Tattoo Me Beautiful

I let a stranger paint my heart
with swallows and roses.
He threaded the needle so delicately,
but his gentle touch
could not stop my crimson blood's flow.
It oozed out of the new wounds
tainting the shades of blue and green
in the wings of the bird,
outstretched and free.

I made my heart beautiful again,
like was once upon a time.
It's not quite fixed,
and I don't think it ever will be.
But the cracks and battle wounds
are gone now.
I don't wear my sorrow so sadly anymore,
I hid those memories with images
that let me forget.

At least
on the outside
I don't look
so
b r o k e n. 

-2010

Wings of a Butterfly

Love is so brief.
Only a slice of time that comes and goes with the flutter of a butterfly. Then you've tasted it. The sweet taste that melted on your tongue once that is now only to be replaced with bitterness, jealousy, insecurity.
You end up crushing the wings of a butterfly in the palm of your sweaty and desperate fist. You held on too tight, wanting that moment to be eternal.
It becomes a cry in an empty alley that makes you long for that moment again, that binding kiss and those whispered words of 'I love you'.

Doll

You become vulnerable and porcelain, and they hold you between their fingers. And my God you are hoping they are holding you tight; because at any moment you might fall and smash into a million little pieces. They might slip up for a second, or maybe they cast you away without a single care. Either way, you end up hurting.
You find your alone; putting yourself together and giving them the benefit of the doubt. You pretend that they lost their grip for a moment. That they didn’t mean to break you. It was just a senseless mistake.
Although; once they let you fall it’s never quite the same. The cracks are constant reminders of the pain that they put you through and probably will continue to.
But you still make excuses for them because all you ever wanted was somebody to hold your hand.

You want to be the first one to walk away; but you just don’t know when to turn your back.

Sarah & Michael

Your hair’s shorter /  It, it suits you. / Oh I don’t really...I tagged along with Beth, she knows him / I didn’t expect you to be here... /

Do you remember the honeysuckle tree we carved our names in; Sarah and Michael forever? I scratched it out for you. I changed it to Sarah loves Michael forever.  / Yeah, I know... / I just didn’t think you would fall out of love with me. /

I’m okay. / At least that’s what I tell everyone. I must of said it 43 times today, well 44 now. / I can't lie to you though, I never could. Your my weakness... / I'm never okay anymore.

You gave me an Orchid on our first date and said it meant rare beauty, and it reminded you of me. / I would of given you an Oleander, you know. Because you’re poisonous, and your killing me.

Look, I'm sorry...just...Why her? I thought we were special, I thought it was you and me. Now it’s you and her. How can you tell me that when your with her?  Huh? I can’t talk to anyone, I can’t ever talk to anyone. I want to talk to you though, I want to tell you all my stories from when I went to Africa and played with baby lion cubs, and I want to tell you that I got an A in maths. I want to ask you how you are, and if you won your soccer finals. It’s been too long...

You better get back to her. / I’m okay, aren’t I? I can still smile.

2010 Monologue

Englantine

Under past lovers carvings,
I scratch a poem for the lonely:

'Lovebirds kiss in a honeysuckle tree,
But my wings are broken,
I'm left stranded in the branches
Of a white oleander.'

 -2010 

Stranger To Love

Is it a silver locket that I will wear around my neck,
Or writing his name on a piece of paper next to mine?
Will I get butterflies at the sound of his name,
And will it feel something like magic?


They say when your in love you know.
But no, I don't.
He is a stranger to me.

-2010

seasons.

autumn.

the leaves fell and crumbled beneath our toes like crisps and paper planes.
and you kissed me.

i pretended i couldn't see you from my bedroom window, but i really could.


winter.

the winter air was beautiful.
i made snow angels naked and felt my skin turn blue.

you wore a green beanie and black gloves.
i didn't like those gloves because it meant i couldn't hold your hand and feel your warmth.

we sold our innocence to one and other.


spring.

the birds sang oprah outside my window,
they sat on the tree you would climb to sneak into my room.

the roses blossomed and glowed of youth.
i picked every petal off the prettiest one.
"he loves me, he loves me not..."


summer.

the sun kissed your nose with freckles.
i counted them while you slept. 19.
odd numbers were bad luck.

autumn.

sold.

we made love under the full moon the night before you left.
i waved goodbye.

two old people moved in next door and they smiled and held hands sometimes. 

-2010

My friend Jarrod Van Der Veen made this for me, as he loved that quote from my short story Heart of Glass.

I love it!