light sleeper.
Creeping down I knew who waited at the door.
We would never get caught, no one would ever suspect.
Alone in the dark under the covers, muffled laughter.
Not knowing, new to love, new to life, new tingling caresses
That seamlessly became a sharp pain, and a quickened breath.

You lied to me almost as many times as I lied to you,
And I never let you know the things you took from me.
I never told you my secrets. In my little white virgin bed,
In your best friend's mother's car, at home while everyone else
Was at school, on the lawn at 2:00 AM. You used my body,
You used my heart, and then threw me away with the shiny
Foil wrappers. I died a little, and I was so damn young...
That never seemed to bother you at all.

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Secrets

Hey you, buy me another drink.
It's getting to be about that time.
The dance floor is winding down,
The last song, last call, the last glass of wine.
Buy me a shot, and drink one too,
Gulp it down, and cheers to you,
And take me back to wherever you're from.
I'll let you believe I'm easy and dumb,
Then I won't say a word,
I won't have to. Just don't make it hurt

And I'll let you be another one of my secrets.
There's more than one of them.
I've got secrets, a bunch of little sins,
So many secrets, a lot of secrets.

When I write your name on my list will I spell it right?
Because I'm sure you're not using your real name tonight.
I've been doing this for such a long time
That it's easy for me to see such a lie,
But I'll pretend that I believe you
It's okay, because I've been lying too.
And it's okay if you stumble, or try to put the key in upside down,
I won't tell anyone, there won't be anything to tell anyone about.
Just give me a moment in the bathroom alone
To text my friend on my cellular phone,
Tell her to meet me in about an hour.
That gives me enough time for you, then a quick shower.

And I'll let you become another secret, so secret
And I don't know you well, a sorry secret, deep secret
One I can't tell. Dear secret, there's no reason to feel ashamed
For all those strange feelings that don't have a name.
Don't worry secret, my little blue-eyed secret.

I see you've fallen asleep, so quickly to the end.
Dreaming of another girl that broke your heart over the weekend.
But we two can rebound and forget
And leave nothing to regret
In the elevator after
Slipping out from under
Your arm and back in my dress.
The hotel clerk can see my hair's a mess.
I'll tell my friend we only kissed
As she's driving me back home,
And then I'll be alone.

Now you're my secret, a dirty secret,
Full of mischief I am. So many little secrets
To keep for all time, and they're all mine,
All these secrets... Don't want you to find out my secrets.

The Siren And The Sailor

My heart is cloven in two today, more broken than usual, more than ever.
I used to believe that I was the distant siren, luring you ever closer.
You; the sailor on your grand ship, listening with false hopes
To my song, my call to rocky shores, to death, to infinity.

My heart lies at the bottom of the deepest sea, in two distinct pieces.
I used to think I was the liar. I used to think I had you fooled.
Until I felt guilty at last, for my treachery and let you in, you saw my soul.
From then on I held you dearly, so closely, so high, and in such esteem.

All along you must have known... and you dragged me out
Far, far away from what I knew. Foolishly I trusted you, and was left stranded
On a beach, far from home, far from love, far from life. Alone.
You told me to wait, you would return. Patient, I never questioned you.

Now here am I, drifting slowly down in the sea, hitting the sandy bottom.
Shells scattered about, my heart lies next to me and makes no sound.
I can look upward and barely see your boat and anchor on the shore.
You take another siren's hand and lead her to the beach.

You kiss her goodbye the way you kissed me, slowly and sweetly. So clever.
A tear falls from her lovely eyes, she promises to wait, just as I did.
And my sailor, tricky one, I see your face as you set sail again.
My lips form your name as my heart stops beating under the waves.

Just a Song

I can't stop listening to "Just Like Heaven"
And I can't stop crying, because I remember
How that feels... feels so good to feel. To feel
Lighter than air and heavier than a hundred bricks
At the same time. In glorious moments of
Hunger and chest bursting happiness. I used to
Feel so sad and happy at the same time, sad to
Realize how soon it would all end. I knew it could
Not ever. Never. Last. And I feel your breath on me
From so many thousands of inches of miles and
Hours and days and months. But I know that it can't last.
You say you are coming home soon, but soon is forever
Away. Soon is too long. Time doesn't mean the
Same thing it used to. A week is a long, long day.
A month is a parade of nightmare creatures walking
In a dark street, keeping me awake. My heart in a cage.
My love behind a wall. My hope drowned in an ocean
Of fear and regret... guilty for not being everything
I promised... I swore, and I know it can't last. I know
You are coming home, and I hear the song and I
Can finally remember and I can finally feel, a little.
And you say you're coming home. Soon. And I know,
I hate it, but I know hat it can't. Not ever. Never. Last.

