Puke Poetry

Heart like a hand grenade, fully-automatic weapon for a mind.

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

pretend

we like to pretend like
there's no tomorrow
no work or school to trudge to
no bus to catch
no exams to bomb
like no one's coming early in the morning
we like to pretend until neither of us can breathe
until we're wheezing
compliments of
a mutual addiction to nicotine
until we can't see
until the only option left is sleep
we like to pretend
like there's no twin cities
no twelve hour bus ride
no fashion design
looming over and sliding in between
like there's no static
from outside sources
no advice or admonitions
no road blocks to run into
no open graves to fall into
until we can't breathe
utnil all we can do
is hold onto our respective skins
and pray for the sun to stay down
and you
kissed me like you were starving
like you'd never breathed until
that second
and you did it like i was made of glass
but i can be steel for you
and all we can do is
kick around the
what ifs
like they were
the chunks of ice and snow
melted away last week
when the rain came
and we all laughed and danced
but we just like
to pretend.

can't won't stop screaming

(this is "puke poetry" at it's most pure - it came from a minor mental breakdown. i'm going to scan the original and post it later.)

i saw her shrinking back like the world was throwing sticks and stones and bricks and knives - like it was looking for a bar fight, wielding a broken beer bottle with menacing and tempting edges - i saw the walls sliding down like concrete rapids fed by a year of headaches and bruised necks and egos - like the scars won't show and burn through like the mother of god herself screaming her existence to a forgetful and vengeful world - like a ten alarm fire that hasn't eaten for months looking for hearts to consume and digest and spit back out - how else will we feed when we can't breathe or see through the trees standing like an army at our feet - battle cries and smoldering white flags, the rage of freedom in every last eye - lungs bursting throats bleeding never conceeding always proceeding - because left, left, left, right and then we left - we inhaled the sunrise like a cigarette and what we lost we'll never find because the world's out for blood and her - another notch on the club and black ink tear under the eye - i am she is we are all battle scars - open wounds - reminders - we are every nightmare every sleep walk every step in front of a moving train, off a roof, out a window - we are every pill, every needle, every bullet - we are immortal in our potential to destroy and create, to obliterate and to change and we'll never settle for decimation - the ring is right but the numbers are fucked and disappointing and numbing and frustration embodied and i need you to see the beating beating drum of this and these hearts - i need to feel the head rush and the subsequent crash back to earth because the sahara is in my mouth far too often and you'll never taste it like you can the copper fear on the tip of your tongue since fear tastes just like currency and blood - it's on our hands and there's no one coming to save us or to rectify the situation or to dole out our appologies or publish our obituaries - we will not be forgotten and yet oblivion is in our small and blue prints - i still can't feel the knife at my neck - the invasion being inconsistent despite the inconvenience of ingenius - and i can't stop screaming and she can't stop bleeding and everyone can't stop cascading like they're avalances - like they're the only hope - like they're the only hearts that matter - self involvement indulgence destruction is the word of the day - three times and it's yours, three more and it's mine - i can't stop picking at the edges unraveling cannibalizing everything that i find - it's all i know how to do right - just a girl that hurts - she me we are - it's an art like sylvia dying - how many times the charm before the lock's picked - how many sucker punches before we look up first - how many broken fingers before we learn to quit slamming doors - how many times until no is yes and wrong stays wrong - i can't stop screaming until she starts smiling and she can't start smiling until they stop dying and they can't stop dying because there's nothing else left and so
i
can't
stop
screaming.

Sunday, December 10, 2006

One More Word

i'm so sick of
pretty, sexy, hot
my face and body
are on fire
and my brain's
left here to
rot

i'm so sick of
lying by
omission
instead i'd like to
just lie here
sleeping
and on a mission

i'm so sick of
you being no kind of
athlete
with the ball
spinning in your court
maybe if you'd spit it out
you'd be just short
of beat

and if i loved myself
the way you say i should
i'd have to shoot you in the head before
you could utter one more word.

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

anonymous

that pain was
eaten, cannibalized
this weakness was
beaten, brutalized
and as i stumble
swimming through rain
spitting on regret and shame
i know that
all we will recall
will be our sins
and our 20/20 hindsight
our hazy eyes and minds
swan dives from
concrete watrfalls
alternate universe
realities, identities
androgenous beauty
it's a mountain, a canyon
to be revered and
bowed down to
prostrating ourselves
before a great, deep
all encompassing nothing
it's all we see, want and breathe
it's all we'll be, stunt and bereave
it's miraculous and immaculate
and fills us with something
that will forever remain unnamed.

three heil marys

as cited in
left food, right
backhand and
long hair, buzzcut
that baby's golden
no more love
cause beauty's swollen
immortal and vindictive
in the hands of the beholder
heart and liver of the believer
it's gospel and
blasphemous
invisible, invincible
insatiable and inconsolable
and i've got
a hole in my head
the size of the word "but"
perma-open wound
to have, hold, and control
forever and ever
always and never
say it or just
kiss the bullet and say
amen.

Monday, December 04, 2006

Found

i met a bathroom today
that time forgot
and i found a part of myself
i'd never known was lost

all of me became
a five foot four inch, hundred and fifteen pound fist
i was fury as i breathed
but now i'm healthy, seeing clearly

i took words from
one heart
to my own
and it's about time

and i may want to
never get up, not eat much
and continue chain smoking
but some days i know better

like today
and today
i do know better
than you