#love #writing

Nosebleed (day 101)

I fall a thousand times before morning,

spitting out handscribbled love notes,

Muse uses my tongue as loose scratch paper

and spells out galaxies I wish I could speak the languages of

but only when there’s no one around.

 

I’ve learned to fear love more than a chainsaw

because love can cut me in more pieces.

So I buy a chainsaw from his steel-tipped sentences

I don’t know the difference between them and

the love notes that fall off my tongue.

 

Falling apart’s better than a mistaken pen taking over

my sandpaper earthquake throat

I’ve learned to fear love more than your fingers

because even when they’re not wrapped around my hand or my face or my neck

I always end up with a nosebleed.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 11/2/16

Nosebleed

Prettier Ways (day 96)

In a world like this

it’s a feat to say

things that haven’t been said.

So instead we’ll try to say

things that have been said

in different, prettier ways.

 

We build apologies

like marble staircases,

weave love

like fishing nets,

I’ll give you more

as long as you don’t mind

 

In a world like this

it’s a feat to climb

mountains that haven’t been touched.

So instead we’ll try to

climb the old mountains

and plant roses at the peaks

so we fall in love whenever we can.

 

We glint our heartbeats

off rocking chairs

and dusty old hardwood floors

so we can mix antique with

the love that’s too new to fix

 

In a world like this

it’s a feat to create

colors that haven’t been seen

So instead we’ll try to

combine everything we know

and make a new kaleidoscope

so we don’t have to call this love

something that already exists.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 10/30/16

Weave

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Safe Haven

Folder: 
2016

He asked me if I'd write for him

and after moments I said

Most of my thoughts don't even

make it out of my head

 

But give me three nickels,

comfort and a gorgeous view

Give me a safe haven and

I'll pull out something for you

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 7/2/16

Catharsis

Folder: 
2016

I push rhythms out of this heart

and find melodies within these keys

because he can sit me down and shut me up

and tell me ten things I don’t already know.

What about you?

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 4/4/16

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