Six months

How?
It has been so long since I have touched your face.
So long since I smelled your smell. Since you woke
Me, ready, always ready, and sleepily sighing softly,
Gently, "Good morning, my Love." Your Love, you
Say it every day over too many disconnections and
Crackling long distance fuzz. Hollow is my heart, so
The words bounce around and echo within... I have
Not kissed you in six months. You have not brushed
Away my tears in six months. I have not watched you
Sleep in six months. You have been so absent from
My life... for six months. You should be here to fill the
Frames in photographs, to eat at our table, to occupy
My extra time, to annoy me, to hold me, to laugh.
It has been six months since we held each other,
Naked, crying a little. Six months since we said goodbye.

It has been six months, six whole months, since I felt a thing.

Intensive Care Unit

My heart, or what is left of it, is wrapped in gauze and plaster.
It broke when you left, and now it doesn't work. My blood takes
Forever to get where it ought to go, and now I feel empty, like
A whiskey barrel after a pity party. Honestly, I come and tell you
Now that I am alone, I never knew how badly the smallest things
Could hurt. You are so far gone that you can't even write on the
Cast I made for my heart. And it is so far from recovery... only you
Can save it. Return, and we can nurse it back to health together.

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I am such a cliche little emo band song writer. I know. But I miss my Steve.

Accidentally In Japan

Together we're in the car,
We're running late a lot lately,
Thirty minutes behind schedule.
His parents are on their way,
Mine aren't far behind them.
The stress is killing me because
I've still got so much left to do,
And the families arrival marks
The departure of my sweetest love.

So I turned to him smiling and said,
"Why don't we tell them that we
Went to Japan? I'd swim the oceans
To get away from that."
And he laughed and replied,
"Yes, we accidentally took a wrong
Turn and ended up on the other
Side of the world. We accidentally
Went to Japan."

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I wrote this right before Stephen went on deployment. We actually did have this conversation.

I'm Going Insane

If I had to choose between a bottle of water and a shot of whiskey
I would choose the shot tonight, and tomorrow too.
There's a no vacancy sign on my forehead and I've been
Pushed into a freezing swimming pool and
Everyone knows I can't swim.

Errands and important things are shoved out into space.
I just want to forget it all and drink and smoke and sleep
Until you get here and I can brush my teeth and
Wash away the smeared eyeliner and mascara
Left sitting on my cheeks for so long after that good lonesome cry.

My shadow is getting smaller and the volume on my life turned up.
Getting harder now to ignore the obvious signs that I'm
Turning into that awfully lazy person that I hate.
My past is taking over my future again, because I'm scared to
Take control for the last time, and my memories are winning.

Lonely Love

The sweater you gave to me to repair is used as my pajamas now
Returning it to you is not something I like to think about
Even though the scent of you lingers no more in its soft weave
The bear you gave smells like me now because it sleeps
Where you ought to be, but tonight I cannot be comforted
Because right now I'm missing the smile in your eyes
And the warmth of your hands on my legs, and the
Way it felt when I fell asleep on your chest
Listening to your breathing was a lullaby for me
The monsters of my past did not haunt my dreams for once
I had no dreams that night, because I was living one
All I want to do is rake my nails across your back
So I can feel your gasping breath on my neck
And then let you hold me tight until morning
But this time without the exhausting goodbye

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I wrote this like, a week or two before me and Stephen got married.

I may edit it and add punctuation, but I think not having punctuation makes more sense in a way... I don't know... I feel like if I add punctuation sometimes its giving in to the "English Teacher" way of writing, and not adding it is more... artistic... but I don't want people to read my poetry and go, "Gah this girl is stupid, she doesn't know what periods are..."

Suddenly

She felt a sickly nostalgic feeling. Longing but with a bitter distaste.
As memories flashed behind her eyes, far enough behind
So she couldn't see completely, but in the periphery of her mind's
Eye she saw the shadows of what once was. Nausea overcame
Her whenever she had this feeling, these memories.
They took her subconscious being, even her sub-dermal self.
The part of her she barely kept control over. The parts her
Skin held together. The anguished soul beneath the quickly
Receding mask of poise and self control.

