OhHeyThereStranger

let me slip forward, off the algae- covered cliff, so i may rejoin my brothers and sisters in the waves; so i may cuddle the sunrise and mourn the dusk at dinnertime. i swallow blood by mere chance, the meal a steal to the shark nibbling away gently at my wrinkly toes; eulogizing and crying, froths embracing my face, tears a foreign delight to my tired eyes. the sea and i, are one. a mother and child, anthem to appraisal, living to death, contrast to collapse: hearts to b e a t. jaws of ocean sweetness snap shut, holding the fingers of sugar and saltwater still at my throat’s opening, bursting through my lungs in the end: remain! a

i’m writing poetry in crooked black lines down your throat and along your neck because maybe they will lead you back to me. i'm looking through attics and dark broken alleyways for something to believe in, but all i’m coming up with is dust and empty pockets of gasp-for-breath moments when i’m alone and the silence is crushing down on me. i can’t find it, can’t find the faith you’ve slung so easily around your neck next to your collection of paper thoughts and that piece of my heart. (but i could never find you, either, so maybe it’s just me.) yesterday i went to the beach when it was raining. around

You are a calculated mistake – something that I've known is wrong from the very start. And I wake up next to you every morning lately, praying that your split lips don't sink me – even though I know it's too late. You're already taking me under, because, baby – you're heavy like hurricane. Like a thousand drops of rain pounding down on my shoulder blades. You're seeping into my skin and into my bloodstream. It's only a matter of time until you spread to my heart. It's too late. I'm already drowning in you. It's too late, but god, I cannot love you. You're like the last boy I kissed – which means I should already b

When I was little, I loved sea foam.   Running forward to the shore, I would watch waves lap up at my feet and then recede, dragging the sand under my feet back with it. Sea foam would fringe the edges of these silky waves like lace, and I would grab at it, cup it in my hands. I would remember the origins of Aphrodite (born of sea foam, risen out of the ocean as the most beautiful goddess of all), and I would cradle it, hold it close to me, as if I could absorb it into my being.   By the time I brought the sea foam up to my face, it had leaked through my fingers, dissolved. Leaning down, I would cup it again and again and again, gathering fra

Forgive my weakness, woman, and my albatross-hands that roam from island to island, in search of rest. Forgive me also for my fish-school eyes, they dart from side to side in search of something that glitters - prey or the great white Kraken, or both: "I have wrecked too many ships, and seen them scream, I have held them like a lover; come, my children," it tempts, and lies softly at the bottom of the sea, singing. Forgive my oceanic absence, and the lapping and the lapses of my tongue; it writhes in my mouth like the Kraken - a treacherous, twisted creature is love, and I do, make no mistake.