anthemiswrites

[anthemiswrites]

simple song

i miss you

that's all i do

it's not news

the sky is blue

[anthemiswrites]

daytime tv

the sun shifts in between clouds

it ebbs and flows through my window

little bees fly into the glass over and over

and i wish i could fly

[anthemiswrites]

midnight moon

the moon is captured in a soft haze

an aura of serendipitous light

it smiles at me

it smiles like you

i wish we were suspended in air

nestled up in the crooked curve

bound for incandescence

[anthemiswrites]

summer allergies

i'm sneezing out sunshine and floating on air

fat yellow bumblebees and soft violet air

evergreen trees rustle in the far distance

and the lovers match the others' persistence

we have matching sleep tattoos

we sing the cure and talk about control cruise

if this is forever i don't think i mind it

he's my honeybee whose favorite color is violet

[anthemiswrites]

thoughts of

sometimes he looks over while tuning his guitar

and i want to ask if he knows he's gorgeous

if he knows he's my sunrise, my sunset, my sun,

instead i tell him it feels like i'm floating

he has this knowing look and a smirk

a tinge of gold in his green eyes

the question simmers under my skin

until it becomes a secret

i hold him and then dream of him next to me

i wake and it's hot under my tongue

i hold back so much in fear of being misunderstood

in fear that my longing won't translate

but i know he has to feel it too

it's cornered us both in this room

in our words in between "i love you"

in my words meaning "i need you"

in his words that sound like "i miss you"

he's everything, he's golden, he shines,

my bright amber summer sun

sinking into our oblivion

painting the sky with colors i can't fathom

he reaches into me and pulls out poetry

he seeps into my skin and i am covered in light

[anthemiswrites]

do it scared do it stupid do it alone etc etc but don’t do it hungry. eat a snack first

[anthemiswrites]

ladybugs

recently i'm too cold and too hot and crying

all the time about nothing

all the time about you or the lack thereof

i find empty spaces in my neck and arms

i'm forgetting every thought mid-sentence

i'm on autopilot and half-sentient

scaring myself on the drive to work at seven

because i was big-picture focused on concrete

didn't shake it off until two in the afternoon

scaring myself again at eight at night

by holding eye contact with my reflection

seeing the similarities in our eyes

i shiver walking through the doorway

of every room in this goddamn house

i figure i'm either cursed or depressed or dead

that thought puts me at ease

tonight i'll get high then dream of the eighteenth

it's always turquoise and muted

i find it sinking in the swimming pool

when i push my back too hard against the floor

and i recognize it immediately

like it's reaching back in time

in black seaweed floating above my head

in childhood daydreams of a watery death

in the sun through the water

at some point it's more comfort than concern

stone is cold in september

and eventually i do want to feed the bugs

so sometimes when i can't sleep i look up six feet

i play the one solid song morrissey has

and i picture the earth when it's over

the flowers and grass after all time

once we've all become flowers and grass

when we're all friends with speckled orange ladybugs

it's always peach and muted

it's an ever present amber haze at sunrise

and i can't see anything taller than two inches

life is beautiful only when i'm surrounded by it

i sleep like i haven't in years

[anthemiswrites]

immaculate friday morning

as a reformed voluntarily solitary child

being in love feels like holographic stickers

holding a yellow balloon, it's smiling at the sky,

and all around us it's cirrus clouds

pale blue bliss and revelry

holding up my hand to cover my eyes

sunshine settling into our cheeks

new freckles where i kiss your skin

springing up like chamomile

and that means new freckles everywhere

i grew up like lavender

singed in a flower pot after months of heat

a tangled foot of hair and scraped shoulders

staring at the ceiling fan

then falling asleep on blue carpet

june with you feels new

i see it in the afternoon now

clear white water rippling through my hands

spinning underwater in between limbs

my eyes focus and i see it clearly

later im coughing any evil out of my body

clear slime from last weeks' cold

i know that's gross but it made me feel clean

i believe i am aligned or equally i am delusional

naturally you kiss me anyway

naturally as i love you

then i'm levitating off your mattress

the sweetest kiss of your hips

i feed you a bite of my ice cream and you yours

starting a new, good television program

the taste of cherries and chocolate and caramel

washing the chlorine out of my hair

you're half asleep by the time i brush my teeth

i add baby names to my list

i write a line about the tv light on your face

i fall asleep in your clothes

[anthemiswrites]

it hurts that i have to heal from things that are not my fault.

