I see you walking past me in the halls.
I wonder if we could still be 'besties'.
Did I ruin it?
I just had a small crush.
It's not unnatural to like a girl.
I'll admit, I still like you.
But, friends is okay.
The more you try and avoid me, the fire burns in my stomach. I blame myself for a mistake which wasn't my fault. Not one bit.
Still, I think nothing bad of you, but I do think you're a little cray-cray.
As per myself, you are the most beautiful thing in existance.
Is being a pillow princess a good thing or not?
she is as heaven is -
like the shining end of ends itself, and i know that all of the golden roads
lead back to the parting of her lips,
so i follow them there -
with every curl and twist
of her hair,
and the warm glow of her
shimmering tanned skin, smooth as
vinyl in my hands;
i am sure of it, yes,
that it is her i wish to make it to.
senior high romance
she stopped the truck,
and her lips brushed against mine
she stopped on the street corner,
and her gloved hand hooked against my cold palm
she stopped me before class,
and her smile warmed my face
she stopped time,
but in the end,
we had to move on.
~ (shitty sapphic poem no.1)
I have a playlist about her. I think about her everyday. She doesn’t know how much she means to me, but I wish she could see. Actually no I don’t. She is straight. An ex-bi if you will. It was just a phase for her. I can’t tell her. It would ruin everything. She is my best friend and I know I am not hers. I really like her. I listen to American dream and don’t delete the kisses and it feels like they were written for the situation that I am in. She has kissed me, when me and my other friend were dating (open relationship thing) she said that she liked both of us. And now she is straight. It just hurts because I will never be good enough for her, I’m barely a good enough friend for her. It is painful to see her. I really, really like her.
“Like an American dream, you’re only in my head, and totally out of each, but I can still pretend that one day it’ll be me to get you in the end.”
“I’d like to get to know you, I’d like to take you out, we’d go to the Hail Mary and afterwards make out, instead I’m typing you a message that I know I’ll never send, rewriting old excuses, delete the kisses at the end, when I see you the whole world reduces to just that room, and then I remember that I’m shy that gossip’s eye will look to soon, and I’m trapped, over thinking, and yeah, probably self doubt, you’d tell me to get over it and to take you out, but I can’t, I’m too scared, and here’s the night bus, I’ve got to go, and the doors are closing, and you are waving, and I like you, but I’ll never let it show.”
I long to write about her. About her eyes and her round glasses, her sense of humor and her loud laugh, all the small details and big flaws are stories. I want to put it into words, the good and the bad, the lost signs and the find paths. She's a infinity and I am curiosity, we're a pair of hands fitting together, and we deserve the poetry running through our fingers. I long for her, so I write it down. May she read my trembling heart and find herself in every word.
— I could've just said I love her, part five.
my mother raised me in gardens, in the tangles of ravines and the hollows of oak trees. i learned to cast a circle before i memorized the times tables. she taught me to worship women with eyes darker than the sea; with shoulders like altar tables and spines of anathame.
so it’s no surprise i fell for a girl with a mind burning brighter than any flame i’ve held between two hands — a girl with a mouth like god. she speaks, and the air turns to religion.
Lesbian Book Review: If Not, Winter | Fragments of Sappho by Anne Carson
this is a poem from my upcoming collection, unfold, releasing through Central Avenue Publishing on Feb. 7, 2023.
i have more to give you. i know i do. i know i can love you more than this. i want you to feel it when you touch my back tonight. i want you to feel the secrets im keeping under my skin. i want you to find my poetry and read about yourself and fall in love with yourself like i did. and i want you to know that i am so much more than silence in your passenger seat and i can love you so much more im sorry im just scared.
I turn into a different person when I miss her
And I normally warn people
“Don’t love someone as dangerous as me”
“Don’t love someone who has embraced the chaos around them”
She is the embodiment of danger
She is the raging inferno destroying forest
She is the swirling hurricane flooding towns
She is the ground shaking earthquake tearing apart the land
She is the sliding avalanche burying everything
And despite my own warnings
She is the thing I am forever stuck loving
t’s been two years today
did you know that?
i doubt it.
i buried myself deep in your chest
and felt safe, embraced by your ribcage
with every beat of your heart i would inhale
but somehow love stagnated into rage
all lives have mile markers
you are one of mine
all the fire and glee you caused me
knowing we were running out of time
some days i thought i hated you
some nights i wanted to try
now i’m over it, i promise
(don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry)
it’s been two years today
did you know that?
i hope so.
please know that.
CW: None / By: me
I characterize seasons by foods.
Spring is strawberry pound cake.
Summer is sticky watermelon kisses.
Fall is freshly baked bread.
Winter is simmering potato soup.
I characterize seasons by actions.
Spring is sprinkler dances.
Summer is a trip to the snow cone stand.
Fall is toothy smiles while spinning in leaves.
Winter is snowflake falls.
I characterize seasons by love.
Spring is writing love poems.
Summer is sharing popsicles.
Fall is gentle embraces.
Winter is fireplace caresses.
You hold my hand as we walk
A couple of strangers stare
Let them babe, we never did care
You hold your head up with pride and smile the way you smile
That beautiful smile
You make me brave
We talk and laugh
You hold my hand as we walk
sometimes i worry that i’ll never get over you / that i’ll wake up one day and find i’ve aged thirty years / with your heart still lodged in my throat / even with age kissing my temples silver, i’ll still be scraping the taste of your name from under my tongue / i’m terrified that i’m going to roll over and find someone else keeping your side of the bed warm / that a lover who is not you and never will be / is going to reach for my hand and i’ll think of nothing but the birthmark on your palm / i’m afraid that i’ll be sitting at dinner / and i’ll open the confession box gore of my mouth / and decades of aching and half-realized grief will tumble out onto my plate / i’m afraid i’ll feel the ghosting of your breath on my skin / and be rendered electric with desire i can never set down.