Permanent Marker (Slam Poetry)


There are so many ways

your words make it into my blood.


1. Melting into my skin

from absentminded pen marks.

I would take the pen away

but then I would be out of

these little autographs I want to keep.


2. Sometimes intended pen marks.

When I look at them

I don’t think I can tell them apart

from the accidents.

They come from

a laughing game of hide-and-seek

where you always find my hand

and I roll my eyes

as you leave yet another

little ink scar.


3. Something you need to

remind yourself of.




I am a human pile

of things you might forget.

I am not always so good at it

but for some reason

you keep dropping more items in the basket.


4. When I catch myself talking like you.

These little

words a few people laugh at

are stuck in my head,

tell me

I’ve spent too much

too little time here.


5. Pieces of paper you slip under my door

that remind me

how well you speak my language.

Sometimes I think

I met you just for the words.


6. The last thing you say

before you fall asleep.

In daylight I’m not sure why

it’s in some corner of my brain

labeled more important.

I didn’t think sleep did much for my memory

before I started waking up with you.


7. When your fingers drag

along my arm

or my face

or my sides.

The lightest touch

leaves an indent

I’m never sure I can erase

even if I wanted to.


8. Sometimes we speak

in permanent marker.

Say things we can’t take back.

We write our way into each other’s hearts

with every breath we take.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 8/25/17

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