24 Jan What I Forget, What I Remember
He made me feel unfinished.
As if this piece of me
I’ve yet to find
Was looming.
Jingling.
I can’t explain it,
But I’m gonna try.
Okay, set scene:
Rolling.
Scrolling.
Panning
To the next page.
Past the window.
Past a door frame.
Zoom to a windowpane on the
Far right
Far left
Far corner of my broken, beaten heart,
Since recovered,
Off the “STUFF.”
Past the stages,
Sober for 1 year and 3 months
With just enough energy to open up.
To something
To someone
Willing to listen.
To lick lips
Suck skin
Off bones
Because we comfortably had chicken together.
To make jokes
And smile a little.
That nervous smile.
That intrigued one.
That curl,
It dangles,
Slightly above your
Butterfly-lash-covered eyelids
That flutter when you close them.
And your skin,
So deeply toned,
So fleshed out,
Like a painting
Like a sculpture
With imperfections
And the resilience
To shine brighter
Even when it was convinced it couldn’t have shown.
Raising the profit of emotions at the
stock market by a percentage of 101.
And with him I feel the Ph-shht
You get when you light a match
Like ribbons and roses
Displayed lazily,
Bushes growing contagiously
Sometimes the vines and flowers
climb elegantly up the walls.
And the flames come rushing in
Connecting the fine lines
Like black pin points on a world map
That is his skin
And the places he’s been
And the things he’s felt
But he’s yet to tell me.
This odd closeness I feel
Because my persistent boldness
Might get me in trouble
But #yolo
(I went there)
Because I feel
And this is how I function
And I won’t change that for anyone.
And the music just keeps playing.
He makes me feel like a kettle on the stove,
Steamin’ out my noggin
Cause I’m always
Thinking
Running
Shrinking
Into my imagination
Of little pretty things
Cause life can be pretty.
Life can surprisingly be charmingly witty
Like him or he or she or me.
A do re mi fa so la ti do.
I can’t sing!
But he’s got me rehearsing
Like I’ve got a recital to perform at
Cause I want to say it right
Want to shine a light
On that spark I see.
Pretty much the longest poem
I may have written
Since 2013.
When the sun was bright
And the girl was free
And the innocence was quite alarming.
And the silence levitated
Like gumdrops at Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory,
The Gene Wilder one though,
—> big fan of old movies.
And I can display
The old me:
Size ten.
Long hair.
Neutral.
Natural.
Without color.
Sapling.
And then darkness came.
1, 2, 3… 4
Round up.
Recovery counts too.
Darkness shrouded
Mountains and valleys
And rivers froze over
And I did a deep cry
Where I stayed silent
For over one minute and let out a groan
Like a child.
Like heart attack.
Like agony.
Like forgetting how to be me.
Making perforated headlines
Because those would be the only thing that’d last long enough
For someone to pull and tear down
Like those Apartment for Rent flyers.
Rent the space in my heart!
Winter was a cold one.
Withered.
17.
Not the age, the year.
Contradicting the self-destruction.
Radiating.
Bold.
Empowered!
Fuck yeah!
Lightning!
He makes me feel entrusted
With stories and secrets.
And it’s as if my heart
started tattooing lines
Like forget-me-not flower petals
Blowing in the wind.
And I’m respinning old memories
Like cat’s tails
That flip hurricane pages
Through water-filled deserts
So suddenly.
So swift.
Just like the way the colors blast
Their way through his eyes.
Bouncing off walls,
Laser tagging through the mad house.
All the while
Walking causally down the street
After a chilled breakfast I’ve never had before.
Waking up at 8AM
Making it on time,
(9:30AM)
“Despite train traffic.”
Cause I don’t wake up early for ANYONE.
Passersby careening necks
All so glorified
As the waiters giggle at her green hair.
Yes, I am the green girl.
Green woman.
Green curls.
Because I’m happier that way.
And I could give a shit.
He makes me feel pink.
Like 3rd grade.
Like sometimes I doodle.
Like rocket ships
And that one time in 4th grade
When I accidentally gave
SpongeBob a dick.
(Proportions were off).
If I were ever plagued with disease,
He makes me never want to be sick.
To engage.
To enlighten.
To learn.
Earning knowledge
Like I’m back in school.
Like that time in college
When I used to drool over this professor
Who… just a few years ago,
Proposed to his partner on a stage.
The fathers of one beautiful child.
I commend them.
And I look on
And smile.
Oh, his smile.
I can stare at it for days.
Cause he’s got this smirk
That’ll make me like Mulan
As I over pour the Matchmaker’s cup of tea.
And he makes me cover my face
After he’s said the most stupidest and grossest thing.
Reminding me of my dad’s bad dad jokes.
And we’ll laugh about it
Like two middle school kids.
And he’ll make me snort
(That’s a deep laugh, sometimes it’s hard to achieve).
Blooming.
He makes me feel alive again.
Featured in Megazine Official
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