Tuesday, September 17, 2013

an interrogation

do you solemnly swear to look me in the eye
and tell me everything i already know?

when you picture your next year, is it spent under
fluorescent lights or our tree on the hill?

do you ever think of my hair clogging your drain
and my coffee cup in your kitchen sink,
two signs i've been staying over more than i'm supposed to?

i almost left a bobby pin in your car as a reminder:
i was here with you. that isn't a question,
but i don't want to be forgotten.

when you think of home do you picture the coast
or a four bedroom house in between mud and soy?

will the way i take more than my fair share of the bed
stay a secret too?

when i stand in the doorway, is it more like the
light from the moon or from a far off star?
do you still ponder what a soul mate is?


i wouldn't say i'm back because i don't make promises i can't keep, but i missed this process. i'll keep trying. x m

Monday, July 1, 2013


your taste (and the words i
wrote for you in endless loops
thick and salty like your skin
on mine) have left my mouth
and like a deer in the wintertime
i am left looking toward the
sunrise for you, bewildered

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

The Grammar of Sleep

you are a woman
who falls asleep inside parentheses
          whispers your secrets to the quilts
          and whoever is sitting in
          the dark corners of your ceiling.

you are a woman
who dreams in commas
and semi-colons,
          in fits and starts,
          choked by reality when you wake 
          to stare at the wall.

you are a woman
who sleeps like an apostrophe
          around pillows because
          hearts are not to be possessed
          no matter how hard you
          try to find a lullaby.

Saturday, June 22, 2013

What I Wrote When

I Was Sad
I see the spot where I could slip under,
Green and white, dancing on wet sand 
Like a mermaid who lost her tail,
Full of water like a bloated fish.
It could be a perfect place to hide
From your questioning kisses,
So dark and cold.
It is a good little spot not too far out --
I guess I won't,
On a day like this with the sun 
So bright and warm.

I Was Very Angry
Sitting front row while you sleep
Off an early night that hurts too much,
The ocean is spitting on me.
Little slaps in the face, a bit gentler 
Than every time you hide the way 
You love someone else
With words while I lie next to you,
Your sweat still beaded on my chest.
I dreamt of a lake that I thought
I might yet swim with you.
I am being carried away;
I could blame it on this wind
But you should know
I know your secrets.

I Couldn't Speak
When I went to find beached whales
And leather women in sagging chairs,
I was making a long list in my head of everyone
I would rather be spending this day with.
I must have looked crazy,
Laughing out loud, at the thought
Of adding Adolph.
Then I realize:
I have something to say to him; 
I know why I am mad at Hitler.
But you? I have no words for you.

I Laid Next To You In Silence
The human instinct to hold hands is so strong that even when you push me off a cliff, it is you I reach for to pull me back.

We Were Whispering
Your eyes are a bit 
Like this sea,
Less blue but certainly 
As clear as 
You are trying
To be with me
About words and people,
About water and plane tickets.
I comb through foggy memories
With sharp shells in a sorry
Search for secrets
I didn't want to know. 
Calling it even isn't erasing
What we did to each other
Under the covers
Of nights when we felt alone,
But the lines on your face
And your cracked hands
On my hips, full and red,
Are undeniable.

We Swam
Let the sun burn me
For another hour
While we pretend to be
Local fishes in our little home.
Let the salt coat my throat
When I am tossed under
Because I forget about the waves
Every time I see you laugh.


I wrote this a little over a month ago. Always curious when certain things come full circle, or when things you write seem to be advice to your future self. xx M

Thursday, June 20, 2013

A Little House

standing outside the place you first
heard his name, you realize 
he means every word of everything 
you considered a lie. blaming it all on 
a game of numbers, like how long 
we've been on this earth in relation to 
the way it feels lying next to 
each other in unfamiliar rooms. lacing 
his fingers between yours, you know 
you'd marry him but he's putting 
more miles between you in his mind 
because one thousand seems as far 
as a millennium and even though you 
already lived through one of those, 
he doesn't think you would make it 
through this one. searching for the
hallway before giving up and crawling 
back into bed because at least if you stay 
there will be eggs for breakfast and songs
at midnight. falling for him again 
so fast you forget your heart was already 
buried deep inside the concrete 
foundation of his apartment outside 
the city and no amount of explosives or 
firework kisses will set you free.

I took a break full of really wonderful and really shitty events and people and feelings. Maybe I'll be back more regularly now.