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Um. I actually wrote this while on a check lane at Target. It was a slow day. I actually wrote a few of my poems while I was supposed to be working at Target. I wrote a bunch at Outback on the paper we used to write orders on. Odd things inspire me.

Working It

Ready, set, pose, ready, set, smile
Lightening quick flashes to
Catch all these feelings
I've the got caterpillar eyes
And lots of other gunk all over
They say it makes me beautiful
I've never felt so disgusting

I am so stiff I cannot breathe
Holding in all my flaws, imperfections
Sucking, poking, arching, reaching
I'm so hungry but I've got hours
Left until the light is gone

First off, this is an old ass poem from a LOOOONG time ago that I found in a notebook today. I hadn't put it on my computer and even though it is actually about Ryan, I think it deserves to see the light of day even though he and I no longer have feelings for each other. We are just friends now and I'm happily married to Stephen, so I just wanted to place that disclaimer here before anyone reads this and goes, "Wtf?"

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He Said He Was Sorry

Fred came to my house and knocked on my door today.
He gave me a bouquet of four-leaf clovers,
A kiss on the cheek, and the sweetest apology.
And angry as I tried to be, I could not help but smile.
I embraced him when his words turned purple, and
Forgave every transgression. He must have known.
I tumbled forward, it must be male trickery...
But my toothache is subsiding, at last.
I'm going to send my cocktail dress to the cleaners anyhow.
I don't care what you say. Though you say it so loud.
My heart doesn't flutter like this over just anyone.
My dear Fred, my dearest, most dear, dear, dear Fred...
Who knows my favorite flower is a weed,
My every weakness, and the shortest path to the depths of my heart.

Powerless

When when I dream do I dream
Of broken jaw and busted teeth?
Jagged, sharp, loose, and bloody.
The haze fills my vision blurry.

I wake from my nightmare unable to speak,
And run to the mirror to check my teeth,
Afraid they might be completely gone...
Among the many things I've lost.

Darkened room. I go back to bed,
My mouth intact but still I dread
That I'll look at my reflection someday
And see that my teeth have gone away.

Cold

You're so cold it burns me up
Keeps me warm when you aren't here
My pain is like my little blanket tent
Shielding me like an angry shell
From running back, keeping me out
Keeping me lonely, I can't go
Back to you, but I won't go
Looking for anyone else.

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I'm a really screwed up person.

I knooooooooow. Its not even April anymore and I'm just now posting my NaPoWriMo poems. I had written them on paper as usual and didn't bother to put them on my computer until today. So I'm a lazy ass. Maybe I'll write a poem about it.

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Disappointed

Smoothly transitioning from anger to joy
Then back again as a curtain falls back
And I lie naked under a lonely mist
Falling on me softly as I accept disappointment
And you are careless with my heart as well as my body
Then when I snap out of my trance because
Someone rude began knocking on the window
I realize I have not bee thinking of you
I've been planning my days, my nights, without you
So I almost feel guilty, lying here, naked
But you aren't even here, and the mist descends

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P.S. No one saw me laying around nakie and knocked on the window. I promise. Haha. Also I need to edit this because right now I am pretty sure this poem is crap... but not today. Too lazy. Also I'm not feeling poetic today and if I tried editing it now it would end up worse than it was to begin with.

Cheap Red Wine

I'm drunk.
I like being drunk.
Life doesn't hurt when I'm drunk.
My legs don't hurt when I'm drunk.
Cramps don't hurt when I'm drunk.
Love, love drunken drunkeness.
Fun, fun, drunk. Happy. Drunk.
Cheap red wine. Druuuuuunk.
Drunk.



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The laziest poem of all time. Ever.

Anchor

The reason I realized my mistake was the anchor necklace.
I absentmindedly clasped it around my neck and never gave
It any thought until I saw the crystals shining in the mirror.
Then I remembered what it this symbol represents to me.
It is close to my heart, like my Love, an anchor is strong and
Holds ships in place, in spite of the angry waves and rain.
You are my anchor, and this symbol gives me hope, and
Reminds me to be strong the way you are strong for me.
For now winds may howl around us, but love is the anchor,
We will not blow out to sea to get lost in the fickle tides.