awsmpossum's blog

I liked it more
When we were kissing
And I was crying.
My drippy faucet eyes
Leaking wet secrets
About your suction-cup-lips
And bittersweet vowels.
But now she is tracing your syllables with hers
And I'm left longing
Left craving something
Anything
To turn those faucets back on
Because I like it more
When I'm kissing
And crying.

Dear _________,
I'm writing to you because you're stoned and I'm sad and I can't seem to say this to real you. Say this to you with your walls and your high and your too-smooth skin and the way you gasp and call to god and
I want you to know I still love you. I want you to know that looking into your eyes makes me want to cry or kiss you or both. I want you to know that I'd probably do anything for you. Because I am weak. Because I don't have any walls. Because I made a mistake when I held you and now not holding you hurts. You hurt me. I let you hurt me. I beg you to hurt me. Please baby, hurt me. Reach your hands inside all those holes from other lovers and take my heart. Break my heart. Get high and give me a call. Tell me you want me like you don't in reality. C'mon baby, I've been bad. Hurt. me. again.

Yours.

This tipsy morning hunger is why I don't drink, why I don't need to. I've gotten especially good at getting high off of feeling empty inside. Shaky legs and floating head carry me across the threshold of my house, up the stairs and into the safety of my room after the dizzy, vacant-bellied bike ride that brought me through small-town patriotism. Now the game is about staying hollow.

Baby, I need you to climb inside me; this empty wanting girl is choosing you to fill her up. Make my head spin in multiple directions, my back sprout wings as it arches so that I can fly into the endless vertiginous void, calling out to you and to any gods I see along the way.

I'm getting off on reeling inspiration and your lips seems to be just everywhere. Kiss away this lonely daze and push me towards divine intervention where those nonexistant omnipresent deities can replace you in my inflation. Just push a little further and I won't need you anymore.

Shut up Baby, it's too late to explain that your alcohol addiction may have been our end.
I always thought that giving up on someone because they cheated was stupid, was pointless. But you've been cheating on me with Captain Morgan, Jack Daniels, Smirnoff, anything you can get your hands on and I'm sick of being second best to your addiction. I like you dry; when you can explain your decisions, when kissing you doesn't feel like manipulation. But I miss your skin; the way it felt against my fingertips, your fingertips against my skin. Shivers take the escalator down my spine at the very mention of your name, so when I say I feel betrayed, I think I have a point. You told those men our secrets after unscrewing their tops, pouring out as they poured in. So while you try to fill yourself up, I'm left empty, wishing that I drank.

i. When we were lying in bed, you asked if I'd noticed you were thinner; I liked you more before.

ii. Therapy is slowly becoming a checklist for uncomfortable conversations with my parents.

iii. I confess: it hurt me to see your name featured and mine not.

iv. This loneliness tastes a lot like regret.

v. She still doesn't understand that she's being used, that I'm using her.

vi. I used to be much nicer.

Shut up I lied
When I told you
How we could merge seamlessly
And then seperate
Without holes or stray threads
Betraying emotion.

It would mean something
If I could watch your back arch against my hand
It would mean something
If I could taste your salty lips with my tongue
It would mean something
to me
And because I lied
I might get to sew us together
But I'll be the one
Nursing my wounds
When you pull the stitches
Apart.

Writing
Reading your words
Your words so like mine
I think maybe
Baby
We can fall for anyone.

Kiss me
Boozed up tipped over
Tip me over into your arms
And maybe
Baby
I could fall for you.

I read your words
And already
I love you more
Than the girl with the soft tan skin.

You are open
Like your crayon-colored envelope
And you signed your note with love.

I want to write you letters
And let you fill my lawn
With your thoughts,
Picnicking on the perfect green grass
And shedding insecurities
Like too many warm blankets.

I too am scared
I'm tricking myself.

Love,
Kate

Fingers
Dancing in strange circles
On keyboard letters
With hidden meanings
Making words that I can't understand.
I'm using far too many
To say something so simple,
Something I shouldn't be thinking,
Be saying.
You don't make it easy
G.

The scratches down
The side of my face
Whisper sighs
Of breakdowns
In public places
And friends
Who think that
By ignoring it
They're helping
And parents who
Assume that
This is the first time
That it won't
Happen again.

Everyone who came in was you
Until you were you
And there you were.

Let me be honest:
While I was stalling
In that corner
I wanted to kiss you
Wanted to pin you, hold you
Against that table you liked
And let my mouth learn yours
Let my hands feel more than just
The air around your skin.
But I didn’t.
I wasn’t sure how you’d react.
So I walked you to your car
Holding your hand in my head
My mind wrapped around your shoulders.

Weaving word webs
through overgrown fields:

Suburbia used to be a farm.

I found the evidence
in a barbed wire fence
out under those luscious green grasses

Your wallpaper was blue and green

I snuck in through the window
A place no one dares to go
The only color was in the kitchen
Now a piece is in my pocket.

Speed Limit 25

Under the plank of wood
Out by my neighborhood
Stolen treasure lurks

You said:
Give it some legs
before you push it
down the stairs.
But I thought of those limbs
and the tangle they'd become
in the falling, twisting, snapping
chaos. And I thought maybe
it would be better off
with wings.

Faded flowers
In once-vibrant colors
linger persistantly
on my otherwise pale shoulders.
The shower water
flowed grey/indigo
as I scrubbed and coured
at those tinted memories,
not wanting my distraction
to be so blatant, so obvious.

This is the also for my AP English final project. Feedback is seriously appreciated! THANKS!