[anthemiswrites]

sea glass girl

i forget this town doesn't have streetlights

i forget to wash off the sunscreen sweat

i'm in bed before i brush the sugar off my teeth

i see a video online and think

"the view underneath the pier is universal,

but that one is concrete."

the sidewalk brings me back

the sand hills in the cracks

purple bandaids and guitar hero

it's a place you know you'll miss

when we left conway highway midnight drives

and chlorine saturated, blue pool eyes

when we left that box of ribbon behind

i said goodbye to the sharks from the car

i held Lola tight to my chest

my favorite color the next six years was blue

i wish i could tell her it never truly leaves you

when i get comfortable i wake up at the beach

it's 2008 and the box fan is on

it's july

like an epiphany

late july

[anthemiswrites]

I. You were cigarette smoke in a dusky blue Oldsmobile in a ghost town of a high school parking lot. We were by the gym and I could almost smell the sweat on their brows. Crunchy McDonald’s wrappers on the passenger floor. It comes flooding back to me when I’m away from the noise:

Our legs on the back of velvet theater seats. Our faces behind music notes. Both of your houses, but always your mom’s first. Your unfinished math homework. The colorless days of February. Shitty gas station beer. Lime green dress. St. Louis in September. Our Girlhood.

I wanted to be you. I wanted to know I could always know you. I wanted to walk this earth knowing that on my way to the equator I could always call you.

You dared me, mocked me, taught me, used me; come back - I have too much I need to tell you

[anthemiswrites]

days inbetween sunshine

i saw him yesterday

i'll see him tomorrow

and i miss him today on the drive home

when i know i can't stay in our bed

in the driveway refusing to break

between get home safe and goodbye

between text me you made it and i love you

i stayed in the passenger and kissed his face

fell asleep without him so i imagined him after

soft touch of his fingertips against my temple

running through my hair in a way that changed me

maybe this is heaven

i'm levitating off the sheets, breathing slow,

and he's holding me like a flower

our eyes meet every time i look up from his chest

it's times like these i know that's my baby

all tired eyes and sleepy smiles and rose tint

six new freckles on his arm

suddenly i'm jealous of the sun

it gets to kiss him whenever it wants

we don't say it, stealing glances in rearview mirrors,

he watches the road and i take pictures of the sky

maybe this is heaven

i can't read the subtitles

[anthemiswrites]

glowing tangerine

you turn 24 and the sun shines brighter

now the stars have more meaning

you're loved beyond words or comprehension

more than you've ever known

the price of your camera film drops

you're no longer anxious in the grocery store

and your tortoiseshell cat purrs like a motor

it gets easier

the weight dissipates

becomes light as air on your shoulders

you're happy and glowing tangerine

the war on yourself is over

the ICU forgot your name

it's a beautiful sunday morning in our heaven

and you're right at home

among sunshine and stars

[anthemiswrites]

he mentions heaven on earth

let's pick dandelions

and make a million wishes

sew our souls together

live in dreams and superstitions

waking up in love

through daylight soaked curtains

where the texture of the pillow

won't make us short circuit

pinky swear that we'll make it

where we leave the candle on

and we know it was worth it

forever waking up

to broad daylight soaked curtains

[anthemiswrites]

embracing cottonmouth

he's seeing tornados

says they're sky to pavement off the highway

he was coming home from work

grey in his eyes

he's talking about going corporate

and i remember sitting too close to the tv

he's telling me i need to make more money

that's basically "i love you" in capricorn

he calls her codependent

i say i'm glad it's not on us anymore

i remember swimming in Spyro

he'd tell me to just beat the game

some things never change

i hope we're buried in the same graveyard

in the same found hometown

i hope we stay the same distance away

just in case the funnels start to touch down

i hope he mentions them in passing

to me in the passenger for as long as i live

i hope he keeps growing up

like our father never did

i hope he never stops seeing tornados

never stops having these highway revelations

and when we're dead and buried

i hope we still have these conversations

[anthemiswrites]

astigmatism

i wish we both grew up in blue shutters

when i smelled like cotton candy

and discovered my own fingerprints

i wanted a spiral

i wish you met the ceramic doll in our closet

knew how the illusion broke with her

so i could tell you not to step there

holding plenty of gauze and halloween candy

i wish we were in the same circles

when i was working on my sun allegories

i would've told you i think streetlights are angels

because if they are i see them all the time

you'd understand the way i speak

and you'd be sick of me

now i'm different

you know i love coming down from a high

and i get nervous in the car

i look out the window and you squeeze my palm

so i look at you instead

you're brighter than the sun reflecting

off the shattered windshield in the floorboard

i forget we're going 80

you're an angel

you're my streetlight

[anthemiswrites]

zaida

so i was never in love with you

but i was in love with the sun across your iris

and the way your dark eyes focused on me

and you'd tilt your head to hear

all smiles and see you laters

how quickly hours become months

how the years have passed and we've stayed

you're still sunflower golden

i still can't hear your accent for the words

and i miss feeling nauseous in your t-shirt

on the track while our brothers got sunburnt

behind the bleachers

at the drive through

under your Cobain poster

you're still cool as the ocean

and i'm still riding the waves

i wish we'd had more time

or that we knew it was finite then

i would've held you longer