The Pinup Poet

Cooing the demons wasn't an art I'd mastered. I'd let them run beautifully wicked, ripping out my eyelashes, arms raised and dancing around the fire lapping on my lips- the apologetics, the mercies, the self-nudity. They'd kiss my cheek, giggle, and play croquet with my tears- adorable thin-skinned bodies; their heartbeats translucent and their running feet piercing. Racing with ribbons that ran my nightmares like projector screens, they left injuries in mehndi portraits with the curve of my flesh. I couldn't find way to make them stop; I only hoped to become the art they carved into my cheekbones.

Sometimes the running was to the backyard- I'd dig my fingernails into the wet earth where I had buried your heart and in bringing it to my face, nuzzle cheek and nose into it's old bloody rhythm. Warm, oh, hell oh. I just needed to hear you- Your melancholy dark horse whinnying. Please just please let me lick the sweat off your back after the hard ride to the black corner pocket of my wounds.

Babe for real. #ladybird

The Ladybirds had a great night performing with the gentleman of Falty & the Defects!

Just one more kick to the stomach and I'll be done, because daddy, I'm afraid. One more smack across the head I'll earn, and then I'll dissolve because daddy, I'm tired. I love the callouses on a mans hands; they remind me of you and I know you're always right. I write all of my feelings because when you read my 3rd grade poems at Thanksgiving dinner, I knew that's how I could be heard- that would be my scream when just one more shove against the wall and I'll be done sharing my holier-than-thou opinions, because daddy, I know nobody is right. One more round of spit, teeth to my cheek kissing and hissing and I'll silence my passions because daddy, you don't see me anymore. So I'll go, but I love the stars because of how you look at them. And the road through the mountains- how it takes me away, and closer still to where your rage has no hold and your spirit is free in me. #pinuppoet #poetry #writing #writersofinstagram #mountain

He held the child's puffy fingers, dipped the tips in coffee, licked them and made little curls giggle. Gold fire, contagious and wrecking, the tiny spitfire was held tight by swollen eyes, unshaven, deep-set pores, pouring grace over her head. Her laughter echoed in the cave of my coffee cup. I felt his squeezes press my flesh into the marrow and when he picked her up, there were sparks shooting to the place on the ground from where her tiny heels were lifted to the moon. ✨#nashville (at Downtown Nashville)

There was a bridge in my bones when I thought of you. My heels ran up and over the curve, slowing at each edge, and neither side was where you met me; nightmare neurons were your only home- Preferring to shoot instead of stabilize. I was told sometimes dreams are what a man is made of, but you were cables and pressure bolts only there to keep me pacing. (at Nashville, Tennessee)

I never longed for you to go. The way a hard night rumbles along the phosphorescent skies, I never longed for you to go. Tidal waves ripped and my heart held tight to the islands of shores you capsized my ambitions, I sank with no provisions, life-less, but still I never longed for you to go. I craved the taste of your salt choking, spit revoking, bare hands, dark eyes folding though I never longed for you to go. . . . #poetry #poem #poetrydaily #poet #pinuppoet

Being a wolf, ever dwelling on the affairs of the moon- how she shines over the forests, how graciously she gives her light, how languidly she bestows smiles. Smiles that paint the edges of the Angels overlooking the chapel; gently kissing their feet. How so she freely offers, as I hungry wait, biding for her affection. 🌔🌓🌒🌑🌘🌗🌖 . . . #poetry #poem #moon #wolf #poetsofinstagram #writing #poet #insatiable #pinuppoet #pinup #vintage

When I have nothing left to offer, when my love just feels like it's run dry with giving...You are a well, You are a refuge. Picking me up as I am and setting my flesh aside, you cradle the heart behind my shaking ribs. You whisper into it sweetly, encouraging each breath, blessing each beat so I can sing again. Greater are you than everything; larger are your arms than the panting of my breath.

This car was going far too fast- Lines slipping in and out of pupils, lights dilating, the iris' steady vibration of sorrowful nods. Head against the glass, I'd been watching you- Keeping gaze, keeping pace, keeping sight, strung out on holding. You were a flickering beacon, I thought was pulling me in, but I found you stoic and standing, without sanctuary. So, thus I found me, forehead praying back against the glass- Cold, cold, cold, all the winds you cut. I let the horizon slide away from you- Calluses too tired to grip, Storms to fast to chase Anymore. . . . #poetry #citylights #poem #writing

Spending a lot of quiet hours lately thinking on how pure my heart would cherish, once it first could. I’ve been greatly saddened by the amount of things in my life that are simply unkind and hyper aware of making sure I find the necessary heart to cherish people for who they are and not what the world can get out of them.

Forever waking, forever waxing, waning, blooming from the bottom of my heels, walking steadfast along the edges of the path, fingers sprawled wide, catching. Queen Ann offered herself pleasantly to my hand, the vase, the kitchen table. She made rainy days seem like days that had paths, and the garden from which I was to pull, easily found beside the spring of my heart.

I was a flower you crushed in your hands just for the scent; my death lingering in the lines of your palms such that, when you put a hand to your face, you remember the feel of mine.