You bleached your tendrils with the dust of crushed marigolds
They themselves whispered, little stuck-to-your-skin shiver ghosts
about the sun we could have,
Floating upon fairytale grass
No bedtime storybooks on the lawn
(neither of us pay mortgages; it's signed under "America")
The senseless story times of teenagehood
You want to believe you're scary
Just another Mike Wasaski, with the cadence of Micheal Cera
I once believed you were scary, because I was still afraid of men.
No.
You're soft. Not in the way men can be.
Your body is a bedframe with the quietest mattress
I thought your sheets would feel like polyester;
It's more velveteen
17 year old teenage dream.
You bleached your tendrils with the dust of crushed marigolds
Before you were born, because you are autonomy
You planted hydrangeas in your yard e where you found perennials so lush in memphis
There's petals where your eyelashes should be
No hair on your face
Tall but prepubescent
I wonder what I could do to your brainstem
But forget the thalamus, let's go back to crime
Bury the past, drag your shovel to the cemetery
Reminisce upon a bonfire, our own incense.
Bellies warm from whiskey, fire, desire.
Academia doesn't exist when we are together
The little voices in my head abandon any mission of failure
Once, I was concrete in your hands
But now i am the putty plumbers put between their pipes.
You call me princess, I can't help by laugh
(this is what kink should be like)
My love will never know what I dream of and
I'll never love you
Only once have I dreamt of my girl
but you intrude my slumber weekly.
YOU ARE READING
An Enigma Is Too Much For A Cat To Eat
Poetrypoetry from the raw heart of a teenage girl. I wrote this poetry collection throughout my junior year of high school, when so much change was underneath the sun's aura. In and out of depression, in and out of the psych ward, I survived the first ha...
