#lizrose

Liz Rose singing "White Horse" (2.26.15)

  May I be chalk

white – colored hands – slightly closed doors

To each their own tragedy

cloaked in clocks whom

wait for Patience

Plagiarism and Unicorns

Drinking with the top on

and the tab running

600 miles

to the point where my credit card gets

declined.

Citibank will never understand what it’s like to be Hispanic,

underprivileged, under-whelmed

  Deadly sins, watch the moon bend down to stroke your goosebumps as I listen intently to your held breath. And how the confessions peak – slowly rising – shedding elephant piggy banks grazing the mountains of our stares. I indulge, allow myself the possibility of insinuations only ever holding back when I’m inches from lung capacity.

count bored tongues

lagging in small print  pools

dabbled wailing mourners

‘there is joy in feeling sad’

cut throat cut rope cut skin

exhaustion

draw the weight of a glass

  I just want to text you. I want to know what you’re thinking when the waves of your brain are breeched by new sand. I want to hear your reaction to all lights that I encounter. And I want to be surprised by the way you sit. Obsessed by you, letting a strip soak in a pool of my drip exposed my heart ache when all thoughts fail me just an expression of you as you dance in me and now I am dizzy. And now I am exhausted and now I just want to text you.

I will cry enough to fill this world on my wrist cutting my life but I won’t remove it. Send you my words in spaces where                      just doesn’t fit in any space. And now there’s more space on this 

line.

 I hate space. So much of it between us even when we try to run it out. How wrong is it to be wrong with you. I’m digging myself a hole. I will tie courage to the bottom of this blue bottle and let it tickle the words forward. Fuck you and your ‘Yw’. This is the part of the story where I hate you. Throw you out the window and wait for a knock on my door.