my eyes are shut in the shower

and in their place, take my hands
rounding all the corners, edges, curves

measuring the size
of my thighs

hoping to find bone sticking out
only to find fat hanging out

while i lather on soap.
-too much skin-

my eyes are shut in the shower

to avoid seeing
for seeing leads to feeling
under the mountain of doom

finds me covering
in despair, desperation, self loathing and hate

hence it finds me
covering my eyes.

my eyes are shut in the shower
yet to no avail
for my hands are there to take over
and scale every inch of the place.
-too much skin-

perception.

because when i see my flesh and bones under the skin that covers
i see deformed figures that are monsters that call me out in front of the mirror
and i carry these tirade of thoughts on my sleeve
but i always made sure my tee shirts have full sleeves

when you said i compared us
i felt conflicted
because i wasn’t thinking about us i was thinking about me
darling please believe me
because i’m caged.

i’m caged in these walls that are my brain
and when i see i see with my eyes
and my ribs crush and squeeze my organs out
into a stream of disgust that stains my sight

and i’m sick.
i’m sick and i wish myself away
but two fingers down my throat only block my view
till the water splashes my face and i’m left looking at you

so forgive me, for i can’t see what you see
i’m clouded by my cataracts
and it consumes me
but do

oh please, do
tell me what you see
together we can outline your features and fill in them with magic swirls that little girls dream of
and we can line your intestines with bits of brain and squeeze out every trinket of waste
and when we get to your eyes you can add mine
because i’d be better off without them anyway,

because on me they can see only 120
and on you they can see so much more
and together we can take turns and ward off all the intruders
and inside we can create a safe haven
where we measure in smiles and the twinkles in our eyes
and spend nights huddled under blankets and fictional places
and

and maybe
maybe we’ll see more than our eyes can show
maybe we’ll break the wall that cages our brain
maybe we’ll set free the butterflies that our hearts have sealed
and we’ll see
so
much more.

-am terribly sorry about the letters and commas
-i intended for this to be about else but look where it took me
-i don’t know how i feel about it
-especially the end (suggestions?)
–the visual field of the human eye spans approximately 120 degrees of arc

my stars.

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my stars
are
my pieces
scattered
across my universe
and yet

my stars
are there
to remind
me
that there’s more
to the universe
than
my stars.

–from of my favorite parts from One by Sarah Crossan sort of relayed this.
Here’s to star tattoos in the future!

a book.

i’d like to run
far away
from the trouble things
so
i sit
and read a book.

–books are my ultimate escape
–book blog of mine at http://www.ravenandbeez.wordpress.com and the old one on http://www.ravenandbeez.blogspot.com

 

hands.

Holding hands
we are there
for each other
to
pick up the pace
when one falls back.

Holding hands
we are there
for each other
as
a source of warmth
when the cold wind blows.

Holding hands
we are there
for each other
to
match our strides
even at the turns.

–i conjured this up when i was taking a walk with my dad in the night (we go almost everyday)

blast.

i’m having
a blast;
hence i
exhibit it,
respond,
for it’s a battle;
who’s brave enough
to go solo?

–we’re afraid
–day 3 from threewordsaday

we’re afraid

giving up
is sometimes
an
exhibition
of conquering
the thought
of
the blast
that made you flee.

–we’re afraid
–day 3 from threewordsaday
–first time doing it; am i any good?

 

rain.

The rain falls,
We swing;
and the rest of the world
goes by.

–my soulmate (also my mother, mother-of-my-children and bff) and i went for an imprompto walk (v. romantic) in the rain and we sat on the swings for almost an hour and it was the best.

mine.

Jordan Catalano
might lean
and you
smile
like you’ve got everything to give
and
i’d like to find people
i’d like to share you with
but still keep you mine.

–i poetry now
–this one is about fictional characters and the world we create where they exist, essentially fandoms, and the people who share with us the beautiful characters
–you is no other than Levi, whose smiles we all know about